From Bryan’s Office...

Ten Things I Think I Think

2012-01-09T10:56:00.004-05:00

1) A heartfelt "till we meet again" to Duane Anders, Lead Pastor of Stillwater UMC in Dayton. Duane is off to pastor the Cathedral of the Rockies at First UMC in Boise, Idaho. Duane's leaving will create a huge hole in the conference. His is a voice for missional Christian faith and practice. Stillwater UMC, now a four campus church, has grown dramatically under his leadership as it's extended its reach into the community. Our loss is Boise's gain. Blessings upon the Anders as they make the big move to the Rockies. Hope the Cathedral of the Rockies is ready for some tie dye. Bake a potato for me buddy. God speed.

2) We have two Haiti mission experiences coming up in the next couple of months. A construction team is headed to Borde' February 17-25 to make repairs on the building where our long-time partner, Victory Christian Church, meets. The foundation and walls of the church were never built properly so a substructure of columns and beams fashioned out of concrete and steel will bear the load of the roof. This will make the building safe in the event people take shelter there in the event of a storm, and should also strengthen the structure considerably in the event of an earthquake.

March 3-10, our first medical team in Haiti in three years will be working jointly with the Methodist Church of Haiti and The Haiti Mission (a United Methodist medical mission based out of Charlotte, North Carolina) to do clinic work based out of Tovar (a village 45 minutes south of Cap Haitien). The primary task at hand will see patients at the Tovar clinic, as well as a couple of others, operated year-round by a Haitian staff led by Dr. Macklin Eugene. Community UMC's history of medical mission work has largely in the past been working in conjunction with a small mission organization to do day clinics at churches in various communities in the north country. While this was good work, there was a certain level of frustration with working with a mission that didn't have an ongoing medical staff or focus. We're excited to be working with The Haiti Mission, led by Dr. Raymond Ford, a dynamic retired pediatrician living in Charlottesville, Virginia.

If you are interested in either trip (particularly if you have a medical background) we could still use you. Feel free to contact us via our website, CommUMC.tv, to receive more information.

3) January 28 and February 25, we'll do two installments of what last year we called "The Big Drop". Last year we prepared to serve 1200 families in need by doing a distribution of boxes of food at the West Ohio Food Bank building on Kibby Street. The location proved to be less than ideal as traffic was backed up on Kibby Street all the way back to Main Street (about two miles). This year we'll do our January drop at Northland Plaza and the February drop at the former Wal Mart location on Cable Road.

The Big Drop was born out of the understanding that while people tend to be particularly generous during the holiday season, the level of donations for all local non-profits drops off precipitously in January and February - or as we like to call it, "the dead of winter" - when the need tends to be the highest. By distributing food late in the month, the goal is to help eliminate hunger in Northwest Ohio by providing a family a weeks worth of food at the time of the month and time of the year its needed most. We're looking for those willing to serve. Use the link above to sign up on line.

4) On a personal note, the stomach flu is going through the Bucher house, so you'd be well served to avoid it in the near future. Consider this a friendly warning or, for those with little common sense, a dare.

5) I'm excited about the pending launch of a new "Lay Pastor" ministry here at Community UMC. Already eleven people, led by our soon-to-be "Lead Lay Pastor", Dr. David Imler, have committed to do our inaugural ten week training and be commissioned as our first Lay Pastors on Easter Sunday. Over the last five years we have learned how vital it has been to have lay people visiting our shut-ins (via our SUM Doves ministry) and those in the hospital (via our Lay Chaplaincy ministry). Lay Pastors will help us augment currently functioning lay ministries, while also helping to expand pastoral care and connection to those who are new to our congregation, those who might need some sort of aid, or to make contact with those who have drifted out to the margins. Classes don't begin until the end of the month, so if you are interested, please contact us via our website.

6) For the first time since our local ecumenical group - Church People for Change and Reconciliation - disbanded, area churches are now making plans to create a uniform effort to help those in our community who are in need. Allen County Christian Assistance (or whatever it will be called) will involve area churches utilizing the resources provided by the Salvation Army to provide aid to those calling us looking for assistance toward rent, utility bills, food, and other needs. Because the Salvation Army has connections with all the area agencies, staff to do screening, a on going data base of those who have received aid previously, and a deep commitment to fulfilling the work of the Gospel, they are a perfect funnel for the numerous requests we receive throughout the year.

There are number of benefits to distributing aid in this manner. Due to HIPPA laws it's become increasingly difficult to work with area agencies to do screening of applicants. We simply too don't have the time to track down in our office the veracity of every request. We also share numerous stories of the same people simply calling multiple churches on a regular basis to ask for support. Often this has resulted in someone else, who isn't "working the system", requesting aid after funds have been exhausted.

By utilizing the Salvation Army's social service office, we can work together to do screening, while maximizing our resources. There's also a possibility volunteers can help in the social service office to offset whatever rise in volume they might see from church referrals. I have high hopes.

7) My prediction for tonight's BCS Championship? It'll eventually end, and so too will this miserable college football season. Come quickly Urban, and that right soon.

8) Ten things is a lot of things to think. Right now I'm thinking about lunch.

9) For those who have followed this blog off and on (which describes too how often it get written), a couple of updates on a couple of the people who are often my focus. Brother Esq is now living with his family in Findlay, Ohio. He works here in Lima out of the office of "Balyeat, Daley, Leahy, and Miller" and also has an office in Toledo. He's mostly doing moving violation work, OVI's (nobody better in the area at this), and bankruptcies. You can find him at this fine looking web site which was designed by my lovely wife. He's still a rabid Buckeye fan and you can find him on any given day eating with me at his favorite hangout, Lulu's Diner.

10) The Great One (my grandmother, who got her moniker because she is our kids' great-grandmother... hence The Great One) fell in December on her 85th birthday and broke her hip. After surgery and a stay in a local hospital, she's been in the rehab unit of a local nursing home here in Lima. The Great One is struggling with her rehab, somewhat frustrated with her diminishing memory (she's always been sharp as a tack, so this has been the hardest adjustment of all, I think), and is feel down. She gave up using the internet because she struggled to remember how to operate the computer. She would frequently give me a hard time about my lack of posts. It saddens me to think she's not there reading what I've written, formulating comments and suggestions to be emailed back to her grandson (the good looking one). Please just remember to ask the Lord to send an extra measure of grace and peace to "The Great One" in your prayers. I'd appreciate it.

Ten Things I Think I Learned in 2011

2011-12-30T13:28:00.002-05:00

Does this thing still work? Hope so. After a truly compelling, challenging, difficult, draining year, here's the ten things I learned, for better for or worse. Here we go...

1) Kids grow up fast

Good thing this is free, huh? You surely wouldn't pay for this obvious observation. But this learning is a learning I learn just about every day. I have a son who played a tuba solo at a Christmas Eve service, rotates in his own social orbit I know less and less about, and is almost my height. Yesterday it seems I was walking him in a stroller past the house owned by the crazy lady who beat on a drum to scare the birds out her tree. Now he's texting. Seems like I've missed the better part of the last almost 13 years times four. What I do with that information will determine the level of my wisdom (great to non-existent) between now and 2024.

All in all, I'm proud of my boys. Thank God for their mother. After 13 years of tremendous personal sacrifice professionally, it's time for some changes.

2) Forty isn't the new thirty. It's just the same ol' forty, and I'm running out of time.

I spent a few days at the "Change The World Conference" at Ginghamsburg (UM) Church this past fall, and came to the conclusion that professionally I am running out of time. The mission of God is great, and I am finite. This realization has given even greater urgency to my sense of time and responsibility.

Over the last two years I kind of got waylaid. In 2009 I had a pretty clear picture of what I thought God wanted in terms of pastoral ministry and leadership. The goal, I sensed, was more active involvement in serving our local community.

Help those who are spiritually hungry, find a faith community that fostered within them, a faith life that matters. That makes a difference. That's hard, but rewarding.
Alleviate hunger and poverty, while helping those who were hungry to do so, improve their lot.
Break down racial barriers that - as they exist to the degree they do - are holding our community back, submarine new investment, contribute to a negative attitude regarding our town, and quite frankly make the local church a fraction effective as it could be.

I wasn't shy about sharing these goals with the congregation, or anyone else for that matter, but in 2009 we weren't in a position to make any of this happen. Our discipleship ministry - the act of fostering a faith life that matters - was still our Achilles heel. This, in turn, limited our ability to invest in ministries that make a difference. And if you want to take on the most difficult task in the world, then make breaking down racial barriers in any kind of meaningful way a top priority.

