Meet My Nanny

This is Miss Viola "Nanny Precious" Smith. We sent to Port Arthur to help rebuild her home and she ended up rebuilding our hearts. Her modest, 2BDR 1BA home was shaken off its foundation, nearly 2/3 of her roof blown off, and she was left with no hot water, no kitchen or other livable space for nearly 18 months after Hurricane Rita (the biggest of the three sisters storms of 2005 - Wilma, Katrina, and Rita). She is nearly 90 years old and still smiling. And to hear her story, no storm can shake house that is built by love.

Our job was simple. Jack this house up, re-frame two exterior walls, move those walls back on to the foundation joists and stringer, re-seal those walls, re-side three remaining areas of the extreior, build a housing for the hot water heater in time for the plumers to install the heater, re-frame the kitchen floor and mount the sub-floor, and apply and finish dry wall in two rooms. Six people worked on these tasks, a couple of days into the dinner hour, and to the final minute on Friday. But all of these jobs were done and done well. Plus a few extra screens got replaced and her shutters refinished and painted just for good measure. Soon Nanny Precious will no longer have to be moving aournd her own furniture and appliances (yes, this lady has been doing this to survive for some time now.

Of all that work, though, this and a pantry door were probably our greatest accomplishment. We've all had to replace a roof, and we've prbably experienced some termite damage. We have all replaced siding and window screens. These are maintenance jobs. But what really brought the devastation Nanny Precious and others ahve lived through, was the fact that she had not taken a warm shower from October 2005 when she returned to her home until Tuesday, July 17, 2007. And she was elated to have her floor back in her kitchen and a new pantry door installed. Its the little things that Nanny Precious simles about and appreciates. She knows how to move furniture and refrigerators at age 90. She can do that with ease because she has been handed stones when asking for bread in her search to rebuild her home. She has been the victim of sysetmatic racism as she and her husband were the first of many black households in what was thought to be a new and wonderful addition to Port Arthur. But she and her husband continued on and built that house with love, adding a garage they built themselves and a shed in the backyard.

What they built iwht love, we pray and hope that we rebuilt the same way. Thank you Nanny Precious for showing us how to seek the little things that matter most.

Peace

One Long Summer

Rewarding none the less, this summer has been a long one. Not in the terms of the hours and hours of sunlight calling me to figure out how I am going to waste the day, but in the many experiences that have made the summer seem nearly non-existent. I mean I really cannot believe that it is August already. Football season is creeping up and the fall schedule of events is going to be here before we know it.

I guess the least I should do is fill you in. When we last chatted here, I was just coming out of a funk. A long discernment period came to an end with several influences helping me make some decisions. I am currently in our church's search and call process and having a wonderful time. It has been much of an awakening to me and has led me to believe I may not have the passion I did ten years ago to help build the church as its pastor. Rather I am feeling called to build God's people as I live and work with them. I am excited though about one prospect, though. They are to be contacting me next week to let me know where they are. Last I knew a week ago, I was one of their top and final candidates. There are other options, though. I have found out being young with child and more on the way is not as scary as it seems. That love and trust bind us together in very wonderful ways. For the first time I have actually seriously thought about leaving ministry and being okay with it. That will wait, though. Let's see what is in store for in the ministry forum first.

Act II of the summer helped us make the transition from June to July. During that week beginning late on Saturday evening, June 30, I had a gall bladder attack. It was my second one in about two years, and this one was extremely painful. They kept me in the hospital until removal could be done on Monday afternoon, July 2. I came home on the 3rd and began making final plans for a work trip to Port Arthur, TX, to help with hurricane recovery efforts. What an amazing trip, and an amazing community. I just can't beleive some of that stuff gets lived through. The human spirit is amazingly strong in times of struggle and survival. They are truly folks who understand and even appreciate sacrifice.

One my return home, then I am playing catch up and anxiously waiting the calling of my future, and just exactly how to handle all of the details. The work trip really was a fasting moment for me and I have opened myself up to the fact that it is time to either move on in ministry in another place or move out and reamin faithful to God by using my gifts in others ways. I should know in a week or two what that decision is. In the meantime I will just fill you in some insights from the Gulf of Mexico.

