From Armageddon to WW Z

Welcome to the summer of our virtual annihilation. The movies have become even more apocalyptic than the Book of Revelation. This spring and summer alone, we have been asked to contemplate in fiction or hyped-up newscasts the terroristic take-over of the White House, the "oblivion" of earth, the bloody onslaughts of various aliens, planet-crushing asteroids, natural disasters, zombies and miscellaneous other evils. From Armageddon to World War Z, to comedic treatments of the end, we are all gazing upon annihilation, and calling it entertainment.

It all reminds me how deeply fear runs in our lives and hearts, as natural human beings.

Years ago, John Buchanan, a Presbyterian pastor and editor of the Christian Century, wrapped one of his columns with this remark, "It has been said that the most common command in the Bible is 'Fear not.'" There is a reason for this, of course. The Hebrew and Greek Testaments are shot through with many, many frightened and fearful people, people who clamber out of Egypt afraid, wander the wilderness afraid, cross into the promised land afraid, elect kings afraid, and silence prophets out of fear. The are even disciples who must be reassured in every moment, so that one of the most frequent commands from Jesus is also, "Be not afraid."

We are the inheritors, not only of the endless DNA of fight-or-flight creaturliness, but also of the nearly four millenia of frightened God-seekers.

And the only resolution that brings this to an end is a God-given word: "Fear not."

Whatever worries you, or causes anxieties even during these pleasant summer days, deserves to be set in the perspective of this graced and powerful Gospel imperative. Walter Brueggeman, an Old Testament scholar and theologian, has said, "in the midst of chaos, Christians and Jews should be the least anxious people. When everything was taken away from them, they still had God. And they still have the ability to re-invent themselves because they still have God."

May God alone, not Hollywood's studios or Stephen King's novels, set the foundations and the frame of what we fear and what we hope! "Remember, I am with you always..." (Matthew 28:20).

Commencing Plan B

Several years ago, we attended Commencement exercises at a college, and the speaker of the day was a CNN anchor and reporter, Aaron Brown.  He joyously urged the graduates to “go out and conquer their world” by figuring out what you most want to do, and when you have discovered that, then make that your Plan A. He also cautioned the graduates, and really every one else in the hall, about settling, about getting so anxious, or fearful about Plan A that you develop a Plan B, “just in case things don’t work out with your dream.” Brown emphatically told the students that Plan B is what wrecks Plan A. If you leave yourself an out, you will try to take it.

Like a lot of the graduates and their parents and families there, I could feel the pull of what Brown said, and I walked away that afternoon thinking to myself, “Yes! I’ve got to remember and re-imagine my Plan A! I can still conquer the world. I gotta be me!" This is how it should be when we dream, envision and imagine what we will do.

I wish you all your Plan A. I pray for you that your Plan A is already, or will soon become, vivid and compelling. However, I have something further that I wish and pray for each of you. I wish and pray Plan B for you, as well. A few days went by after I heard Mr. Brown’s remarks, and I realized something: the richest, most challenging, most distressing yet life-illumining-lessons I ever learned have been Plan B lessons.

Plan A is always an idealized plan. Nothing goes wrong. Everyone behaves. We are always energetic and kind. The wind is always blowing at our backs. We never get lost or confused. But as a friend of mine, a Presbyterian pastor, used to say, “Our ideal plans don’t work because no one ever imagines the effects of sin or fatigue." Or random events. Or a change of heart or perspective. Or…Or…Or…

Let me give you an example. At a certain point in my life, I developed an idealized image of myself, a Plan A, that I should earn a Ph.D. and ultimately become a professor and author. This went on for years and years, and I kept mentally scolding God and all my friends and my family for not getting it that I was secretly meant to be a renowned professor.

Then one day a pivotal thing happened, even though it took me years to realize what it meant for my Plan A. A couple came to see me about their marriage. I listened. I asked questions. I prayed with them. I tried to guide them. And it happened that I was there for them at just the right moment. Those two people re-committed to preserving the vibrancy of their marriage, and it dawned on me that during all the time I thought I was just temporarily doing my Plan B as a pastor, what was really going on was just God getting me in the place where, if I never did anything else worthwhile in my life, at least I helped two wonderful people to re-discover their love for each other. I realized I could live and die content with that one little thing, knowing that one good thing happened because of where God put me. You don’t need a Ph.D. for that: “Plan B Works, Too!” God's plan was that I would pastor others, and it was a vast improvement on my own best plans.

Plan B lives are so much better than strict Plan A lives because they are not about the idealized Self who impresses everybody; they are about being real, being vulnerable, being humble, being resilient, being hurt and getting up again; seeing other people hurt and helping them to get up again. They are about following Jesus, who was after all, God’s Plan B (after the Law and Prophets). Even when your own plans to conquer the world are shaken, and you don’t know how you can go on, you can still love the sisters and brothers. “And this is the victory that conquers the world" -- faith, hope and love -- Jesus Christ -- God’s Plan B.

"...And God Is A Methodist!"

Mary Lynn and I recently went to see the film "42". The movie tells the story of Jackie Robinson, the first Black American to break into professional baseball with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. He was an outstanding athlete, but he did not get into pro ball on his own. He was supported by a unique club owner, Branch Rickey. In the aftermath of World War II, Rickey was visionary enough to see all of professional sports opening up to ethnic minorities. He cultivated Jackie Robinson, and intentionally committed himself to the social cost of a decision to bring Robinson in at that time in history.

Whether it's apocryphal or not, I don't know, but there is a decisive moment in the film when Rickey resolves to move inexorably ahead with his hire of Robinson, no matter the consequences, saying, "I am a Methodist. He is a Methodist. And God is a Methodist!" 

God may be a Methodist. I don't know about that, one way or another (though I have often suspected it), but what is inspiring in Branch Rickey's statement is the conviction he has that with God--and a united church--"nothing is impossible," not even the integration of American professional baseball.