For whatever reason, as we've worked on some other stuff we were supposed to do to serve our community, the work we've been doing has helped us clarify those objectives and positioned us to make real in-roads into making disciples. The lessons in entrepreneurship, taking risks, finding out what we could and couldn't realistically do will be essential in our community of faith becoming a force inside God's mission to transform the world, and shake up the way people relate to one another in this community.

It just takes time, and time is something each one of us has less and less of, each and every day.

3) Everything important begins over lunch

A couple of weeks ago our music ministry led worship in the form of their annual "Christmas Cantata". The term "Christmas Cantata" though, doesn't really do justice to what it was they did. When I hear the word "Cantata" I think of choirs singing in Latin or German accompanied by an organ and orchestra. Our music ministry led worship that featured music that could only be described as "hymns to hip hop", a term embodied by the choir singing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful" completed with a bridge in the middle rapped out by our friend and Future Church member, Aaron Henderson.

During the first service, which is designed to be very traditional (but not boring, which seems to be a hallmark of the traditional church), some folks from Aaron's church who were there to enjoy the worship, would on occasion, as they were moved by the music, stand up, sing, clap, and just generally enjoy themselves while letting those on stage know how much they appreciated their gift that morning. I know that whole scene stretched some our more traditional members. Hip hop. Standing in a worship service without some sort of prompting. Rap. Believe me, while I wasn't here that Sunday (I was preaching at our Bath campus), I heard about it.

But you know, what I overwhelmingly heard wasn't just positive, it was almost reverential. Folks who have been going to church here before Nixon was President who never thought they'd see the day we would actually, even in a moment, worship diversely. It actually made some people cry with joy. One lady, a retired librarian, described the experience as being "overwhelming, in a good way".

We don't enjoy these kinds of experiences, made possible via a relationship with a diverse urban church who genuinely loves us (and we love back), without lunch. Numerous lunches. Lunches between the pastor of that church (now an associate pastor here) and myself. Lunches between various members of those two churches. Formal lunches celebrating Christmas. Informal lunches on the go thru Arby's drive thru. Lots of lunches.

If you want to change or improve anything, find someone in a different circle but still like-minded, and start going to lunch. That's where Jesus will begin to be incarnated... over bread and the cup.

4) Once you get a ball rolling downhill, the hardest thing to figure out how to start pushing it faster.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, mustering a discussion of any kind of change was a real chore. My entire first year as lead pastor here at Shawnee UMC was a year of trying to slowly coax folks into thinking about our future while changing almost nothing. There's nothing quite like trying to get people thinking about what kind of church God wants us to be while at the same time changing as little as possible so as to not freak people out.

Admittedly, those people who had been here the longest felt like they had the most to lose with any kind of potential change. But something strange has happened along the way. As small changes were made, tweaking in worship style and content, changes in mission emphasis, lots of lunches, and an openness to more entrepreneurial lay leadership began adding up into large changes (new leadership structure, second campus, new staff hires, expansion of ministry and mission), the demands made on me by this church, particularly the senior staff, began to change.

Now I find myself not leading change fast enough. It's like when I was a kid and for years people tried to get me to try shrimp, and I refused. Lots of energy was expended trying to get me to take a little nibble, and finally one night at a New Years Eve party, the nibble was taken. Within short order my Dad had to figure out what to say to a son who wanted to order shrimp cocktail and fried shrimp whenever our family went out to dinner.

Shrimp, like institutional change, is expensive, man. How do you keep growing appetites satisfied after the first nibble becomes a craving?

Not long ago I was getting chastised by one of my senior staff for only "talking about change and not actually leading it", and the words coming out of that mouth were being uttered in a totally renovated building on a campus rescued from the dead over the last two years at great personal and corporate sacrifice. Needless to say, I felt like strangling somebody, but upon further review, that's the price paid for selling a vision and people buying it.

Expand our footprint? Grow in diversity? Challenge the congregation to greater depth of spiritual resolve? It's all happening. Now the question is, how do lead this kind of change when it's "in motion", buy-in is expanding, some of the more traditional folks are getting a bit nervous (see "rapping during Cantata), and you want to make a few changes in your own life (see kids growing up fast)?

I used to be behind the boulder being rolled up a hill. Now there are bunch more people with me doing some pushing. How to cheer them on and figure out how we can all live together in relative peace is the new challenge I'll face in 2012.

5) Bureaucracy isn't a dirty word

I know, I know.... this coming out of the mouth of a guy who genuinely hates going to meetings, keeping files, and ran from being a conference bureaucrat only eight and half months of pushing those kinds of papers. But largely thanks to my SPRC chair, Esther Baldridge, I'm beginning to see the wisdom in a paper trail. In evaluations being made, goals being set, boundaries laid out, strategic plans planned, and the bar of accountability raised. Also, it's good to develop a good poker face. I'm going to spend much more time with those who have learned to do this well over the next year. It'll be vital to the cause.

6) Whatever the "default" position is on a person's expectations, is the "default" position you are left to work with.

Once upon a time I thought church was all about after-church dinners, meetings, robes and traditional (mainline) forms of worship. Over the years those "default" expectations have been slowly eliminated.

My time in Goshen, Indiana had a lot to do with this. At the time Goshen First UMC was one of the few multi-site congregations in the country. And as far as second sites go, for the first year and a half I was there, the second one was really a rented middle school auditorium and a truck. In was in that setting that my sense of what lengths a church should go to in order to be faithful to God's mission was seriously altered.

If preaching in a middle school auditorium was beneath me, it wasn't after that experience. If the expectation that the church would be replicated by the preceding generation growing up in it's pews or that everyone knew "how to behave in church", those expectations were blown away as the unchurched flooded our auditorium seats. If I thought church people would be overjoyed to rub elbows with people who largely weren't in their meetings and classes, I found out quickly just how wrong I was. If asking people to sacrifice to build a structure or ministry they would largely never utilize themselves seemed foolish, after "The Life Center" experience I became willing to play the fool.

But along the way what I've discovered is that there are some "defaults" I still struggle with, and I'd consider me to be pretty progressive in my understanding of what is or isn't a "sacred cow". If I'm progressive, then the mainstream church is as a whole pretty attached to their "defaults". Relax even for one second on coaxing, inspiring, and occasionally exhorting people out of these default expectations, and you pay a price later because they never really go away. Ever. You just have to convince most people to put them away in their attic, again, again, again, and again.

7) Good friends are invaluable and keep you sane.

I think this speaks for itself.

8) Institutions who benefit off the backs of others solely for their own perpetuated existence will at best end up looking foolish, and at worst will end up being destroyed from the inside, out.

I think every Tunisian or Egyptian or Libyan or Syrian, the NCAA, Penn State's athletic department, all the folks bilked by MF Global learned this lesson this year, in spades.

9) You aren't working out whilst laying down on your couch, even if the can you are lifting is filled with Diet Coke.

Worked out day before yesterday after months of nothing but physical inactivity. My body is still reminding how stupid all that inactivity was, which is why I need to get this done and go up to the Y.

10) Most of us set expectations that are too low. Shoot for the moon, and even if you miss it, you'll still be among the stars.

I actually had a sticker with this phrase on it on my mirror growing up. It was given to me by a guy named E. Larry Moles, or as he was known around these parts, "The Man from Pinch". E Larry grew up in Pinch, West Virginia, a sleepy little hamlet (or more accurately, "holl'r") in the Elk River Valley. During my year playing for the little league team from Big Chimney (sponsored by Myres Funeral Home) we played a couple of games in Pinch, which puts me in the small minority of people who have any idea where it is. When we moved to Lima in 1980, E Larry, who sat with us every Sunday at church, loved it that I had experienced as a small child his home town.

E Larry (and I always used the E) ended up moving to Lima with very little in his pocket. By the time he died he owned a number of small businesses locally and was in demand as a motivational speaker all across the country. He used to say hokey stuff like "shoot for the moon, and even if you miss it, you'll still be among the stars", but the thing was he really believed what he was saying. It was, besides the grace of God, the only explanation he had from growing up dirt poor in the small town of Pinch, West Virginia, to becoming someone governors now called "Mr. Moles".

I used to see that sticker every day in my mirror, and now I think maybe - even in all its hokeyness - has sunk deep into my psyche. If anything I've learned a lot this year as to what was possible if only you keep your eyes on the only prize that matters: Making disciples of Jesus who transform the world. In the process the disciple finds meaning and peace, those served receive a little break from a difficult life, and space is made for the grace of God to draw his children closer to them.