Peace

Keeping In Touch

I have recently been quite surprised by the number of surprise calls from friends and folks whom I think of often, yet fail to keep in touch with very readily. These are actually people I consider friends and even family. I have been in their weddings, they in mine, I have even officiated a couple of them. And what a wonderful feeling it is to be extended God's grace in this way. To be thought of also in the same way your are thinking of them, yet something in life seems to get in the way at that moment you decide to reach out and touch them by phone. And I just don't care for the e-mail thing. That's for work in my opinion - a convenient way to help pass information that the world seems is important more quickly (i.e. get the crap out the way quicker).
I have decided that it is an important spiritual discipline to "keep in touch." Jesus was always reaching out and touching. That was the helaing ministry. And though in these relationships I have not been worthy to touch the hem of Christ's garments, I have been turned upon and healed wiht grace all the same. Of course, this may not be news to many. Of course it is spiritual to be keeping in touch. But I mean deeply touching each other, not just constantly or rapidly. I mean taking time every other night and devoting the kind of time you devote to your children or spouse - the kind of time where nothing else matters.
I am looking forward to my new practice. I am going to make it a priority to take time and call those who have recently contacted me first and work form there. As I enter more and more into this pastor stuff I am beginning to understand more and more the wise words Garrison Kiellor uses to sign off each morning from NPR's writer's almanac: "Be well, do good work, and keep in touch." And for those who think, "2 out of 3 isn;t bad at all," I'm here to tell you of these three none is greater than the other.

What Was Up There?

I was recently asked by a friend regarding my "bridge" post, what exactly I saw up there on the bridge. Here are just a few things:

I saw what time it truly is in my life...

someone who needs a little more guidance and attention now...

celebrations of life that are taken for granted (and two parades)

The endless possibilities that the priority of happiness has to offer

some things are just too much of a sticky situation

you'll always have your friends ... I love this pic by the way... I call it 'Livy E' because they look so natural and wonderful in this picture plus it looks like an album cover and their duet would be called 'Livy E'...

God's helping hand is ready for those willing to take the journey

Peace to you my Friends.

Diversity Management...

In recent months I have been blessed with a great deal of revelation and spiritual renewal, hence the previous post of crossing the bridge. Part of that renewal has been through defining things that have been with me and agitating me all along without a full understanding. One of these "defining" moments came through a mix of understanding the need for particular shifts in church culture, a slight discontent with youth ministry experiences, and the quote a quote from Ed White that recently lit up over my head.
Ed White was one of the facilitators at the missional/emerging church conference I attended in Princeton back in April. He is retired Presbyterian minister who still does consultation with Presbyteries and churches through Alban Institute. He was in a dialogue with Brian McClaren when he asked if Brina agreed with this statement: "Would you say that churches and the whole Christian faith are overmanaged and underled?" Of course, everyone in the room agreed. I agree, but was only seeing half the picture. I was seeing how the congregation I serve overmanages with none of its leadership positions neither currently functioning nor envisioned to function as leaders. The chruch overmanages and underleads. And here is how it has transformed my life and ministry.
I was also recently engaged in some sort of middle judicatory argument over the involvement of several generations in the discernment of some serious regional decisions. The "young adults" in the region got up in arms about the lack of "young adult" representation in this discrernment. On one hand, it is a theologically valid point in many ways. However, on the other the proposal of the said discouragment was sinful and simply a carry over of past overmanagement of different groups of people. Beside the fact that there is no clear way to define "young adult" except by age, and that age range is different with every person you ask, there is a problem with leading us all together into one vision of what God desires of all people. My friend April icnurred me to think the following: (mostly her thoughts adopted ofr my own spiritual renewal - thanks Pastor April!) At what point am I no longer a "young adult" and fenced in by all the misgivings and generizations aht come with that title. I am 33, a father of one and one on the way, married for 71/2 years, have nearly twelve years of experience in pastoral leadership, have been through college, seminary, and continuing ed seminars at some of the finest insititutions in the world, have lost a mother to terminal illness at 19, baptized a 4-month still born fetus, layed to rest an 8-month pre-mature baby, led younger and older couples than I into marriages that will certainly last longer than a lifetime, sandbagged a river with Desmond Tutu, paid off three automobiles, and have purchased a house, just to name a few things. At what point can I no longer limit myself to being a "young adult" and be considered a child of God with knowledge, wisdom, experience, wit, energy, and desire that is worthy enough to make my gifts considerable beyond my demographic? I have been offended by many older folks in my pastoral positions, but I have really been recently offended by my own "clan."
Thus the problem with the whole church. We do a great job of managing programs, age-defined groups of people, as well as gender and culturally-definded groups. But we are doing a poor job as doing the one thing we are supposed to do the most - lead all of God's people, diverse in more ways than just culture, race, and gender, into one holy and "catholic" union of believers bound together for the purpose of making disciples and presenting the good news of Jesus Christ. I know, I just started to meddle and even made a broad sweep at a theologicla statement. OOPS. I'll just go back to pastoring now. I am sure there is someone who needs me to take care of them in some way. Time to go change another diaper.

