Sad But True

This week I attended a “roundtable” discussion of ministry leaders in the Chicagoland area. We had been invited to talk together about how we thought we could make a difference in the Chicago metro area for Christ.

         

One of the things we were asked to do was to identify challenges or barriers to making progress in influencing people for Jesus. What are the things that prevent us from collaborating with others to make a difference? There were many things listed but two things stuck me as sad and true.

         

One of the items identified was self-interest and self-preservation. We are so easily turned inward. Congregations are created as communities of people. We talk about our “church family”. Communities and families are about relationships with one another. We help one another. We take care of one another. We enjoy one another. But rarely do we turn outward. Rarely do we think about how we can help other people, or serve the community, or give things away. When congregational leaders begin to focus on serving the community, inevitably there will be protests from within. “They care a lot more about the community than they do us.”

         

Congregations and ministries are only a product of what happens to us individually. The original sin is self-interest. The story of Adam and Eve tells us that they lived in the perfect situation, but were unsatisfied and wanted more for themselves. We are in an election year and one of the major concerns voiced over and again has to do with the economy. Who can make sure there is more money in my pocket? Few of us wonder which leader will help us serve others better.

         

It is sad that one of the challenges of changing communities is self-interest in that our founder, Jesus, came to give Himself away. He loved us so much he died for us! That is serving.

         

Too often we want our church, or ministry, or ourselves to get credit for what takes place. I cringe when I hear ministry leaders use the personal pronoun too often and talk about “my staff”, “my congregation” and “my ministry”. I try to avoid that language, but no doubt fall prey to my own self-interest on occasion.

         

The other barrier that stuck with me was lack of trust. Christian institutions, organizations, ministries and individuals don’t trust one another. We have partnered with others before and we have been burned. Promises have been made and unkept. Decisions have been arrived at and altered. Energy has been invested without reciprocity.

         

In every church I have served, there have been groups, and individuals, who don’t trust leaders. Whether it was Elders, Deacons, Administrative Boards or staff members, there has always seemed to be suspicion, a belief that people weren’t being honest, or a belief that the leaders were trying to “pull a fast one.”

         

I have never found that to be the case. Sometimes communication is the problem. Sometimes people make mistakes and things don’t turn out as planned. More often than not, it is an attitude of mistrust that has developed and that attitude colors everything.

         

Self-interest and mistrust. I am prone to both myself and I need to constantly examine my heart and mind to avoid both of these natural land mines.

         

We could make more progress in influencing people to be more like Jesus if we could get out of our own way.

         

Sad, but true.

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Ask Kate

Last Sunday in worship I included the story of Katie Heintz, a 16 year old who fought a valiant battle against leukemia and taught many lessons of faith along the way. This reflection will be about another Kate.

This Kate was “dragged” to church by her parents when she was 14 or 15 years old. The word “dragged” is almost literal. I remember the first time I met her. It was clear that she didn’t want to be there, or to have any part of this whole “Christianity” thing. Kate was feisty and was clear about her feelings. She would be as disinterested as possible when she arrived. She didn’t participate in worship. She slumped in her seat when I preached and as soon as the service was over, she nearly sprinted out the door.

Every Sunday I greeted Kate as if she was my long lost friend. Our Youth Pastor did the same and engaged her in conversation. Her parents were embarrassed by her responses and her seeming disdain for the whole thing. But every time Katie showed up we “loved on her.”

Over the course of time the Holy Spirit broke through Kate’s external armor. She let down her guard. She began to tease with me some, and later actually began to greet me like she was happy to see me. She hung around after church and talked with people. She slowly began to listen and participate. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t do it enthusiastically, just with less anger!

Eventually, Kate fell in love with Jesus and came to worship with a zest and enthusiasm that far exceeded the negativity she had previously displayed. Kate has graduated from college and is embracing a career in the Chicago area. She lives in the city, but periodically she and her boyfriend make the trek to the suburbs for worship at ECRC. A young woman who had to be “dragged” to worship, now goes through the hassle of driving to the “burbs” to attend!

This is a tribute to the transformative power of God’s love. When God’s people “…love others as they love themselves,” lives are transformed. It wasn’t one person who helped Kate embrace Jesus. It was the body of Christ, all loving as Christ loved, that made a difference. Kate’s parents loved her enough to make her come to worship and be in the presence of God’s love, and God’s love overwhelmed her.

Recently one of our staff members shared some research that indicates that only 2% of church members have ever invited a person who hasn’t embraced Christ to worship. The same research also indicated that 88% of non-Christians would be open to that kind of invitation.