Oh... and you get to do a bit of space travel.

My prayer is in 2012, you lift your eyes to find your "moonshot". Start saving up for your rocket, and hang on tight. It's a heck of a ride.

Broken, But God Is Still With Us

2011-08-13T17:33:00.004-04:00

(once again, some loose ramblings that will hopefully lead to a sermon this weekend)

Last week we started our third, and final series of the summer entitled, "Living Out". We started in June talking about living in accountable community while listening, hearing, and obeying God. We took time to investigate how God speaks, and the ways he might be listening to us, as well as the importance of acting on what God asks of us in accountable community so that 1) we don't act on an impulse that just plain crazy and 2) we have people to help us follow through with what we say we're going to do. This is the way we become a disciple, and the discipleship process is only completed when we begin discipling others ourselves.

In the second series, Living Up, we took four weeks to look at the nature of our relationship with God. We talked about sin as separating us from God and others, God's initiated effort to help us bridge the "sin gap" between him by making a "covenant" with us, and bridge the same gap with others by helping us understand our place in his "kingdom".

As we faithfully follow God's leading in a covenanted relationship with him, via following Jesus, these four weeks of "Living Out" are focused on bridging the gap between us and others as we live in "God's kingdom". Last week we looked at the question if God accomplishes what he wants in the lives of others by bestowing upon us prestige, power, and prosperity, or rather if He leads through our becoming a servant, broken but still faithful, ready to provide protection and possibilities for others. To understand this, we're looking at the life of Joseph, who, even though he was the recipient of his Father's preferential love - symbolized by Jacob giving him the famous "coat of many colors" - that God establishes a pattern we see again and again in the Old Testament, and then in the life Jesus, and the Apostles, of leading through our brokenness. Joseph, like us, is greatly loved, but at 17, clueless, prideful, and boastful, he sends his father into a funk, and antagonizes his brothers to the point that they use the symbol of "preferred love" - the colorful coat, now ripped up and covered with blood, proof of Joseph's supposed demise - to get rid of Joseph by selling him as a slave to Egyptian traders.

Eventually, we know that Joseph's continued faithfulness will eventually protect and provide for his family, his nation, and even his enemies. But Joseph is broken - deprived of his prestige, power, and prosperity - before he can be used by God to do his work. Such is the case with Israel, and the example left to us by Jesus, who emptied himself of his privileged position at the right of the Father, to come live with us. It's through his willingness to be like us, to point of suffering, rejection, and death, that Jesus, as a suffering servant, offers us a way back to God.

The way of brokenness and self-sacrifice on behalf of the Lord and others, is the way of Jesus. It is the way of his followers.

Brokenness and sacrifice don't sound all that great, does it? Every time I preach a sermon on this subject, if my Dad is present and listening, he always gets afterwards at lunch for sounding too much like a "debbie downer". He'd prefer I'd tell a nice story that will make you laugh, maybe make you cry, but in the end leave you with a sense of hope and optimism about you, yours, and this crazy 'ol planet we live on.

The strange thing though, is that a life of broken sacrificial faithfulness is, in the Kingdom of Heaven, not mutually exclusive to a fulfilling life. Joseph is a good example. Twice, after he finds himself in Egypt, cut off from his family and seemingly from his destiny, Joseph's life, even under less-than-ideal circumstances (he is a slave, for Pete's sake) is one that provides protection and possibilities for others. First in the house of Potipher, the captain of Pharaoh's palace guard, he proves himself so trustworthy and capable, that eventually takes over all of Potipher's "at-home" responsibilities. And then, after Potipher's wife can't convince Joseph to hop in the sack with her, in prison, once again he rises to a position of importance as chief jailor's right-hand man. Genesis 39:22, tells us that the chief jailer trusted Joseph so completely, that he had no worries cause he knew Joe would always come through... and all the while that also God remained with Joseph.

When our ego and pride are taken down a peg or two, or when we of our own volition decide to humble ourselves by offering up what we have to help others, it does, I think, two things.

First, we start to get a true accounting of who we are. Joseph who once spent his time lording his position in his father's household over his brothers, now finding himself at the very bottom of Potipher's household pecking order, changes his expectations and attitude. He discovers that he's good at a lot of different things, and when he used those gifts working hard and diligently, that he gets results. Joseph begins to discover that it wasn't because of who his father and mother are that made him a potential candidate for greatness, but rather it was through all the ways God had gifted him.

We all have some form of talent God has given us to use for his purposes. I'm in the season right now of many funerals. Among five funerals I've done since mid-July, last week I buried Ruth Wilcox, Phil's mother, and this week I'll be burying Skip Chiles. It was fascinating for me to sit and listen to all the ways Ruth and Skip's children described the talents their respective parents were endowed with by God, and all the interesting ways they used them in the interest of their family and friends. Ruth has to be the first woman in all of the years I've been doing this sort of thing, who was described as having great carpentry gifts, to the extent that she largely built the family's first house, and then radically reconstructed what became later the family home. The kids relayed a vivid story of Ruth's husband, Stubby, coming from from a week on the road as a trucker, to find the wall between the kitchen and the boys' bedroom, gone, and the boys now living in an attack which now had finished walls and a floor.

I listened too to Skip's family talk about what a tremendous caregiver Skip was. He cared for his parents, in-laws, wife, and a number friends as their lives wound down. He cared, until his death, for his son Carl. Carl was born with Downs Syndrome the same year I was born, 1969. Skip not only took care of Carl in terms of day-to-day family living, but was used his skills as an education provider and administrator by serving on the board of Marimor Industries. Skip, and a number of saints who I've been honored to meet and know in this community, were a part of a small, but determined group that were intent on giving those with disabilities of all kinds opportunities and hope that had previously not been afforded to them.

A woman who was good with a hammer, and a man who was an outstanding care-giver. It defies the stereotypes and expectations I suppose, but the natural gifts both these good folks carried inside them, bloomed under less than ideal circumstances. But it is through those experiences of brokenness and sacrifice they helped moved those they loved, and even those they didn't really know, forward. It is when we serve that we truly begin to discover what we are capable of.

Second, as we discover all of these blessings, we find out just how good God is. Both Potipher and his household, as well as the chief jailer and all the inmates at the prison, experienced God's goodness through Joseph's faithfulness. And even when Potipher's wife throws Joseph under the bus, he still never goes into a shell of self-pity, wallowing, anger, and dismay. Instead he continues to understand God as good because God has authored so many good things inside of him.

In fact, we witness just how much Joseph has grown and matured, even under difficult circumstances, as a servant in Potipher's house. As he discovers who he is and who God is, he begins to understand the demands of living in faithful obedience. The self-absorbed teenager, now confronted with the opportunity to take advantage of his place in his master's house, stands instead on greater principles than his own personal satisfaction and enjoyment. God, Joseph begins to understand, demands honesty, integrity, and humility, even when standing on these principles can cost us dearly. The bottom prisoner in a penal system has to be an even more daunting and depressing prospect than being the bottom slave in a household. But Joseph sticks to his guns, because God's good work isn't just accomplished through the gifts He's given us, but the through the character he desires us to impart through those actions. It may cost us to do the right thing, but as we discover the God who authored our gifts and talents, we discover what he's made of, and those things - integrity, honest, character, justice, grace, mercy, peace, and love - are the only things that really matter and survive.

So yes, the Christian life is a life of brokenness and self-sacrifice, but it is by no means joyless and empty. It leads, rather, to greater understanding of ourselves, the Lord, and the betterment of those around us - some whom we love and others who make it difficult for us to love. If you think about those who have blessed you greatly, how much better has your life been made through their sacrifice and brokenness on your behalf? Of what quality do you consider those who sacrificed greatly so you could stand where you are today? Did they seem broken and alone, or did they possess a strength and dignity that radiated beyond themselves to those around them?

In our tradition as Methodists, the we use different language to describe the Christian life. Instead of calling it the "way of brokenness and sacrifice", we sum up this life with three simple rules. They are in fact, the General Rules of our community:

1) Do no harm.
2) Do good.
3) Stay in love with God.

If you want to find a truly Christian person, living a Christian life in an imperfect world, you could easily sum them up as someone who does no harm, does good, and stays in love with God.

I know that this has been the case for me. Those who I look up to the most are those who do no harm, do good, and stay in love with God. Dr. and Mrs. Becker. Pat and Helen Price. Gerald Goodwin. Gene King. Stan and Betty Weller. Don Johnson. Melva Mumma. The list of saints from our little community here at Shawnee Community who have made an imprint on me were all people who in their own way, as they sought to faithfully follow Jesus, did their best not to harm others (and were quick to admit their fault when they did), did good whatever way they were able, and found new ways to stay in love with God.