Crossing the Bridge...

Alright, already! I heard the hints of freinds lately to get back into this thing. And just today I was inspired to do so with some new direction. I want to introduce you to some things that have been ddep and rich in moving my spirit lately. But before I do that, bid me a time to ramble about my pitiful self for a moment.
I have been on teh bridge lately - right out in the middle. I wasn't looking down in contemplation, but certainly looking all around. Bridges are beautiful places to be if you are not afradi fo traffic and are not seriously yearning to jump off. But the surface is a juxstiposed reality of solid ground and engineered freestance that certainly puts a anyone who crosses in a vulenrable position that is often overlooked. But I have been crossing a spirtual bridge recently and I decided to stop and look, discover the view from such a high place, arching over the world that I might go into and the one that might be left behind regardless of which way I decide to exit. It has been marvelous up on the bridge. I never knew just how much you can discover, though it is hard to keep your focus with all the impending possibilities of danger. But now I am coming off the bridge, confident of the direction I am heading, and that the side that I am leaving will be there when I cross back across this bridge from time to time to gather more of the stuff I may have forgotten or couldn't find down the road a ways. The journey to God's heart and wisdom is full of bridges. And even these vulnerable places are built and sustained with God's ever-present, all encompassing love. But you can only stay on the bridge so long as traffic moves all around you, above you, and even beneath you. Yet it is one of the best places to be to discern.
How do I know that I am coming off the bridge? I ahave made a few affirmed decisions lately, I am not at all worried about those decisions, and my yearning and open heart has introduced me to new paths for the journey that I am excited to take, and am preparing for as we speak. Among them, a trip to Princeton Seminary, a trip to Eureka, Il, during Memorial Day weekend, and a tour of the thousands of findings after googling "missional church."
1. The trip to Princeton was for a learning experince on missional/emerging church leadership and a soul searching trip through the PhD program while I was there. I came back with the affirmation that what I have been learning, praying, teaching, shepherding, thinking, believing, etc. was all good and well, and that there are some minor adjustements I need to make in myself to move into the future - the first being stop trying to deny yourself and be yourself. And though I want to seek knowledge at higher levels, I can't stand to write down anything in academic form as to prove my intellect. I find it ironic that the church is being called to change by practicioners and academia alike, yet the academy thinks that certain forms and structures of communicating one's intelligence should remain for ions.
2. the trip to Eureka was filled with relaxation though not through a great deal of sleep, but simple affirmation that you don't need a Rose Bowl parade to be reminded of what binds humanity together. You simply need a small high school marching band that only marches to a drum cadence and never toots a single note the entire parade route, a few emergency response vehicles, military and patriotic plumage, a candy-wielding mayor on the back of an open convertible car, and some family passing through on their way to Arkansas that realized they were in a prade route so they jumped out and ran and got some candy for everyone along the way. Oh, and you need friends and family, breakfast and coffee on the front porch, pizza with all new generations at the favorite old place, the sharing of tasks to get children to bed, the 15-minute catch up conversations before the adults have to go to bed to prepare to get said kids ready whent hey start screaming our names in the morning, and a hug a kiss, and a "good to see you, friend," and a few, "noticed you haven't been blogging in a while."
3. And finally, I have no time to go into it all, but much will be following my recent surfing into a huge world of missional apologetics that is unbelieveably moving and affirming. More about this as I get things set up on this blog to direct you to some of the places I have been, and will contineu to be going.