If this is so, then what if we imagined for a moment that God is capable of far more than we ask or imagine? Where would the church be digging in? Offering Christ to every human being in generous and kind ways? Solutions to malaria? Relief from poverty? Solving global warming? Ending the burning issues of brutality and violence in our nation and world? Feeding the hungry? Clothing the naked? Healing the sick and visiting the imprisoned? Sharing comfort and wise counsel? Doing the practical things every community needs--offering rides, preparing meals, raising children and teens in healthy circles of parents and adult friends? Glorifying God with heartfelt songs and prayers?

What could you imagine giving your life's energy to, if you knew that with God's help, you could not fail to be a sign of hope, love and faith? This may well be what it means to be a Christian disciple--and a Methodist! Nothing is impossible, or too daunting, for us. We can be signs of the Spirit's love active in the world, as Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey became signs of an in-breaking new world of racial inclusion.

The Adventure Begins

The Grace Event For Us: Healing, Teaching, Cross, and Empty Tomb
Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday (Easter) bring with them a new sensitivity to God's love, suffering, guidance and power. We hear the story of Jesus Christ as calling, ministry, teaching, example, cost and glory of God's passion for us, all condensed into this particular week spent in Jerusalem.

If ever there was cause given to stir up the flames of the Spirit in the churches, and the fired-up spirits within us, this must be it! "Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Ephesians 5:1, 2).

Our Grateful Reply to Grace
One can always hope that gracious and costly acts of forgiveness and compassion will stir up grateful replies. God knows, it does not always happen that way. But when it does, something magnificent and humbling can begin! Souls are delivered. Disciples are formed. Quarrels are ended. Churches begin again. Nations are reformed. Justice, mercy and peace break out. The adventure of life in God-Christ-Spirit launches.

An Emerging Movement of Gratitude Glorifying God--A Wesleyan Christian's Path
For some useful reference and correlation between our Wesleyan legacy or DNA as a structure for practice and renewal, and the emerging church movement, you might appreciate Hal Knight’s “John Wesley and the Emerging Church”(Google it). My summary is below:

Seven Features of Emerging Churches in Post-Modern Culture v/v Wesleyan DNA

1. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches understand discipleship is “following closely and emulating the person and ministry of Christ," present forgiveness in Christ with evangelical commitment to ministries with the poor.
2. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches are pre-eminently missional, called to reform the nation.
3. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches are radically incarnational, all culture is subject to transformation and renewal by the reign of God
4. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches are alternative communities, mission-created—networked small groups—accountability—distinctive lifestyle and disciplines
5. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches find “truth” through biblical narrative, more than rational/propositional reading of Scriputure.
6. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches  are practitioners of ancient/future worship, drawing from apostolic as well as contemporary sources (e.g. Covenant Services, Love Feasts, etc. were borrowed innovations in Wesley’s day).
7. As in Wesleyan DNA, emerging churches are humble, yet confident, advocates of “generous orthodoxy” (what Wesley called in his day, “catholic spirit”), holding to the few essentials of faith and to a life marked by love of God and neighbor.

As a last note, Knight commends Wesley’s “orthopathy” (or “right heart”) to the emerging churches, not simply that they are orthodox in doctrine (right belief) or orthopraxis (right practice), but that these come as praise and prayer from a right heart, one “formed, governed and motivated by love” from God in Christ for “our God, our neighbor and the creation itself."

Holy God, may our hearts be strangely warmed by the power and suffering of Passion and Resurrection events this week and for our lifetimes and beyond. May our churches be startling enlivened by the One risen from the dead, and may our communities demonstrate kingdom compassion. Amen.

Lent Begins and "Tomorrow" Ends

When a friend of mine was dying of complications from cancer treatments, he was given a new perspective on life which he generously shared with others. He said that our culture tells us, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life, and the best is yet to come." We are instructed that we may always expect a better tomorrow.

My friend's own learning as a devoted Christian during his extended illness was, rather, that one must learn to come to grips with loss day by day, and to detach from things one step at a time. He would say, "Today is the last day of the best of your life." At first blush, it seems dark, but the longer we live with what he had to say, the more we recognize it is simply truth, so far as worldliness and health are concerned. Soon or late, we must lose all and suffer the end of all we attached ourselves to holding.

We must die a little. If we are to die well, we must come entirely to the end of ourselves.

Lent is the season for practicing this loss and for rehearsing this insight so that it gains traction in us. We are not "immortals." We are at this level simply mortal creatures coming to our end, and on another, related level we are sin-injured souls who show the wounds of our own actions and the misdeeds of others.

The Gospel journey toward Jerusalem and the cross, a path we may walk every year with Jesus, is also a journey toward insight, loss, detachment -- and death. We confess this. We confess mortality and sin. We say we are ashes and dust, and in these we mourn and repent.

While it is ultimately true that "the best is yet to come," this has everything to do with God's loving initiative in Jesus Christ toward the suffering, regretting, mourning, dying. It has nothing to do with what future entertainments or fulfillments we may still dream about from our careers, our studies, or as the outcome of our fortunate circumstances. Neither is this best from God limited by the flaws, shortcomings, collapses or destructions of our early misfortunes.

God's best for us exceeds the day we live and ends in final blessing. It may be true for many of us that from this day forward, our "tomorrows" will  get no better, and we will die a little. However, it is also true that nothing which happens for good or for ill can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

At Water's Edge: Human Suffering and the New Year

In a 1937 novel written by Zora Neale Hurston, a hurricane approaches a poor community at the water’s edge in Florida. Big winds vibrate like a giant drum, lightning brightens the sky, and thunder rolls. The main characters, hiding in their home, hear terrible crashings and screamings. They look at the door of their house questioning God. The author wrote, “They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.”

Today, there are other events to occupy us—global warming, worldwide brutalities linked with religious fundamentalism, handgun violence, emotional distress, poverty and underemployment, and financial crises in so many places. How could so many people living and playing at the water’s edge not be hypnotized by the prospect of being swept away by one or another of the possible, long, terrible waves of destruction we face now?