I remember stories at his funeral of patience treated by Dr. Becker when they had no money to pay his fee. I remember Pat Price ripping a group of teens for playing instruments too loud in a worship service, and then the next Tuesday at their rehearsal apologize with a pizza and some root beer. I can remember Gene King lovingly explaining to us all what it was like to be a person of faith and carry the memories of what being a soldier in Korea demanded of him. I remember Gerald Goodwin working crazy hours to crack a case as a detective to bring someone to justice, and then stand in a hot kitchen with Buzz Alder to get the hot dogs and chicken sandwiches ready for sale to support missions, and all on no sleep. I can remember Stan Weller taking money out of his pocket to install pluming for a woman who had none as he suffered the heat of the South Carolina day and a group of teenagers less than a third his age. I can still see Helen Price, in her seventies, willing to do an intense Bible study and then go on an Emmaus walk because she wanted to stay in love with God, and pass it on to others.

Do no harm. Do good. Stay in love with God. This is the way God calls us to begin to repair damage sin has done in our relationships and in our world. And it's accomplished by people who have, through own their own brokenness, and then personal sacrifice, understand that they have been called by God for this work. A God who remains ever faithful, and teaches us that faithfulness as we seek in our lives to not do harm, do good, and intentionally stay in love with God, regardless of our circumstances. This is the way that leads to riches and treasure that cannot be stored on earth, but are only multiplied in the Kingdom of Heaven, now and forever.

Joseph discovers that the character that the Lord forms in him while he uses the gifts he's received for God's glory is what will sustain him as he offers himself to be used to save Egypt, his family, and all the known world. But he learns that character as a slave and a prisoner. Not exactly the education or work experience we would think of for producing servant leaders that bring justice and peace into the world, is it?

Groomed for Greatness

2011-08-06T15:12:00.008-04:00

"Through the repeated hammer blows of defeat, destruction, and deportation, interpreted by the faithful prophets, Israel has to learn that election is not for comfort and security but for suffering and humiliation."
— Lesslie Newbigin

It's good to be back after some time with the family. For a week the most earth shattering decision we had to make was mac and cheese or ramen noodles for dinner. Everybody needs a week like this every so often to keep their sanity. Some ramen noodles, afternoons swimming in a lake, and some time wrapped up with a book.

Or in my case, thanks to the Kindle app on my phone, books.

Kindle is fantastic. At your fingertips you have now available thousands and thousands of books. Some are fairly expensive ($10-12), but most aren't. Many are three bucks or less.

So after reading John Grisham's latest (again), Sammy Hagar's autobiography (in the end, he owns a bar in Mexico.... that's all you really need to know), and a murder mystery with a Christian twist ("Beyond Justice", by Joshua Graham), we still had a few days left so I searched around to find one more book. For three bucks I could pick up "The Irresistible Revolution: Living As An Ordinary Radical" by Shane Claiborne.

So I did, and now it's messed me up, but good.

If you don't know who Shane Claiborne is, he's become the face of what being called the "New Monasticism" movement. These are folks who have decided to try practicing ekklesia (or as we call it, the church) in what would seem to be new forms (as opposed to church building, denominations, ordained pastors, administrative boards, and Sunday Schools) but are actually very old forms of doing the Christian life together that pre-date what most of us understand to be "how to do church". The "New Monastics" don't really have one form. Some live in small communities that look a lot to outside observer as "hippy communes". Others gather for "simple church" or in a "house church" that gathers in a living room, or a some building that could be picked up cheap and rehabbed.

They are all committed to the poor and oppressed, working in numerous ways either on their own, or in partnership with other churches, not-for-profits, foundations, and social service agencies to address these issues. They are largely urban movements (although not entirely) and are more often than not concentrating their efforts in cities that have been devastated by years of changing economic fortunes, the ongoing legacies of race riots in the late sixties and seventies, and the crack epidemic that hit in the 80's.

As a pastor professionally I have been living through a tremendous period of tumult in the American church. Mainline denominations have continued to decline (because, some say, they forgot the Bible, while others believe it's due to taking the Bible seriously). The non-denominational (and the many denominational churches pretending to be non-denominational) "megachurch" has exploded. And all the while church attendance and involvement have continued, as a whole, to decrease, and markedly so, from generation to generation.

At this point I've cast my lot with the mainline Christian experience. You know you're pretty much "all in" when you've been asked to consider becoming the new chairperson of your denomination's Board of Health Insurance and Pensions. You couldn't be any further inside the belly of the beast of the organized church than I am. The idea of selling everything I own, forming, and living out into some Christian commune where we grow our own tomatoes and invite the homeless to come live with us sounds to me, at best, "romantic", and in real terms, "impossible".

To Shane Claiborne and all the other v2.0 monks, that's a sad statement... and maybe on some level, personally, I feel a little sad too. Like the rich man, who Jesus feels sorry for when he leaves conflicted, unwilling or unable to sell all he owns, give it to the poor, and follow the Master. Maybe movements filled with people who share in common while building relationships with their neighborhood are the future of the Christian movement in this country. A way to make life sustainable and even more important, good, in places that right now are the very definition of hell on earth.

So I'm not a candidate, I don't think, for new monasticism. I think I'd get laughed out, or tossed out of my congregation if I suggested this was the new direction - putting the "Commune" in "Community UMC" - we were heading.

But the church, not just us but most every church, in this great nation of ours, just like the Roman Catholic Church confronted by the v1.0 monks, led by St. Francis of Assisi, should be challenged by what the monastics are trying to do.... simply live out the words, literally, of Jesus. Their example should humiliate us a little. Challenge our understanding of what a church is and what the church should be doing with its time, energy and resources. Maybe what they are doing may seem absurd, or maybe even foolish, but aren't the hungry being fed, naked clothed, and peacemakers celebrated? Jesus said the Lord uses foolish things to confound the wise of the world to give them some idea what kind of upheaval the Kingdom of Heaven might entail and how far away their lived-out version of that wisdom was from that Kingdom.

That's what has got me all messed up. I'm worried about paying the light bill and the carpet while Shane Claiborne and his buddies are sleeping on the street with the homeless whom they just fed in the hopes their presence will begin to get the ekklesia, the church, thinking of dealing with the homeless issue. To some they may look like troublemakers or fools, but that's what has me so concerned....

Maybe we're so concerned about maintaining an air of respectability that we are no longer capable of holy foolishness? Or worse, maybe we're the wise the foolishness is meant to convict.

I'm wondering if God just doesn't want us to sit up and take notice, but actually become increasingly foolish, as we're able, ourselves?

I mean, I get it... nobody likes to look foolish. That's the reason you hide all those old photos they took of you back in the 80's. Teased, feathered hair. Pegged pants. Spandex and leg warmers. Skinny ties. There's plenty of evidence as to how ridiculous those of us from that era looked as kids. I must have owned a dozen rugby shirts, each one looking a little more ridiculous that the last. Nobody likes to play the fool.

But throughout the Bible, God's people, sometimes of their own volition and sometimes due to circumstances, often have to experience a profound change in their expectations through profound experiences of humiliation and brokenness, so that something which appears foolish can actually bring great transformation, not just for one, but for many, some friends and other enemies.

This is a great theme that runs through out the Bible, one reinforced many times over. It's certainly Joseph's story.

Everybody knows who Joseph is thanks to countless Vacation Bible Schools, that song Dolly Parton wrote about her "coat of many colors", and Andrew Lloyd Webber writing a musical about his life which then made Donny Osmond relevant again. Or at least they know about his coat of many colors. The coat his father, Jacob, who would be renamed Israel, gave him because he loved him so much more than all of his other brothers.

Joseph, thanks to his father's preferential love, got a little full of himself. Genesis 37 tells us that he flaunted his privileged position among his brothers, and even his family. He talked openly of dreams he was having where his brothers most of whom were older than he was, bowing before him. Jacob gets so frustrated with his son's behavior, that at one point he scolds his child for acting like a spoiled punk, and then begins to brood over the monster he's created.

And as for the brothers.... well, they had long raced past brooding to all out hate, to the point that they were able to fake Joseph's death and sell him into slavery using the symbol of his father's preferential love. The same coat, a gift of unmerited grace, now torn and covered in blood, ends up sealing Joseph's fate.

And what a fate it is.