But right now I have to go and work some more on my next sermon series. Oh, and by the way, I am continuing to go completely across the bridge and not go back, in case you were wondering.

To Feine, or Not to Feine

...as in to drink lots of caffeine, or not. That is the dilemma as we approach Holy Week. Between leading two different services in the community that week and trying to get the word out about our own 4 services from Thursday through Sunday, what will I do to keep from a trip to the ER for exhaustion? This has never happened in all my years of ministry and all its stresses. I usually do a good job and it's usually more stressful approaching and thinking about things more than anything else. But caffeine would help even though I am trying to stay away from it.

But one other thing gets in the way here, and I am having problems with this new admission in my life. I am a coffee snob. Yes, I said it. As I opened up the other day, the cupboard in our kitchen specifically packed with shelves full of coffees, teas, and their different paraphernalia, I was looking for a good decaf that had been requested. As I stumbled through, I noticed the two small plastic containers of brand name consumer grade coffee. On the cans was the "F" word of coffee drinkers. I actually thought for a moment, 'I can't believe this stuff exists in my coffee cupboard.' In fact I was taught recently that this stuff isn't even coffee. As remarked by a local barista friend I frequently visit, "I make and serve coffee, other people serve Folgers." We both laughed that better than thou ha-ha-ha that sounds like a cross between Lurch from the Aaddams Family and the millionaire on Gilligan's Island. And this thought regressed into other conversations that have made me silently reel with disgust in my mind, while politely listening with smile to others applaud certain brands of coffee served in the dives and restaurants, and gas stations. My stomach has always churned at the thought of a fancy named brand that is served at the local jiffy mart and gas mall. Or even worse, when I have witnessed people actually drinking out of those machines that spit, gurgle, and steam some brown liquid into cups. Not only does the product look disgusting, but I have a rule about drinking anything from something that sounds like my grandmother nagging at me - eeennnnnnnn - plplpl - eeennnnnnn - gurgle - zerbert.

SO. There you have it. I am a coffee snob, who by the way, refuses to also drink Starbucks for ethical reasons. If it's not tasty without cream and sugar, doesn't have a spirit-lifting aroma, isn't brewed in conventional way, can be purchased at a gas station or even some certain fast food chains who are claiming to have "premium" coffee, and does not excite the palliate and call for conversation about it, I don't want it. So what's this have to do with me trying to stay away from caffeine? Why do you drink coffee, anyway? Duh.

Excuses, Excuses...

I am so unbelievably behind on this posting stuff. Believe me, lots of interesting and noteworthy things have happened recently - dinner with Jimmy, the snow angle saving me and my family and Jimmy from a nearly stupid drive North (thanks, April), and church in the fellowship hall because of the new "weather policy" defining when and when not to use the sanctuary in order to save money on heat. I will note that no matter hwo theologically or ecclesiologically wrong said policy sounds, I will say that it does lend to creativity in the worship space and is gracious to the opportunity to try new things that might become staple in the "big room."

But recently, and today is no exclusion, I have been studying like no other time in my life as pastor and preacher. Instead of preaching the lectionary for Lent, I arranged a new sermon series. It has been over a year and a half since I had done a non-lectionary based sermon series, and I have forgotten how ridiculously difficult it is for a variety of reasons. Most prominent of those reasons is the task of isolating yourself from the word that needs to emerge from the texts and the focus of the theme. Preparing these sermons has almost like doing weekly research papers all over again, and strangely enough that has been exilerating to the soul. Don't get me wrong. The lectionary demands it's own amount of study and isolation all the same, but not near this much. And where the lectionary has gotten so repetitive and dry (even in all the commentary and updated dialogue resources), the sermon series has given me excuse to interview and talk to people in new and deeper ways that have been renewing and revealing, challenging and deepening faith experiences, and I have had to take time to read old "stuff" again, and discover new "stuff."

Don't worry. I can't do this forever. I am sure that by Holy Week, the winter relief of the sermon series will have run its course, and I will be bitching and begging for lectionary summer to come again. I have to go study some more before the library sells my bookbag.

Some excuse, huh? Take time out from writing, so and go write...