Years ago, one of our church members told me that their son, Erik, who was five years old, came home from church, “Why does God let the bad stuff happen?” So, apart from the human grief and compassion we are all feeling, apart from our urgent desire to contribute and to support our suffering neighbors, here is our intellectual and faith crisis—our questioning, coming from the mouth of a babe. We all stand at the water’s edge, uncertain of what we see, yet fascinated, awe-struck and questioning.

Jesus asks the very same, deeply human questions about unpredictable disasters when in Luke’s gospel, for example, he asked those around him, “Do you think that the 18 killed when the tower at Siloam fell were 'worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?'"  In other words, is there something meaningful in an accident, or a disaster, or not? The question is universal; the answers unbelievably diverse and sometimes contradictory.

In 1755, a major earthquake (close to a 9 on the Richter scale) and an attendant tsunami struck Lisbon, Portugal, even then a prestigious city, on All Saints' Day. Reportedly, 70,000 people were killed there and elsewhere, as the shockwaves and tsunami struck various cities and communities in much of Europe and northern Africa. At the time, the philosopher Voltaire wondered in a letter to a friend, “What will the preachers say…” In that single speculative question, an intellectual gauntlet was laid down before all Christian churches and thinkers of his day and ours. Implicit in Voltaire’s remark was a fundamental challenge to classical Christian logic on the problem of suffering.

Theologians and preachers of the 18^th century certainly saw basically three main reasons to argue in favor of divine purpose at work even in human disaster. First, as many Christians do today, they saw God as sovereignly and mysteriously in control of all events, making them serve redemptive purposes; therefore, even disasters must lie within God’s will. Second, some saw the End-time or Apocalypse at hand, as an expression of God’s sovereignty and reaction to human sin. Today, we hear the same thing from Christian pastors and thinkers, as well as from other faiths. The trouble with this argument is that it has been applied to virtually every major earthquake, famine and natural disaster in history—with no decisive result, to date. In any case, I agree with Martin Luther, who told his friends, “Death is death.” It doesn't matter if one dies or 100,000.

Other 18^th century Christian leaders argued, and they still have their counterparts today, that there could be morally sufficient reasons for God to permit suffering. John Wesley saw the harm done to Lisbon as a call to repentance for all equally sinful human beings residing elsewhere. He opposed the appeal to scientific reason, saying, “It is not chance that governs the world…. If all these afflictive incidents entirely depend on the fortuitous concourse and agency of blind, material causes; what hope, what help, what resource is left for the poor sufferers...?”

In contrast and opposition, the philosophers of that Enlightenment period in Lisbon and Europe held that the movements of the world machine might have been created by God, but they could not be interrupted by God.

So, why does God let bad stuff happen? Here is my answer to a five-year-old named Erik and to Voltaire. First, I agree with some Christian teachers who say that God’s “power” is often misunderstood. Once God sets a free and material universe into motion, not even God can decide to block out one of the outcomes of that universe—which is suffering. In other words, Erik, you cannot have a real world without seeing it get hurt sometimes.

Second, some Christian teachers say that God’s “goodness” is also often misunderstood. God’s love is not trivial or sentimental; it works into the farthest reaches of the tens of thousands of galaxies. This goodness is so immense and so all-embracing that it can even include all suffering as an unavoidable consequence of real love. In other words, Erik, we cannot care deeply for one another without sometimes needing to be hurt by the things that occur while we are on the way to God’s “good stuff”.

Third, I think some Christian teachers have interesting things to say when they admit that God’s power may not be entirely sovereign, or that it may still be maturing as we journey toward the fulfillment of all existence. In other words, Erik, just as you grow up to be 6 or 20, and gain new abilities, so God may also be growing and changing in certain respects, as God responds to the way the things are in the universe and in our world.

The last thing I want to say is that I think that God suffers the pain of the world, its creatures and people. Christ suffers for the world. This knowledge somehow comforts and inspires me. God knows all that we are experiencing and enduring. We have been baptized into Christ’s death and into his resurrection. Therefore, we also participate in the suffering of Christ and of the world. Therefore, we also always stand at water’s edge, just as Jesus did when he came to be baptized in the Jordan by John.

Therefore, we are not afraid to stand with the suffering at the water’s edge, watching the massive tidal wave sweep in. We are not afraid to drown at the water’s edge, if that is what is required of us by duty to our neighbor or by unavoidable circumstance.

The Christian theologian, Alister McGrath, once wrote, “The sufferings of this earth are for real. They are painful. God is deeply pained by our suffering, just as we are shocked, grieved and mystified by the suffering of our family and friends. But that is only half the story. The other half must be told…. [It is] a glorious vision of a new realm of existence. It is a realm in which suffering has been defeated. It is a realm pervaded by the refreshing presence of God…. It lies ahead, and though we have yet to enter into it, we can catch a hint of its fragrance and hear its music in the distance…. Just as suffering is real, so are the promises of God…”

Because we are Christians, we know that at a place on a Galilean beach, at the water’s edge, when the full and disastrous hurricane and flood of death had overwhelmed the disciples, they suddenly found the one who had suffered and died standing alive on the beach, and they had to say,“It is the [risen] Lord” (John 21:7).

Advent: "Prepare the Way of the Lord..."

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord...'" (Matthew 3:1-3)

When I was about 14 or 15, I remember my father shaking me awake one Saturday morning. He said, "The pastor is coming to talk to you, and he wants to meet with you in your room." Well, my room was a typical teenager's wreck, and so his announcement threw me into a panic. I jumped in the shower, dressed, then scrambled to pick up, put away, sweep, mop, make the bed, and get everything spotlessly ready for the pastor to visit. When I was done (and sweating the arrival that could come at any moment), I went upstairs to my mother and father, and asked breathlessly, "When is the preacher coming?" My dad just grinned, and said, "We were kidding." He was happy. On a Saturday morning, his teen-aged son was up and awake, and the bedroom chores were actually completed. Needless to say, I was not pleased.