Of course if went to VBS or saw Donnie Osmond do his thing, you know that in the end Joseph's dreams of his brothers bowing low before him come true, but he's a far different person when the deed is done. Joseph's place isn't handed to him on a silver platter. He becomes an exile, a slave, and prisoner first, before improbably rising to become Pharaoh's right hand man.

Throughout the Old Testament, into the New, and often throughout church history God's people, much like Joseph, basking in the Father's preferential love, have wanted to carry out His work with a "silver spoon" mentality. Often we've demanded of God not just his preference, but power, prestige, and prosperity as some sort of by-product that would "prove" his preference for us and show the world who it was messin' with. But again and again, when we've tried to take the place of honor at the banquet table, extolling how beautiful and magnificent the covering from God we've received is, and how you'd better make a place of honor for us at your life's table so you can enjoy the good life like us, we've moved further away from Jesus who always sits at the place of least honor. In our platitudes and sermons we boast about how blessed we are, and yet someone, put off by our arrogance, is already plotting how to steal our coat and leave us for dead.

Grace is free, but it ain't cheap. When that coat of many colors is draped around your shoulders, it's not done so that we can enjoy power, prestige, and prosperity. Rather it's more like being set aside so that, so that we too can have the privilege of providing protection and possibilities for other. A privilege that will come only through a sacrifice which might require us to play the "fool".

Our Master leads by example, and that example is a willingness to be broken and humiliated. To be made to look foolish by suffering a harden criminal's fate, so as to wake us up, and shake us out of the complacent acceptance of a life and world that's totally messed up. A place where the One who we're told in John's Gospel is "the Word which is spoken to create everything" is rejected by that same creation.

Jesus, through no fault of his own, uses his place of privilege, not bring to himself power, protection or prosperity, but rather through his own brokenness and humiliation, ultimately protection and possibilities for those who he loves.

I don't think it's much a conundrum to figure out why so many Christians are increasingly feeling marginalized in society, or spiritually empty. When we've become more preoccupied with looking and acting respectable... when we use our prayer time to ask God to bring us greater power, grant us special protection, and bestow great prosperity as proof of his privilege... when we've become more concerned with the outward kind of grooming that makes us look and feel good, as opposed to being groomed to follow the way of Jesus.... if we aren't looking to walk the way of holy foolishness which exposes the ridiculousness of the way our world works, we are setting ourselves up for troubling moments of great brokenness and humiliation which we will not choose.

Just ask Joseph... better to choose the way of the fool than to set yourself up to be cast upon it.

Or to phrase it another way.... maybe we ought to take these v2.0 monks seriously? As they choose a life of self-giving, community, and the belief that they are utterly dependent upon the Lord, maybe they should inspire in us a little bit of foolishness. A sense that maybe there are some dues to be paid, or that the dues which have been paid lead to more than just a life of un-threatened comfort.

We have been chosen for more than that. And our scars are more valuable, and necessary, to bring the redemptive healing love of Jesus to those who need it most.

What the possibilities for your brokenness and suffering, regardless of whether or not you brought that on yourself or was thrust upon you?

What are the limits of the impact of your sacrifice?

What is the potential for the humiliation you've suffered either as you've made mistakes, or as you've sought creatively to show the way which appears foolish, but is actually the way of the kingdom?

Each of us has been given a coat of many colors. A gift of unmerited favor and preferential love. Whether it's been torn off of you, or you've willingly given it up to put the coat fit for a prince or princess on the back of a homeless beggar, that's the place you start to realize why God made all the fuss over you in the first place. The reason you've been groomed for greatness, which is defined biblically as being used by the Lord to provide protection and possibilities for others.

Just Not Today

2011-07-19T17:47:00.005-04:00

I know Jesus turns mourning into dancing.
He who overcame death, overcomes death with us.
I know these things are true.
But today I am overcome with grief.
Today I am filled with melancholy.
Today I am not ready to fight another fight.
Someday soon I will rise up again for such a battle....
just not today.

Jack Sommerville sells insurance.
His tag line for as long as I can remember has been,
"We stand between you and loss."
Someday, our community will again make like Jack.
A challenge will be issued, and with every meal,
every dollar, every prayer
we will stand again in what will be for someone a terrible gap.
Someday soon I will rise up to lead them...
just not today.

I will once again dream dreams
some big and some small.
Dreams of safe, affordable housing for those on the margins.
Dreams of mended relationships and new beginnings.
Dreams of people, huddled together, living from God moment
to God moment.
Dreams of grace justified and sanctified.
Dreams for me, and dreams for others.
Someday soon I will once again dream....
just not today.

Today, I just need to take a breath.
Today, I just need to bow my head.
Today, I just need to gather myself.
Today, I just need to be still.
Today, I just need to write bad poetry.

Don't worry. I'll be fine.
I don't want pity or condolences.
Save that for a mother who has lost someone truly precious.

I'm counting my blessings
and am offering praise.
I'm older, wiser, and more humble.
I'm praying for those truly in need
and gearing up for whatever
"on Earth as it is in Heaven" means next
as the saints go marching in to make it so.
I want to be counted in that number, and I will...

but not today. Just not today.

Join The Phat Pastor Army

2011-05-19T16:17:00.004-04:00

For the third big year, yours truly, the Phat Pastor, rides again, or should I say "walks" again in our annual Hands for Haiti Half-Marathon/5k. Over the past three years, more than $25,000 supporting Community UMC's humanitarian efforts in Haiti. Your support has provided day-clinics in rural communities, meals and tuition for school children, medications for those in need, small micro-economic loans, and much much more.

This year, the Phat Pastor has decided to designate all the funds he raises in this year's 5k to the school lunch program at Victory Christian School in the village of Borde'. In our fifteen year relationship with Victory Christian, hundreds of kids have been educated in the basics of reading, writing, and math. All of the students use these skills every day of their lives, and many of them go on to a secondary education where they can pursue a degree or trade.

It's hard to study on an empty stomach, so the school lunch program feeds the 150 pre-school and elementary school students a minimum of twice a week (sometimes three if a good deal can be had on rice, beans, and chicken). Every day lunch is served it costs about $57 (including the cost of the cook's wages). With over $800 raised as of 4pm Thursday, May 19th, the Phat Pastor will accept your financial support as he walks so others can eat until start time (8am) of the race on Saturday, May 21st. Feel free to make a donation directly to Community UMU using their Paypal page, the link of which is at the top of this page. Or, if you hate using the internet for such things, send a check or cash to...

Community UMC
Run Phat Pastor Run
2600 Zurmehly Rd.
Lima OH 45806

and simply leave me a message on my Facebook wall that a donation is coming, or email me at

bryan@shawneeumc.com

so I can count your incoming donation toward the total raised.

Thanks again for your support.

Lights On The Highway

2011-04-30T22:36:00.003-04:00

A few years ago I took a trip to New York City to meet with some folks at our denominational mission agency headquarters to talk about Haiti. Outside of my first ride on the NYC subway and a couple decent slices of pizza in Greenwich Village, the trip turned out to be a bust. Five out of the six people who were supposed to meet with us bailed at the last minute. I never did get to talk to anyone about our denomination's work in Haiti, and to top it off, my flight out of LaGuardia was delayed due to rain.

When I had left two days earlier, my ticket said I was supposed to land in Dayton by 7pm, so instead of driving my car to airport, I decided to ride. It was June, so I knew I could get home before dark. No problems, right?

Wrong.

My flight was supposed to be direct from NYC to Dayton, but with all the changes and cancellations I ended up on a plane bound for Cincinnati. I arrived a little before 11pm, and having missed my connecting flight the airline offered me an all-expenses paid overnight experience in C Terminal. I found two other guys trying to get to Dayton, so we split the cost of a car service... about 60 bucks apiece. By the time we arrived in Dayton it was after 1am, and it was raining.

Heavily.

I uncovered my bike, put the soaking cover in one saddlebag, put my clothes in the other, put on my raincoat and water-proof gloves, and headed for home.

Have you ever ridden at night, in heavy rain, when the sky is completely dark, and you can't see a thing? I hadn't. Ever. I avoided, whenever I could both riding at night and riding in any other weather than whatever it is we call "good weather" here in Ohio. I'm what you call a "fair weather" biker or as my hard core friends like to call it, I'm a wuss.

But I'd just spent my last sixty bucks on a car ride, and I really wanted to go home, so into the night I rode.

I didn't have a visor, so my glasses were my windshield. The lines on the road were obscured from the rain and lack of available light. I couldn't see squat.