Really? All we would have to do would be to invite people to worship and that might be life transforming?

Ask Kate.

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Run Over by a Truck

Wednesday morning I was run over by a truck.

         

At least that is the way it felt. I got the call telling me that Sarah, a young woman from our congregation, had died following complications from a routine medical procedure.

         

Sarah was 29 and extremely bright. She worked in the financial world and was in an MBA program at University of Chicago. Her husband, Ben, is in a Ph.D. program at Wheaton College. Young, intelligent, dedicated disciples of Jesus Christ with a bright future before them. Suddenly, unexpectedly, tragically, one of them is gone.

         

I felt like I had been run over by a truck.

         

No matter how many times over the years I have received this kind of tragic news about a congregant or an acquaintance, it still wipes me out. I get a feeling in my stomach that is like the aftermath of having the wind knocked out of me, but it never goes away.

         

How do you respond?

         

I am a person whose life-work centers around oral communication and who has embraced the task of communicating God’s word to people. On these occasions I feel stymied. Over time I have learned that there is nothing I can say that will change anything, or make the situation less tragic or devastating. I have changed my prayers in these situations from asking God to give me the right words, to asking God to help me to listen well and to be appropriate; to be fully present with others emotionally. One thing I don’t do is to try and spiritualize things, which often makes it feel like you are dismissing the heaviness of the loss.

         

When I received the news I wanted to go home and hug my wife and call my kids. It was the same reaction I had on 9/11/2001. My immediate response to the collapsing of the twin towers was to find my family and hug them. When I am overwhelmed by loss my reaction is to want to make sure those I love know I love them.

           

I find comfort in knowing that Sarah has inherited eternal life. But that comfort is weighed down by sorrow. I carry a heavy heart for Ben and the rest of their family and friends who have a gaping hole in their lives.

         

God and I are having some serious discussions.

         

Today the opening words of Psalm 4 echo in my mind:

          “Answer us when we call to you,

          O righteous God.

          Give us relief from our distress;

          be merciful to us and hear our prayer.” (Psalm 4:1)

         

(I have substituted plural pronouns for the singular because I believe this is the prayer of many today.)

         

Please join me in praying for Ben and for his and Sarah’s family and friends, during this very difficult time. And go hug the people you love!

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What’s God Been Doing?

One of my favorite authors is Frederick Buechner. He is an ordained Presbyterian pastor who has spent most of his ministry as a writer, rather than in more traditional pastoral settings. If Christians have to put Buechner in a category (which is one of our favorite pastimes) we would say he is a “liberal.” It is an interesting label to give to someone whose archived writings are housed at Wheaton College along with those of C.S. Lewis. Wheaton is also the home of the Billy Graham Center. Wheaton would hardly be described as “liberal.”

         

One of Buechner’s more meaningful experiences was the time he spent as a visiting professor at Wheaton College in 1985. Buechner had just completed a stint as a visiting Professor of Preaching at Harvard Divinity School, where he became the talk of campus by beginning his first class with prayer! He describes his experience at Wheaton this way:

         

“I’d been sort of a closet religious person for years and years, moving among people to whom faith was either a dead letter or something not to be talked about. All of a sudden I was surrounded by people who found it very easy and natural to talk about faith. It was wonderful.”

         

One day he was having lunch with two students, and the conversation suddenly shifted from small talk about weather, the movies and other mundane subjects, when one of them asked the other what God was doing in his life, as naturally as he would have asked the time of day. Buechner writes, “I thought if anybody said anything like that in my part of the world, the ceiling would fall in, the house would catch fire, and peoples’s eyes would roll up in their heads.”

         

“What has God been doing in your life?” 

         

It might not elicit the same response in our circles as it does in Buchner’s, but at the same time, it is often a stumper. People have a hard time answering the question. It can’t be because God isn’t doing anything...God is always up to something! It may be a stumper because too often we aren’t paying attention. We don’t take the time to even reflect on the question for ourselves.

         

Or, more condemning, we don’t leave room in our lives for God to do much. We fill our schedules with events, tasks, meetings and responsibilities and there isn’t any margin for God to wiggle into. Even if we spend devotional time each day, too often it is a quick read, some helpful tip, and then we move on. We don’t spend much time in reflection of what God might be trying to say to us, much less what He is doing in our life.

         

If you were to ask me, my answer would be, that recently God is calling me to wrestle with the transformational power of His love. God’s love changes people. Do I trust that His love has transformational power, or do I need to put parameters, boundaries and limits on His love?