Well, Advent is about One who comes in the Incarnation, and this time, no one is kidding. It truly is time to awaken, put on new clothes, and prepare the way of the Lord.

The Advent of the Christ has a peculiar emotional mixture involved. On the one hand, it bears all the comforting and joyous emotions of the infant birth of the Christ, yet on the other hand "the day of the Lord" is described in both the Old and New Testaments as a day to dread. It is associated with earth-shaking events, with storms of wind and water, with anxiety, and with destruction of old structures. Christ's coming is simultaneously a time of confrontation with our slumbering souls or dirty rooms, and of comfort in the mercies shown us and of joy in the new world that awaits us in God's realm.

So when we mature a bit, we recognize that the season of Advent presents us with the challenge of accepting Christ into our world, and even preparing the way for his entry, as an event and relationship which potentially changes everything for us by both opposing, and by healing, our sin. The soul tells its truth, admitting flaws and also confessing to giftedness. God takes such souls by the work of Christ--and transforms them into amazingly beautiful human beings.

As this season progresses, the emphasis of the Sunday and daily readings shifts from warnings and prophecies toward more immediate experiences of grace, delight and hope. May this be true in your life. At first, Advent is a rough wake-up call and a summons to cleanse and prepare the heart. Yet as time goes by, the path becomes more smooth for every trembling heart.

Blessings in Christ in this paradoxical season of intermingling confrontation and hope.

Four Missional Stakes

Bishop Bruce Ough has been sharing a message with us since he came, concerning his four stakes in ministry while serving the Minnesota and Dakotas episcopal area. He wants our shared ministry to be characterized as "missional leaders, missional churches, missional impact and missional connection." It's a sound, Wesleyan and Christian plan. It is solidly Scriptural since it reflects Christ's intention not to entertain, not to just "do religion," and not to appease or please others, but to actually heal God's people in every way possible.

Jesus was teaching in a synagogue on the sabbath. And a woman was there who for eighteen years had been crippled by a spirit; she was bent over, completely incapable of standing erect. When Jesus saw her, he called to her and said, "Woman, you are set free of your infirmity." ... She at once stood up straight and glorified God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant that Jesus had cured on the sabbath, said, "...Come on [the other days] to be cured, not on the sabbath day."  --Luke 18:10ff.

This passage in Luke's Gospel is provocative. A leader in a significant religious system is presented as disinterested in, and even resistant to, the "missional" fulfillment of God's work of healing human life and restoring human dignity. The leader seems to us to be caught up in the comparatively lighter stuff of religious observances, dramatically overlooking the fact of a remedy for human suffering. How sorrowful, and yet how common this is! When the leaders are so trapped, then the faith community is also, and so is the overall impact, and so is the wider connection among such communities!

How many of us have attended worship, hoping not to run into some boor? How many of us sit at a dining table or bus seat, wishing that we would not need to be near a person we find unappealing for whatever reason? How many times have we hoped to be picked for the good team? How often have we preferred the rules and common practices of our institutions and organizations to what our own senses and souls tell us? How often have we denied our own interior pain, rather than admit personal limitations or struggles to anyone?

Why do we do this?

We prefer the comforts of control and the avoidance of inconveniences like poverty, mental or emotional affliction, chronic illness, and suffering of so many kinds. We prefer this to allowing God to do what God does in Jesus Christ--which is to face, confront and address human sorrow and suffering in order to bring abundant life to us and to all.

What if we were to imagine our religious gatherings as places where the key actions taking place were not the fulfillments of ritual expectations, but the grateful glorification of God, and the unflinching ministry of releasing all kinds of people from all kinds of bondage and infirmities?

What if we broke the rules of church in order to heal the people of God? What if we were to become
missional leaders serving missional churches for missional impact in and through our missional connection?

October is Clergy Appreciation Month

Many of us have an abiding affection and respect for pastors and ministry leaders, especially in these challenging and conflicted times. But we may not tell or show them how we feel very often. It could be done at any time in many ways--a simple note, a kind word, a small gift, an unexpected day away from the pulpit, an encouragement to take a full weekend with spouse, children or friends. It could happen often, even be a normal and expected part of the local church's year, month and week.

I am told that Focus on the Family launched Clergy Appreciation Month in 1994, and they chose the month of October, especially the second weekend, as a specially selected time to honor and thank the churches' entire pastoral staffs and their families. The blog, "Thriving Pastor" writes that there is biblical precedent: "We believe that the concept of clergy appreciation started with the Apostle Paul as he was establishing the first Christian churches. In 1 Timothy, he wrote, "The elders who direct the affairs of the church well are worthy of double honor, especially those whose work is preaching and teaching" (1 Tim. 5:17). And, in 1 Thessalonians, he said, "Respect those who work hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work" (1 Thess. 5:12-13).

I don't know about you, but when I look back to many of the key transitional moments or crises of my life, there has almost always been a pastor present to listen, acknowledge, comfort, encourage, counsel, pray and guide. When I was first learning the basics of Christian faith, a pastor taught me. When I went on my first canoe trips and service projects, I was led by pastors like Robert Hunter and Tom Brennan. When my brother was nearly killed in a work-related accident, our pastor, Robert Bailey, came to be with my family. When Mary Lynn and I were trying to figure out if we should be married or not, a pastor counseled with us. When I was in studies at college and seminary, pastors were often the people who noticed my journey and challenges and gave encouragement along the way. When my sons were to be baptized, I asked a friend and pastor, James Dahlgren, to baptize them. When I just needed encouragement, there were pastors like Richard Harper and others, who spoke that word and showed their care. When I was under stress at work, or aching with some concern in life, it was almost always the case that I turned to pastors for a listening ear and effective support through the difficulty or crisis. Even when I noticed the absence of a pastor, that was also an acknowledgement of the role they play in key events of celebration or of loss.