Soon I was passed by a semi going about sixty. I settled in a fair distance behind him, and just followed his tail lights as far as I could, until he pulled over for the night. The rest of the evening I either lived off the head lights of vehicles coming up behind me, or followed tail lights of those ahead of me so I could stay on the road. I just followed the lights on the highway, until finally, very late at night, or very early in the morning, I saw the unmistakable glow of the refinery, the lights and flame lighting up the rain in sky.

It was a beautiful sight, all that orange light. I meant that home wasn't that far away. Lights on the highway, guiding me home, to a city shining in the middle of night.

You probably don't think of Lima, Ohio that way do you? Well, I can tell you, soaking wet in cold rain, that's exactly how I felt.

Jesus described himself as the light of the world. He does this many different times, but the one I like the most happens after an unusual occurrence in the courtyard of the Temple of Jerusalem. It's described to us in the 8th chapter of John.

Jesus prays alone that morning to start the day on the Mount of Olives, the same Mount of Olives where he will descend into Jerusalem in Palm Sunday to the cheers of "Hosanna", and the same Mount of Olives were there is a garden called, "Gethsemane", which is a word that means "olive press", where he would sweat blood the night before he died, begging his Father for another way to save the world from sin and death. He prays on the Mount of Olives, and then descends into the city, through the Temple Gate into the Temple where he begins to teach.

Soon, though, the Temple priests and authorities, into the middle of the Court of the Gentiles, drag a woman accused of adultery. And in that moment, these learned scholars who were tired of getting their butt handed to them again and again by a carpenter's son, decide to use the occasion to see if this time they could get him say something either stupid, wrong, or so offensive that the crowds who loved Jesus - the least, the last, and the lost - would quit following him around and maybe even turn on him so they could arrest him without incident or riot.

"Moses", said the religious super-preachers of the day, "commanded us to stone an adulterer to death. What you think Jesus? What do you think we should do?"

In the year where we pay special homage to lady bikers, I think it's appropriate to use this scripture this day. In a world where women had no say, no power, and no standing, Jesus looks past what is, to what should be. He befriends women. Champions them. Empowers them. In a world where a husband can leave his wife with absolutely nothing and no repercussions, Jesus holds those men accountable for their actions. There are no second-class citizens in Jesus eyes... not lady-bikers, not 1%ers, not weekend biker warriors, or even wusses on Kawasakis.....

Those who appear the furthest away from God, are loved by Him the most. Don't hear that much any more, any where do you.

But it's true. And so Jesus kneels down, thinking about his answer, and begins doodling in the dirt with his finger, not saying anything. The priests wouldn't leave him alone, but there he knelt, just doodling. And then, slowly, he got up. In the Greek it tells us that he moves toward the center of court, next to the woman who is all but doomed, and utters those powerful words.

"He who is without sin, may cast the first stone."

After everyone, dumbfounded, drops their stones, he turns to the woman, tells her that if no one else condemned her, neither did he, and told her to go and live a better, new, life.

And that's when he does it... he looks at the crowd and says, "I am the light of the world; those who follow me will not walk in darkness, but will have Light in life."

"I am the light of world; those who follow me will not ride in darkness, but will have Light in life."

You know, all this crazy worship service is a little light. Just a dim taillight on the highway of life chasing after the ultimate Ride Captian to let you know you are either on the right track, or if you have been riding in the darkness, that there's someone safely ahead of you that you can follow until that day you see the glowing light of Home.

I don't know, maybe in the story you identify with the Pharisee. I know they're out there. I get complaints every year. Too much rock music. Too much fun. Not enough Jesus. Not enough about salvation. I baptized a little baby this morning. You can bet I'll get a letter or two about it. About how baptism is for believing adults and teens only. If you're out there thinking this, that's fine. Come see me later. We can have a little discussion about what the Greek word "Oikos" and how its how it's used in the the sixteenth chapter of Acts. I'd be happy to have that conversation with you.

But I wish we wouldn't. Because there's a whole world out there filled with condemned people, people who don't know any better and just follow the crowd picking up their rocks to throw, and confused people standing by not knowing exactly what to do. You can rile up the crowd if you want, but remember... Jesus is just doodling in the dirt right now, and he's the light in those people's darkness.

For your darkness.

This little worship service and the short prayer I'll say for so many of you when you pass me by later - "May this bike, and all who ride upon it, be blessed by the Living God" - is all geared to just let you know that if you came looking, hoping, wondering, whether or not Jesus Christ really does teach us what's important about life. How to live. How to love. How to forgive. How to be forgiven. How on that Friday he took your nails, your crown, and your cross, so that on Easter morning you wouldn't just be gifted with life after death, but life in a world filled with death, well then you have come to the right place because that's what this service is... a light on the highway, guiding you home.

You are loved exactly as you are, infinitely, without hesitation and measure.... and yet, you are promised so much more than what you have. You are meant for greater adventures that you don't need to necessarily go seek out on some highway somewhere. Follow Jesus, and if you do it right, you'll find yourself looking in your rear view mirror, in the darkness and the rain, and there will be a headlight.... following you.

I started visiting this guy in the hospital. Every year he comes to the blessing. He's very, very sick. We don't ever use the words "going to die" around here because only God knows how many days each of us gets, but let's just say he knows he's most likely more days behind him, than in front of him.

I sat and we talked about it. He's got little kids. Lives filled with lessons that need to be taught that he's not sure he'll be around to teach. But there's one lesson, not really the one the you want to be assigned, but an important lesson none-the-less he decided to take on. He decided to tell his kids the truth about his disease and most likely what that disease will result in.

And then he did the most remarkable thing. I mean, he isn't a saint or a perfect guy or anything. Ask him or his buddies and they'll tell you he's far from it. But he did this remarkable thing. He tells his kids the truth about what's coming, and then he tells them this.... that he loves them.

You see he doesn't want them to wonder. He doesn't want them to ask "what if". He doesn't want to leave it unsaid. He wants them to know. To know that he loves them, that he's found peace with Jesus, and that the love Jesus has for him and for them, can't be defeated by death.

A light on the highway for those kids. A light on the highway for all of us in that room. A light on the highway for all of us here.

You might be in a place where you feel like Jesus is doodling in the dirt as the fate of your future hangs in the balance. Or maybe you were following someone you thought was taking you home, but just took you for a ride. But in terms of what God wants for you, and what others need from you, Jesus is the light. The light emanating from a beautiful place you call home. A light that seen in a thousand little lights, all on the highway, following the one plowing through the darkness on his divine Kawasaki.

Jesus is the light. If no one else has condemned you, neither has he. Now go and live a better, good, loving, disciple-making life.

Lost in Middle America (and What Happened Next) Part 4

2011-04-23T20:45:00.002-04:00

Lost in Middle America (and What Happened Next) Part 3

2011-04-23T20:45:00.001-04:00

Lost in Middle America (and What Happened Next) Part 2

2011-04-23T20:45:00.000-04:00

Lost in Middle America (and What Happened Next) Part 1

2011-04-23T20:44:00.000-04:00

Believing Without Seeing

2011-04-22T12:54:00.004-04:00

I have a confession. It's tough to admit and I'm not sure how coming clean this way will effect the way I'm perceived, but in this culture where people feel the need to bare even the most minute details of their life ("Going grocery shopping. Hope they'll take these expired Fruit Loops coupons.") I figure you might as well know the truth.

I'm a Facebook junkie.

It's ridiculous, I know. I mean I probably shouldn't care what color you decided to paint your bathroom, what vegetable you steamed for dinner, or anything about your latest pictures of your cat.... but I do. I check Facebook so often on my phone that I think my wife is about to stage an intervention. I check it in meetings, before and after dinner, while I'm watching TV, when I'm on the phone with someone else.

Help me. I'm a Facebook junkie.

It's not all bad though. Occasionally I stumble on something useful or thought provoking. Such was the case when to my surprise, I saw this article in the Toronto Globe written about this fair city we call home. It comes to us from a reporter, who for reasons unnamed, decides to stop here for the night on his way from someplace north of Lima, to someplace south. In the article, the reporter is surprised at the decay he finds in the city. Abandoned buildings. Empty houses. Urban blight. In Detroit, he says, he expects such things, but in towns like Lima he's surprised at the effects of our community being "crushed by the tectonic plates of the global economics" (or some such similar overwrought metaphor). And then he takes a plenty of potshots at our two-WalMart metropolis as a place where people eat at faux-Mexican restaurants only wear baseball caps, stretch pants, and camouflage. He paints us as a post-industrial apocalyptic community where drug dealers no longer hang out due to a lack of financial opportunity.