         

So, let me ask you:

         

What has God been doing in your life?

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Place, Pace, Perspective

New place, new pace, new perspective.

         

It is an axiom I find helpful. Sometimes when I am writing, or working on a project, I find it helpful to find a new place, somewhere other than my office or our home. The new place literally and figuratively provides a new perspective. The different surroundings awaken me to new insights. New people remind me of the vast array of human beings, each with their own perspective on life, which certainly is not the same as mine. It reminds me that my way of thinking is just that, my way of thinking. It is not necessarily “right”, nor should I assume others will embrace it.

         

A new place also provides a new pace. Leaving the office, or even our home, seems to slow me down. Perhaps it is because things are unfamiliar and I have to be more conscious of my surroundings. Whatever it takes, slowing my mind down is a good thing.

         

For some people I am speaking a foreign language. For them familiarity is the key to perspective and insight. The same place, at the same time, and the comfort and security that comes with knowing where everything is inspires some people. It is a personality thing.

         

This year we live in a new place. Memorial Day weekend will be different here.

         

On Memorial Day weekend in Traverse City our church attendance grew with visitors who had second homes in the area or who had chosen Traverse City as a weekend vacation destination. Our own members didn’t leave, where else would you want to be on an early summer holiday weekend? In Chicago we are having only one service due to the great exodus.

         

It is supposed to be in the 90’s this weekend in Chicago. Where can we go to beat the heat? How much of a hassle will it be to get to a beach?

         

In Traverse City we were perplexed by which beach, lake, or beautiful spot to choose.

         

In Traverse City we could work around the house in the morning and still get to the beach in five minutes for the rest of the day. In Chicago it will be a little more challenging.

         

One place is not better than the other (although some would no doubt disagree), they are just different.

         

God calls us to a place; a city, a country, a job, a school, a ministry, a church, a team, a....(put your own words here).

         

When God plants us somewhere we will flourish there. Every experience may not be great. We may miss people, or places. In every new place there will be a new pace and a new perspective, which is God’s way of helping us to grow. When God plants us somewhere we will flourish, even if it means flourishing in difficulty, pain or trials.

         

Place, pace and perspective are God’s unique gifts to us.

         

No matter what place you find yourself in this weekend, I pray that you will slow your pace and open yourself to God’s perspective. And remember the purpose of the weekend...giving thanks for the many who have offered their lives so that we can enjoy the freedom to have a long weekend!

What We Need, When We Need It

They had moved to the Mid-West from Texas because of his job. They knew no one here, but because they were young and it was a great business opportunity, they embraced the adventure. Both of them had grown up in homes deeply rooted in Christianity. The church was an important place for them. This was particularly true as they settled in a new town. The church was a natural place to meet people who would become friends.

They dove into our young couples group headlong. They weren’t shy about volunteering to help with anything. The only thing that stood out more than their enthusiasm was their delightful Southern accent. Our young couples group became their family.

After they settled for a while, they decided to start a family and were soon not only pregnant, but pregnant with twins! He traveled a lot, so she was frequently home alone.  She found being home alone difficult, particularly as the pregnancy progressed and she was near her due date. She dreaded the thought of him being out of town when the time came for her babies to be born. He assured her that he was never that far away. Most of his customers were reachable by car. He was never gone over night.

She kissed him goodbye one morning as he left for a day of sales calls in Milwaukee. He assured her that Milwaukee wasn’t that far from Chicago. It was like every other morning, until about noon when the babies decided to make their debut. She went to the hospital by herself and put a call into her husband which went to voice mail.

She arrived at the hospital and was sent to the delivery area, but after some testing the doctor came back with bad news. Her babies were in distress and would be stillborn. It was as if a bomb had gone off in the room. She was shocked and not sure what to do. She couldn’t reach her husband. She had the hospital call me, and I rushed there all the time wondering what in the world I would do or say. This was a first for me.

When I arrived at the hospital I was directed to the special area for problem deliveries. Her husband couldn’t be reached, I was to scrub in and be with her until her babies were born. I felt completely overwhelmed. They had skipped this training in seminary. I found myself in constant prayer. What else do you do when you are desperate?

The nurses were unbelievable. Obviously trained for this kind of situation, but more importantly experienced and gifted. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and hearing. It was as if God had dropped several of His minions into the room. I felt horribly inadequate. They assured me that my role was to simply be present, a poor substitute for her husband.

He called the hospital and they told him the babies were being born, but they did not tell them they were in distress. They didn’t think it was appropriate news to deliver over the phone, especially when he had to drive from Milwaukee.