Even though I have been a pastor myself for 30 years, I am not sure I have fully expressed my gratitude, thanks and appreciation to the clergy. How about you, your family, or your church? When the clergy offered God's love, light, healing and hope at times that these were deeply needed, or when they performed their ministries graciously and kindly though under fire, or when there were seasons of conflict in the life of the congregation, were you thanking God for these clergy and their families who bear the costs of Christ's work in many, many ways? Think of all their lost sleep, lost weekends, lost vacation days, unexpected interruptions, headaches and heartaches--on behalf of God's people! Have we thanked them and thanked God for them? Please give it a try. Appreciate those who serve in pastoral and staff ministries.

Instructed by Gates

As many of you know, I am returning from a three-month renewal leave. Thank you for bearing with my absence, and with the necessary time to get on board again with the district ministries. Mary Lynn and I did a lot together this summer, but one key adventure was travelling to Scotland for the first time. We saw Glasgow, Edinburgh, the sacred island of Iona, Ben Nevis, Loch Ness, Saint Andrew's, and the Culloden battlefield, among other beautiful, historic, and mysterious places. We visited with wonderful people, many of whom we could barely understand! Our sons came along, too, so there was time to talk, hike, try haggis together, and go to the tiny villages in Fife County where the Oglesbee family originated, and the area from which Alexander Oglesbee emigrated to the Virginia colonies in America around 1750.

I titled this return post "Instructed by Gates" because we learned a lot from gates while we were in Scotland. One beautiful blue gate in front of a home at the seaside town of Oban said only, "Carpe Diem" ("seize the day"), and I realized I had been instructed by a lovely, small gate about life's callings to us. We really should seize the gate of the day, seeking the grace that awaits when we pass through! "Go through, go through the gates..." (Isaiah 62:10).

We also learned hospitality from gates, which if you think about it, seems contradictory to the purpose of gates. However, the national laws provide for anyone who wishes to do so to walk or hike over private property more or less at will. People may also camp on private property, more or less at will. The restrictions on this, especially out in the countryside, are that one does no damage, avoids stock animals, and stays out of the farms' living and work areas. Otherwise, you are free to wander.

We were deeply touched and affected by this, as we ourselves walked the paths and dirt roads. Property owners not only allow guests on their lands all the time, but they provide gates or stiles for easy passage over fences. Animals stay in, while travelers can conveniently pass through the fields and forests.

We could not help thinking again and again how differently private property is being viewed in Minnesota and in the US. We all know that most gates are intended to signal to others that the owners want no uninvited guests near the things that belong to them. These days, one risks being shot on sight for perceived offense. Yet in Scotland, that was not the case. The gates were signals of hospitality, which did not say, "Go away, suspicious person!", but instead, "Here is the way. Pass through here!"

This experience reminds one of the words spoken in the Gospel of John 10:9: "I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture." It was a very simple thing, but we were moved by it, and we are considering how the open gate signals grace and generosity in God's work through Jesus Christ, and we are wondering how to make the things we own, the property we have, and so on, something to be generously shared, rather than tightly guarded. I am considering getting a gate for my home, one without a fence at all, a gate that only serves to remind us to find the way to God--and to go through. Blessings to each of you!  --Clay

Until Further Notice

For almost eight years now, Bishop Sally Dyck has asked the pastors and leaders of our United Methodist churches in Minnesota to meditate on one text: the full chapter of Romans 12. The idea behind the study of this text is that the people of God can only be transformed by God’s love and grace expressed in Christ Jesus, and therefore, can only become people who actively show their faith if they have learned and imagined what an authentic Christian-life looks like.

The Bishop enjoys Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase from The Message. Who can help being inspired or encouraged by a fresh reading of Paul’s words? "So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your every day, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you."

The Bishop's instructions were that this should be read daily "until further notice." I don't recall that she ever lifted that instruction. The point was that the way of the Christian life requires steady, disciplined, dailiness and practice "until further notice."

Steve Manskar, a discipleship leader in our denomination, has written that practicing our faith is like any other skill or practice; it requires repetition, and going back to basics often. A baseball fan, he noticed that Sports Illustrated recently published a story on the radio communications among players and coaches during baseball games. The magazine discovered that the most frequent communications between coaches and players were not big, strategic plans, but reminders from the coaches to their players to keep doing the basics properly.

For us, this means using the means of grace: regular worship, regular Communion, personal and family devotions, searching the Scriptures, conferring with and supporting other Christians, forgiving and seeking forgiveness, fasting, and serving the poor of the earth, and so on.

The Desert Fathers tell the story of a younger monk who came to an Elder in his community. The young monk had been faltering in his practice of his faith, losing heart and hope to a point where he was no longer keeping any of the promises that he had made about the way he would live. Every time that he tried to pray, or read the Scriptures, or fast, he just lost heart and quit.

The Elder, listening generously to the younger monk, told this man the story of a father who sent his son out to farm a piece of property with the promise that the land and its fruits would be his when he had cleared the land. When the son arrived at the land, it was so full of thickets, brambles and thorns that he just despaired, and, rather than work, he just lay down and wept, and then he slept. When his father came by to see what was happening, the son told him, “Look at this land! I've done nothing here because this ground is impossible. Just look at it!” The father patiently told his son, “You’re right. This ground cannot all be cleared all at once. What you must do, then, is to pull out the brambles and thorns a little at a time, each day. If you will do this, a little each day, then in the end the field will be yours.” Then the Elder told the younger man, “The same thing is true in matters of the Spirit. Only begin to practice as much as you can each day, and in the end you will have the fruits of your effort.”

So that’s Christian renewal: gratitude, imagination and daily practice—until further notice.     

Called to the Great Journey

I wonder if there is ever a time when we are not being called by God? To me, it seems embedded in our created natures to yearn for God. To put this a bit differently, the Holy Spirit and prevenient grace, speak to us of God, even when we are unprepared to respond or to make a confession of faith. We spend our lives immersed in the light, winds and water of the Spirit, in the illumining presence, the whispers and rustlings, the currents and waves, and sometimes even the confronting storms of the divine voice addressing us.