In short, in the words of the author, living in Lima is "a no-job, no-hope reality". A place Phyllis Diller, once joked, you escape from.

If you live here, or lived here, you get used to people taking potshots at your home. I mean, I don't know why the author of the article is so surprised at the condition of our town. He could find the same kind of blight in Toledo, Dayton, Hamilton, Middletown, Youngstown, Akron, Ironton, and countless other cities and towns all over Ohio. Heck, hasn't he ever heard the song "Allentown"...

Well we're living here in Allentown
Where they're closing all the factories down
Out in Bethlehem their killing time
Filling out forms. Standing in line.

Billy Joel wrote this 25 years ago. As the industrial fortunes of the country have continued to decline, discovering a depressed section of the City of Lima in 2011 is akin to going to Berlin and discovering they tore down the Wall. And while I'm sure there are more than a few people locally ready to affirm everything the Globe reporter observed, by no means is this a place where hope has jumped ship. I'd concede that from an economic standpoint, at least over the last thirty years, we've racked up more losses than wins, but that doesn't mean that Lima as a community is losing.

If that's what you see, then, well.... your eyes deceive you.

Like a lot of kids growing up in Lima, in high school I was bucking to get out of here to someplace "not boring". I went off to college, married my high school sweetheart, and after a few more years living here while working on my graduate degree, moved off looking for greener pastures.

But then a funny thing happened... after eight years away, we actually started missing Lima, Ohio and when the opportunity presented itself, we moved back.

Part of the reason for our willingness to return was that we learned something the author of the article apparently doesn't know: there's a post-apocalyptic section or two in every town and city in every town, everywhere. Columbus, for example, has become a mecca for people across the state and the country. It's a place of opportunity, where a mix of public and private sector jobs in every field imaginable are available to qualified applicants. And yet, in Columbus, while there are better bookstores, a larger mall, and more places to eat, there are still drug addicts, crime, run down buildings, empty factories, and in addition to all of that, it seems to take at least 40 minutes to get anywhere. Lima might not be Disneyworld, but what place is? I mean, Disneyworld is built on the backs of a lot of part-time laborers working for little more than minimum wage without benefits.

Where exactly is Nirvana? If you live on the beach in Hawaii, and your neighbor's kids are crying from hunger, have you found paradise?

Name me a town, and I'll point to statistics that show growing social ills. Lima once rode growth spurred by the discovery of oil. Now we know the truth about boomtowns where the future appears to be nothing but bright and rosy: their foundation is built on a bubble that eventually, as the winds of fortune blow elsewhere, burst.

And all the while the poor are shut out either way due to a lack of jobs or an affordable cost of living. Silicon Valley for example is riding a second wave right now of tech fueled growth, but if all you can afford is a house that five families have to share in a dilapidated part of town, how much better off are you really?

No. With the Globe columnist, I'll have to disagree. The quality of life in a community, any community, can't be based on what can be seen and observed. Rather, that which is important, which should be counted, when a community, or for that matter any organization, family, or individual is measured as desirable or undesirable, are characteristics that can't be seen down your nose from a car window. In fact, it can't be seen at all.

I know that sounds confusing. Some sort of preacher's hocus pocus. But it's true.

I have a friend who works for a large corporation in Detroit. For two or three years before he was re-located to a city which has become the poster child for America's industrial decline, he lived in Southern California. SoCal is a place where temperatures start in the 70's and sunshine every day. A place so filled with opportunity that even the Kardashians can become huge stars. And yet, his only regret now as a Motor City resident was that he didn't leave SoCal sooner.

"Detroit is filled with the same people we grew up with", he told me. "Hard-working, honest, decent, good people. If character counted for anything, Detroit would be one of the finest places in the world to live. All I know, is I hope we never leave."

All of this from a man who, with his wife, just adopted two young foster children left in the wake of the only dimension of the city the Globe reporter could see. It's people like my friend the father who yields pictures of his young son and daughter with great pride and enthusiasm who make Detroit, or Toledo, or even Lima a great place to live. You either get that, or you don't.

You can't see good. You can't see decent. You can't see honest. You can't measure character. You just can't. I wish the Globe columnist had recognized this. His entire column might have been different. For while certainly there is here in Lima a hunger for something better than what is, there is also an abundance of people who live hopefully, instill it in their children, and realize what someday some lucky people in post-industrial apocalyptic Shanghai will learn: what makes life worth living has nothing to do with shifting tectonic plates of economic fortune.

Everything important can't be seen. When you believe that, you'll know it's true.

That's why I think Jesus made it a point to let Thomas, who now believed death was beaten as he put his hand in Christ's side, that the greater blessing would be for those who did not see, and yet still believed in the message of the Gospel. A message filled with hope, love, grace, mercy, and a belief in a Kingdom of Heaven that couldn't be seen, but was yet still present and emerging. Jesus calls us to pursue all these things with the fervor and passion that can't come from out of a properly applied scientific method, but rather only through a faith realized so completely that a slave trader was compelled to write the words, "Amazing Grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I'm found. Was blind but now I see."

The greater blessing is for anyone, living anywhere, who doesn't trust their eyes, but rather only trusts that which can't be seen. Understand that, and the Kingdom is at the gate Lima, Ohio. It's at your gate, wherever you are.

If you keep reading the story after Luke ends, and Acts begins, you'll discover that Jesus' resurrection becomes the confirmation Peter, James, John, and the rest of disciples need to put their faith into a Kingdom that by all acceptable and normal measures, seems ridiculous. A place where the first become last and the last become first. A place where peacemakers are blessed and those who earnestly want to know and live righteously find fulfillment. A place where leaders wash the feet of their followers and assure them that what they'll accomplish will be far greater than anything the leader accomplished in his own lifetime.

A Christian's whole life is invested in what can't be seen, and a refusal to accept as true a no-hope reality.

The fact is that nobody who lives in Lima and likes it (of which there are many of us) is devoid of hope or broken beyond measure. It is possible to make a very nice living here, but if that's not possible countless volunteers, agencies, churches, and service organizations band together, striving to form a safety net to catch those who are falling between the cracks. It's a place where the soup kitchens get funded out of a sense of humility one check or dollar at a time, and where the Rescue Home keeps the "Jesus Saves" sign on with donations from people who know "there but by the grace of God, go I". Its a place where people are always dreaming and working toward something better because, while they can't see it, they know it still exists. Maybe tectonic forces crushed many of our factories, but our spirit is left intact.

I'll close with this.... last fall our community buried a great man. Dr. Gene Wright. Dr. Wright was my doctor growing up. As a kid he made me stick out my tongue and say "ah", and later as an adult, he chastised me about my weight. I was one of thousands, I suppose, who could say the same. In his life he was instrumental in not only keeping Lima healthy, but also training up generations of new doctors, improving our health care facilities (which are now our principle employers), and because he was well aware of the challenges people without health insurance faced, the founding of Allen County Health Partners, a publicly and privately funded agency that provides health care to thousands of people who currently are not insured. He was an ordinary person who did extraordinary things all because when he sat in the pew, he believed what he heard when he was told that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand. He spent his whole life making sure that on his watch, all God's children here would get to stick out their tongue and say "ah".

I serve a congregation in community filled with Dr. Wrights. They bust their hump raising millions of dollars for causes of all kinds. They donate hours upon hours of their time. They pray "thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven", and then live it out. They understand that there are variations on the joke, "First Prize: A week in Lima, Ohio. Second Prize: Two weeks in Lima, Ohio", and are still love this place they call home enough that they give back to it, willingly and passionately.

And like Dr. Wright, they are strangely compelled by their belief in things unseen. A hope not yet fully realized. A love that defies logic. And a willingness to make sacrificially an investment in the kinds of mercy and grace that make town like ours, a great place to live.

How Big Is Your Dream?

2011-03-04T15:44:00.003-05:00

We started this series asking the question, "What is the sign of Jonah?". It's a question raised in Matthew 16 when the Pharisees and Sadducees asked Jesus to do something miraculous, perform a sign, that would prove he was the Son of God, and Jesus said that only sign they needed was the sign of Jonah.

And if they didn't understand that sign, no other was necessary.

So for the last three weeks, Charlotte, Daniel and I have been unraveling the mystery of what the sign of Jonah actually is, and what it might mean to us.