The babies were stillborn. The nurses brought them to the mom and I stood by her bed and held her hand as she wept uncontrollably. I joined in her waterfall of tears and found myself with nothing to say that wouldn’t seem trite and unhelpful.

Her husband called again. He was stuck in traffic. It was going to take him an extra hour to get to Chicago. I waited with his wife for him. This was going to be horrible. We would have to break the news to him and revisit the gut-wrenching trauma all over again.

I sat on the sidelines in complete awe as the nurses tended to her. My stomach felt empty and my soul had a hole in it. Watching these amazing women go about their work with sensitivity, gentleness and expertise brought me comfort. They were doing a ministry of mercy, caring and love. God was at work through them.

The husband arrived. The nurses called me out to meet with them as they told him what had taken place. He scrubbed quickly and rushed to his wife’s side. I felt like I was somewhere I didn’t belong, uncomfortable as they shared their grief.

A half hour later I joined them again. We hugged, cried and prayed. We listened carefully as the hospital staff talked us through the next steps.

Some would ask, “How could a God of love allow something like this to happen?”

I have no satisfying answer except that we live in a world full of pain, difficulty and sorrow. Horrible things happen that we cannot explain. God watched His own Son suffer at the hands of people, and I believe God has unique empathy for parents who live in pain and particularly the pain of losing children.

I do know that this young couple, hundreds of miles away from family when tragedy struck, felt the unique presence of God in the midst of their tragedy. God placed them in the midst of a hospital staff that were God-like in their caring and compassion.

I do know that God gave me what I needed when I felt completely inadequate.

God gives us what we need, when we need it, and we often don’t know it until it’s over!

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Scenes from the Parking Lot

I was sipping my coffee and reading the paper in my favorite coffee shop not long ago. It was a Chicago style spring day...gray, ominous skies, and windy, really, really windy.

Looking out the window can be somewhat entertaining, even if it is at someone else’s expense. Watching the effort people were putting into opening their car doors against the wind. Watching them grab in a panic as their door blew open violently with the wind. Hat grabbing, dress flattening, coat buttoning, and body leaning all were strategies employed to fight against mother nature.

I spotted a young mom maneuvering carefully across the lot pushing a two-child stroller. She approached her car and you could sense her strategizing in her mind how she was going to execute her next move. She had to get one child out of the stroller and place them in the car seat, leaving the other in the stroller besieged by the wind. She finished that task and then took her second child out of the stroller and that’s when the challenge set in. Her stroller went blowing across the parking lot like a rocket blasting off. She gave it a curious and somewhat panicked look. Now she was in a real dilemma. Would she dare leave her two kids in the car alone while she chased after her stroller? The stroller was already a good distance from her car. How far would it continue to blow?

My instinct was to get up and help, but my mind was playing some tapes from the past which made me hesitate. Within the last couple of years I had tried to help people in distress and it had backfired on me. There was a young boy in a Walmart rest room who seemed disoriented and somewhat frightened because he couldn’t figure out how to get out the exit door. I showed him the way and opened the door for him. His mother was waiting outside and noticed the bewildered look on his face. Her automatic conclusion was that I had done something untoward to her son. She began to pepper him with questions about whether I had touched him or done something to him. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I told her what had happened, but she encouraged me to leave, and she wasn’t polite about it.

I had stopped to help a young girl whose car had stalled alongside the road. When I approached she jumped in her car and locked the door. She yelled through the window that her dad was coming.

Our society has evolved into a place where it is difficult to help anyone anymore. “Stranger Danger” has instilled fear in all of us to the point where everyone is viewed as a threat regardless of how well intentioned they might be.

So, do I run out to the parking lot and offer to help, or don’t I? It seems odd that I would even have to think about it, but given my past experiences, I actually hesitate. I decide to run out of the coffee shop and go directly to the stroller. The young mom looks on still not knowing what to do. She sees me headed to her stroller and remains by her car. As I push the stroller toward her car, fighting against the wind, I can see a sense of relief on her face. When I arrive at the car, she gushes with appreciation, so much so I find it embarrassing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. This is what we are supposed to be about as people, “doing unto others as we would have them do unto us”, loving our neighbors with random acts of kindness. Corralling a runaway stroller is not quite the magnitude of intervening when someone is being physically assaulted.

         

I did not walk away basking in my chivalry. I was wondering how it has come to this, where we are afraid to approach strangers, help children, offer assistance, or even be friendly, without wondering whether or not they have evil intentions.

         

Today it is becoming more difficult to love others as we love ourselves.


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