My own strongest experience of conversion and calling came during a summer of light, wind and waves, a summer of creation and yearning. I was hired as a canoe guide in the summer of '76, and with one other young man, we led a group of teen-aged youth, some troubled and some from normal backgrounds, on a long journey in a North Canoe (which held all of us and all our gear in one canoe). We paddled from the Minnesota border near Lake Superior, westward to the Lake of the Woods, then northward to Lake Winnipeg, and from there all the way to Hudson's Bay, imitating the journey Eric Sevareid and his friend took many decades ago.

We were paddling as a team for over two months, and often went a week or more without seeing other people. Every day was an adventure, a time of friendship, teamwork, physical challenge, deep conversation, and the intimate experience of vulnerability to the day's light, wind and water. You can't control the weather, as they say. And you can't control what God will do with you!

Somewhere on the Lake of the Woods, I was paddling in time with the rest of the group, and silently reading a tiny New Testament that was propped under my boot. Surrounded by the kids for whom I felt great responsibility on that great lakes journey, I stumbled across the 21st chapter of John's Gospel. Here was another lake, another time, and a man named Peter, who was also trying to care for God's people, but without much confidence or clarity about what he was doing. Jesus spoke to him, you remember, asking three times, "Do you love me?" And when Peter replied that he did, each time Jesus instructed and called him with these words, "Feed my lambs....Tend my sheep." And after all that, Jesus said, "Follow me."

Those words touched me so powerfully that day that I began to cry. Over me--the Light of God's love, touching and guiding me--the Winds of the Spirit, underneath me--the Waters of grace, around me and in my care--the People of God. I was converted and called by grace to tend the sheep.

I've tried to live on that great journey with Jesus ever since. Sometimes I don't do that very well at all, but at the heart of it all, is joy in constant communion with God, Christ, Spirit, humanity and all creation.

Pastoral Leadership in a Small Church

Dennis Alexander, our Urban and Ethnic Ministries Staff for the Minnesota Annual Conference, recently interviewed Bob Farr of the Missouri Annual Conference on their discoveries concerning effective pastoral leadership in small churches. Here are a few notes which may be instructive to our pastors and lay church leadership. As a matter of personal observation on our district, I think that the most effective pastors we have in such small church settings plainly demonstrate each of these characteristics, and to the degree that their ministries could be enhanced, it's also mostly through these characteristics.

What are the skill sets necessary for a pastor to lead a small congregation to become vital, healthy, and growing?

1. The ability to preach well, such that sermons connect with the people.

2. The crafting and execution of meaningful worship: inspiring, passionate, hopeful, participatory, joyful -- “an awesome experience of God.”

3. Quality pastoral care of the people within the congregation. Pastors aren’t going to be allowed to do anything new if they haven’t built trust among the resident congregation. Key first question: “Who are the five key people I need to visit regularly?”

4. The ability to relate to the people in your mission field. Do you enjoy your community?
Are you known by name by community leaders? Do you hang out at the café, at businesses?
Are you “one of the locals”? Name your mission field and work it!
Have holy conversations where you make yourself known and make contacts.
Don’t “hold down the fort” – Instead, spend 10 hours a week or more working your field (20% of your time).
Become the community pastor – “Call me, if I can help in any way.”

5. Bring in the next five new people into the faith community. (There are many doors!)
The first one will be the challenge. After the first, others will follow.
Demonstrate what you expect your congregation to do, but you must be the first to invite and bring.

What Pastoral leadership styles are needed in a small congregation?
Answer: Preacher, Team Builder, Shepherd, Evangelist (Mission Field), Visionary, Administration (Manager) – not so much the Chaplain or the CEO. These styles are for other ministries.

"Looking in the Direction of Easter"

Text(s): 1 Corinthians 13:10-12 and Luke 23:42-43

Every year at this time we start watching for the little signs that reflect the coming of spring: robins, jonquils, forsythia, snowbirds returning from Arizona and Florida. All of these signs converge and accumulate until we say, at last, it is now officially spring! The winter is gone! The call of the turtle dove is heard in the land!

So, spring comes. But I wonder where we look, how we watch, what early signs we should seek, when we want to know if it is Resurrection yet?

Paradise is hard to see and hard to spot in this world, I think. As Paul says, we now know only in part; we see, but dimly, so very dimly, how things should be, how things will be, even how things already are. We are all pretty much like the crucified thief, in a spiritual dead of winter, before he dared to call out to Jesus - still cold, still suffering in the dark, still barely aware that things could yet turn out differently. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis a little from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, if there is only Good Friday and never Easter, then sin and death win. We lose. Spring never comes. Paradise never blossoms among us. Hope never gains its full victory. Fair love never wins faint heart. Mistakes never do get set right; sin never does get forgiven; failure never is forgotten; grudges never are superseded by hopeful trust; and our hope is truly futile. "We of all people are most to be pitied..." if there is only Good Friday.

This is why we all need to seek Easter and resurrection, even in little glimpses, for Easter is power. Resurrection is not merely a fantasy for the soul-weary or the disturbed, any more than spring is for the winter-fatigued heart. It is not mind-candy, or some magic cure for triskaidekaphobia or other superstitious fears. Even in the tiny buds and pre-dawn chirps we see of it in this world, it is the power of God to transform all things, to restore all losses, to comfort all hearts, to give wings to the weary. When we cry out for help from our many winters and personal Good Fridays, only God can answer us from the direction of Easter Sunday with such words as these: “You will be with me in Paradise.” Spring will come to the heart and soul! Then you shall know face to face!

Change the World

Critical Review of Mike Slaughter’s “Change the World”
by "Dale's Gospel Sketch Pad"

Friends, I hope you will scan the summarizing review below of a recent, challenging book by Michael Slaughter, who will be our speaker at Annual Conference this year. It's not my work, but blogger "Dale" has done a thorough job of summarizing Slaughter's work, making the insights immediately accessible for your own ministries. I commend the review, the blogger, and the book for your study alone and with the leaders in your parishes, and in preparation for Annual Conference.

Mike Slaughter’s book “Change the World: Recovering the Message and Mission of Jesus” is a refreshing, informative, practical, and needed contribution to Church leadership in North America. The thesis can be restated by paraphrasing Pastor Mike’s creative turns of phrase. The church has spent too much time getting people into heaven instead of getting heaven into earth. Or, to say it again, in a different way; the church has spent too much time getting the world into the church instead of the church into the world.... Pastor Mike calls the church to return to the message and mission of Jesus.... He is transforming the dominant church paradigm and calling Christian leaders to a new model. The emerging model that Pastor Mike calls for is rooted and grounded in Jesus’ message and mission and finds its biblical grounding in Luke 4:18 (see also 61:1-2) as well as Matthew 25:35-40. (It’s also obvious Slaughter’s dependence on the Social Gospel movement.)

In this sense, his analysis is deeply theological and practical. He shows his indebtedness to his own theological tradition of Methodism by combining both personal holiness and social holiness in a fresh synthesis. Pastor Mike’s persistent and consistent focus on the Church’s mission to local communities is made clear throughout the work. For example, he writes, “The business of the church is to engage and empower disciples of Jesus in meeting the needs and closing the gaps of disparities for the least of these (p. xvii.)." ....

Chapter one is titled “Missional vs. Attractional.” The point of this chapter is that missional Churches follow Jesus’ call to the marginalized not worrying about their self-gain or self-image. He writes, “Mission Evangelism is not dependent on a person’s response, nor does it always have to be tied to a verbal presentation of the gospel. Jesus said people would be able to sort our truth from fiction by the demonstration of his follower’s love, followers who are willing to sacrificially lay down their rights, conveniences, and lifestyles so that others may live (p. 13)."

Chapter two is titled “Inclusive vs. Exclusive.” This chapter argues that the Christian church should always be ‘inclusive.’ In fact, he calls anything less ‘toxic religion.’ Another noteworthy point about this chapter is Pastor Mike’s clear and honest wrestling with the GLBTQ community. I applaud him for not ducking and diving his own position and stating it clearly.

Chapter three is titled “Disciples vs. Decisions.” This chapter offers very helpful information on disciple making in the church. He uses the analogy of community college motorcycle classes to stress that the church has to be intentional about how it helps people follow Jesus. His question at the end of the book haunts me: “Does your church have a clearly articulated process of discipleship training?”

Chapter four is titled “Micro vs. Macro.” This chapter urges the Church to simplify is processes. The strongest argument for doing this is so that sustained attention can be given to the essentials of Christian formation. “The focus will be given to the fundamentals of community, discipleship, and mission (p.57).” Another important argument for simplification is our recent cultural condition of “Economic meltdown, mobility, Time competition, Changes in family life, and a Networked society.” Another salient feature of this chapter is the concluding section where he outlined how he successfully empowered cell groups and house churches. Once again, Pastor Mike practices what he preaches, and has created space for those who will never darken the door of a traditional church. He provides these groups with resources and support. Over and over, Mike drives home the proverbial punch line: It’s about building disciples not church buildings.

Chapter 5 “Multiplication vs. Expansion.” The point of this chapter is that disciples and Missional Churches are built by multiplication not expansion of church building projects. An added feature of this chapter is the chart on pg. 77 that gives practical steps to revitalize dying congregations. And, as the careful reader has come to expect, multiplication helps fulfill the mission to “connect people to the liberating love of Jesus and to empower folks to rise out of the malaise of poverty (p. 82)".

Chapter 6 is titled “Mission vs. Mortar.” His prophetic urging in this chapter is for the church to minimize brick and maximize mission. He repeats this familiar phrase at least 10 times throughout the chapter. What’s extremely helpful, at least, for those of us in the local church trenches, is the easy way he has of categorizing budget expenses: ministry, mission, and mortar. He even offers a helpful sheet for tracking these important matters. His charge to Pastors is “to make sure that ministry and mission are not sacrificed on the altar of mortar (p. 95).”

And, Chapter seven is titled “Courage vs. Compliance.” This last chapter encourages church leaders to be people of courage, vision, and leadership in a world of compliance, mediocrity, and wilderness wandering. He concludes with four pieces of advice for church leaders. First, “Don’t let fear determine your actions.” Second, “Recognize holy ground.” Third, “Serve God’s purpose in others,” and lastly, “Focus Forward.” He ends with Len Sweet’s “out of control Disciple” and urges creative and courageous leadership on behalf of the world’s poor.

Foolish Christianity (before Lent Begins)

Think about Jesus’ most distinctive teachings. What does he teach that is undeniably unique? Isn’t there something humorous, playful, ironic, joyous in what he teaches?

• if someone strikes you, turn the other cheek.
• if someone forces you to go a mile with them, go two.
• if someone compels you to give up your shirt, offer your jacket as well.
• love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you and bless them.

All of those were in the Sermon on the Mount, and they sounded as foolish then as they do now. Only a foolish, little person would believe and practice such things! Only a fool for Christ would try to live them out! But there’s more!

• give your life away for God’s sake, then you will gain it.
• the greatest among you is the servant of all.
• find the greatest freedom in obedience.
• discover that Christ is to be found in the poor, in “the least of these.”
• trust that your redemption comes from a man who died in a state execution.

I read recently about a fellow who went on a college class trip into New York City. He saw his first Street Preacher working the sidewalks. The Preacher had on a sandwich message board. One side read, “I am a fool for Christ.” The other side said, “Who are you a fool for?” I guess that’s the point. We are always going to spend our time being a fool for somebody. What’s your choice? The gospel calls us to be “Fools for Christ.” We could try it out. But what would it be like?

We could fight against all our Midwestern Reasonableness and do something foolish for Christ. We could try to:

• forgive someone who doesn’t even ask for forgiveness.
• be kind to someone who doesn’t really deserve it.
• stop being just nice and tolerant and start being deeply compassionate.
• love our enemy, instead of fighting fire with fire.
• resolve to let someone “begin again” in our affections, in spite of all the ways they have disappointed or betrayed us.
• give to someone who cannot repay us.
• pray for someone’s healing or their deeper spiritual conversion to God and neighbor, against all the odds that we can see.
• give thanks for the foolishness of the little man, Jesus.

On the public radio program, “Speaking of Faith,” Krista Tippett interviewed the FBI whistle-blower from Minneapolis, Colleen Rowley. Now, if there was ever a foolish person, Colleen Rowley was one. There she was with a perfectly safe and stable career with the FBI, and she chose to jeopardize all of that by challenging her bosses about their performance in analyzing clues that came to them before the 9/11 terrorism incident. In fact, Rowley voluntarily took a cut in grade and pay because her own colleagues refused to work with her. Colleen talked about what motivated her to challenge the quality of the work done by the FBI, in spite of the personal risks she was taking. She concluded her remarks by referring to a statement that has become important to her. It is based on the “Ten Paradoxical Commandments,” written by Kent Keith. It’s a strangely foolish statement, yet it seems to capture the attitude we need to have if we are to even begin to be the fools for Christ that Paul imagined in 1 Corinthians. There are several versions of it, but here is one for you to consider:

The Paradoxical Commandments

1. People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
   Love them anyway.
2. If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
   Do good anyway.
3. If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies.
   Succeed anyway.
4. The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
   Do good anyway.
5. Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
   Be honest and frank anyway.
6. The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
   Think big anyway.
7. People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
   Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
8. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
   Build anyway.
9. People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
   Help people anyway.
10. Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
    Give the world the best you have anyway.

Foolish, foolish advice, but it is the wisdom of God. It is the way of the little man whom we often call “Lord and Savior.”

At the Threshold of Light

A close friend died on December 22, just past the winter solstice--as the longest night's darkness turns toward increasing light. The date would have meant something to him. He was a practicing Buddhist, and he saw his death as a threshold to something further, some new illumination that was now pending and opening to him.

When his family contacted his friends, they asked that all would pray for white Light to guide Andy. When they contacted us later, it was to let us know when he died. At the time I was hiking a trail near Lutsen, and the thought that was repeating itself in my mind as I stepped along the trail was just a question, "How would Andy's soul find me here if he were dying now?" Somehow he did come to find me on the day that light begins to increase.

In a rather different way, the Christ child has also come to find us, all of us--as the longest darkness recedes and gives way to increasing light. "He was the true light that enlightens everyone, coming into the world" (John 1:9). We ask ourselves, how will he find us; well, he knows us. He loves us, and he comes to find us wherever we are. He is a true friend.

"The Word Became Flesh" and the Body Became Wise

A Jewish poet remarked that we must “unscroll the Torah of our bodies.” The poet meant, I think, that our living bodies are continuous discoveries and marvels for us; only gradually opening, only revealing little by little, the beauty, the truth and the wisdom donated to us by God through the gift of our personal bodily being.

People say they don’t like their bodies. Too fat, too thin, too short, too tall, too wide, too narrow. Paagh! What a blunder! What a mistake! What incomprehension! For this third week in Advent, reflecting upon the ways “the Word became flesh”, we recognize the incredible persistence with which the human body seeks healing and life and meaning. This human body, in its wisdom and perhaps in its homesickness for the divine, hungrily and accurately reaches for the image and healing of the enfleshed Wisdom of God.

Look at Mark 5. A woman with a 12-year chronic illness hears about Jesus. She sees him in her town. She follows him. In the middle of a crowd of people, she inches up to him, closer and closer. As he slows to talk with others, she drops to her knees and humbly, invisibly, out of the depths of her suffering body, reaches out toward his body, toward only the hem of his clothing, as toward healing, toward light, toward life, toward incarnate love. The cure comes. At the same time, Jesus notices communication: he receives a pleading touch; he gives a restorative energy.

It was a cure by incarnation: the incarnation of divine compassion in Jesus, and the incarnation of human yearning, suffering and need in the woman.

In Christian terms, the wisdom or Logos of God, having accepted human life with its limitations and sorrows, will impart the easing and the ending of human suffering. The human body recognizes in the Christ, in his life and in “his wounds”, our hope and our healing. The exilic Isaiah says, and the early Christian community heard, that the Suffering body, the wise Servant, was “pierced for our transgressions…by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5, NIV). By his divine Wisdom and compassion, we recognize our own potential to impart ease or to end the suffering of others.

Conversion

We visited the town of Pollenzo, Italy a couple of weeks ago. There are remnants of a Roman town underlying everything there. We did not realize how these ruins still shaped the city until we learned that the "circle" of homes at the center of town actually rested upon the old foundations of a 10,000 seat colliseum. Mysteriously, the enclosed arena of one era's violent and brutal entertainments, gladiator fights and so on, had now become the flower beds and fruit trees of another epoch. The "conversion" of the arena into peaceful gardens may be a sign of true hope.

The Mystery of Orange

“There is not one blade of grass, there is no color in this world that is not intended to make us rejoice.” --John Calvin

When the sun set the other evening, there was a precious, short time when it shone between the cold cloud-line and the treed-horizon. The sun made the most of its single moment that day, setting as a thin, bright orange wall of color between grey clouds and darkening trees. As my wife and I walked, we became burnished, and every plant, sign, and house shone with the influence of the sunset. We were glorified by the incident of nature's timing.

Later, I think, how surprising that I cannot find "orange" in the NRSV translation of the Bible. Something of beauty, truth and goodness exceed our Scripture's expressions. As John Calvin once wrote, “Man with all his shrewdness is as stupid about understanding...the mysteries of God, as an ass is incapable of understanding musical harmony.” The mystery of Orange--and of much, much else from God will be unknown to us. Thank heaven!