To date we've picked up a lot of clues. Initially we discovered that God has a will for all of us. It might at times be pretty broad - live righteously - and at other times it might be quite specific. Like, for example, to go to Nineveh and tell its inhabitants to get their act together or face the Lord's judgment. In either case, God will use us either because we been faithful, or as a cautionary tale - as a living example of what happens when we do the opposite of what God desires for us. In either case, if you remember, God uses Jonah even in his disobedience, and the sailors on the boat sailing for Tarshish who begin the story as pagans, end the story offering sacrifices to the living God. Pharisees and Sadduccees can't imagine God using anybody except those who perfectly kept the Law. But they were wrong...

Clue #1: People moving in the wrong direction in life are still used by the Lord.

Next, Daniel helped us understand that while Jonah believed God lived in the Temple of Jerusalem, he discovered the Lord present in the belly of the fish. Remember this was the popular belief of the day. God lived in the Holy of Holies in the Temple. Only the priests could stand in God's presence, and at that only at certain times of the year. And yet, Jonah calls on God in the last place he should be present, and God shows up. And because God shows up, Jonah finds out that even smelling and looking like someone who had been in a whale for three days, that God, in his presence, would still use Jonah. Pharisees and Sadduccees couldn't imagine God being anywhere but the Holy and Holies, but they were wrong....

Clue #2: God just isn't present in the Temple, but everywhere, even in the foulest places imaginable.

Finally, last week, Charlotte talked about how sometimes the Good News sounds like bad news. But in this case, the Ninevites don't hear bad news. Even though Jonah was outsider who reeked of fish vomit, the word from the Lord was received whole-heartedly by the entire city-state. More than likely God had been preparing their hearts to hear the Good News of God's willingness to reconcile them to Him. Maybe it was because, as some scholars believed, the Ninevites worshipped sea gods, and thus could take a guy vomited out of a fish seriously. Maybe doubt had already existed in the minds of those in power that they were leading people in the wrong direction. Who knows. All we know is the word of the Lord is received by Ninevah. For them, the word is Good News. But in a world where the Pharisees and Sadduccees saw those who didn't know God as second-class citizens, as sinful lost pagans, as the enemy, that God would use an Israelite prophet to call foreigners to repentance, and to do so successfully, was bad news. It was inconceivable. It meant, really and truly, that God wanted to use his people to be a light of hope. To speak in a way that hearts who had not heard Him yet were being prepared to hear. The Pharisees and Sadduccees wanted to write the rest of the world off, but

Clue #3: The Good News doesn't always sound like Good News to us, particularly if we have to make room God's couch (or even give up our seat) to let others rest near Him.

Which brings us today. Jonah, having watched God spare Nineveh, is ticked. In his heart of heart, we find out, unequivocally, that Jonah's biggest fear is that God will forgive a nation of people he deeply hates, and hates with good reason. They have, in the past treated Israel cruelly. They've committed unimaginable crimes against the most innocent Israelites. Jonah doesn't even want to imagine that God might let these people off, let alone actually care about them.

Even love them.

The Pharisees and Sadducees hate a lot of people. They hate sinners because they believe they were blocking the day God's justice and judgment would come. They hated Samaritans because for historical reasons, they worshiped God in a different temple, and while they had Jewish blood in them, had intermarried with, of all people, Ninevites.

And they hated Romans. Man did they hate Romans. They hated them the most of all. They hated them for their cruelty. They hated them for being pagans. They hated because they made life so difficult for everybody with their corrupt, brutal form of government and taxation.

They hated them. Hated them to the degree that the idea that, like Jonah in today's scripture, the idea of being personally inconvenienced bothered them more than the death and destruction of every Roman man, woman, and child. Whole families wiped out meant less than a lack of shade for themselves on a hot, hot day.

The Pharisees and Sadducees prayed for the wrath of God to destroy their enemies, but...

Clue #4: God's mercy is extended to all, and where it's accepted, it will be released like a torrent whether or not you think the receiver is worthy.

Four clues to understand the sign of Jonah. When we add them up, what do we get?

God's desire is to be reconciled with all humanity.

So, here's the question: Are you a sign of God's desire?

That's a big question. For all their knowledge of scripture... all the energy in living a Holy life... even the work they would do for the widows and orphans.... the Pharisees and Sadducees weren't signs of God's desire.

I find this to be personally very sobering. We can hate sin and what it does to people, but we've no license to hate people themselves no matter how infuriating we might think they are. In fact, we're called to be sign posts of God's desire of reconciliation and peace. To speak in ways that hearts are already being prepared to hear. In Jonah's case, the word was straight and simple, covered in fish vomit and seaweed.

I know there are plenty of people out there who would be happy to speak a straight and simple word to people who they felt were the most vile sinners. But they'd rather speak that word on a high horse, gleaming white in the bright sunlight assured that God's smiting would smite those needed to be smoted.

The best example, bar none, that I can think of is the Phelps family in Topeka, Kansas. The folks who travel around to let you know that God's judgment on America is sealed. Do you know these folks have called you dogs? They've called you whores? They've called our church, this church, a dog kennel, and me a son of hell? A young man from our community whose grandmother, in particular, was a long-time faithful member of this church, died in action while serving in Iraq. When Christian Neff's death was announced, it didn't take 24 hours for the Westboro Baptist Church to announce their intention to picket his funeral at this church.

They said he was going to hell. That our church is a dog kennel. That you are all whores. That I am a false prophet. And not one word uttered at us, or to anyone else anywhere, is said with the hope that you or I will be redeemed. In their sick, twisted minds, all the Phelps family wants is for you and I to hate them with even greater passion. For their contempt for humanity, anyone who is not them, is so great, that they would pray that your hate would grow so that your torment in hell, forever would be greater and greater.

They have no idea what the sign of Jonah is.

For it doesn't really matter how virtuous a life you lead. If it's devoid of love and compassion for others - particularly the most unlovable of the unlovable - Paul, a Pharisee who one day woke up to discover that even though he knew Jonah's story backwards and forwards, didn't live a life that understood it's meaning, tells us that if you gave everything you had to the poor, possessed the power to make mountains jump, or even offer yourself as a martyr for the faith, if you don't love, if you don't stand as a sign post of God's desire to be reconciled with everyone, every chip you think you've earned with God, is a sham and a dream.

Listen... be principled. Be disciplined. Hold yourself to the highest standards. Believe passionately in God's righteousness and put yourself to the task of working out that righteousness out in your own life.

But don't hate. Don't scapegoat. Not anybody.

Not your that person who hurt you. Not that person who abandoned you. Not that person who is a vile pig. Nobody.

God is calling you to dream His dream... the reconciliation of his children to Himself.

Now, don't get me wrong. I get that what I'm asking you to do is virtually impossible. Everybody hates somebody, me included. African warlords who enslave children to slaughter in their name. Druglords who rule with fear and intimidation to enslave others. Adults who do unmentionable things to children.

If it were up to me, I'd say just kill 'em all, and let God sort them out. I don't care about the circumstances. I don't care about what happened to them as children or whatever it is that has turned these people into sociopaths.

But I hate to say this... God's compassion for whoever it is you've decided is the scum of humanity it not withheld. It does not yield. There is an ocean of mercy that need only to be accepted waiting to wash over every single one of these people.

And what's more, I just might be the person who needs to be the sign of God's forgiveness for the very person I hate. A sign that may, out of my unwillingness to go when called to speak the Good News in a way hearts are already being prepared to receive, might have to be delivered with a humiliated, defeated me, smelling of fish vomit and covered in seaweed.

So, let me leave you with this. Sin, I think, has left each of us just little bit challenged. Emotionally challenged. Intellectually challenged. Spiritually challenged. We have obstacles to overcome to begin embracing God's dream. Challenges to be overcome to be an effective disciple of Jesus. Challenges to be overcome so that we can effectively disciple others.

We hate somebody. We don't believe in ourselves. And we're tempted to put others down so we can stand on their bent backs to try to put us a little bit closer to God.

But even if we're imperfect, if we trust God, we can in certain moments, with certain people, being the perfect mirror, reflecting the light of love into a dark place not suitable anyone.

Are you a sign of God's desire? Will you trust Him to fashion you into beacon of hope He needs you to be?

Sanctification

2011-02-05T20:56:00.003-05:00

1 Therefore if there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation of love, if there is any fellowship of the Spirit, if any affection and compassion, 2 make my joy complete by being of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose. 3 Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves ; 4 do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. 12 So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling ; 13 for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure. 14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing ; 15 so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, 16 holding fast the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I will have reason to glory because I did not run in vain nor toil in vain. (Philippians 2:1-4, 12-16)

Almost from the very beginning the church has faced an ongoing dilemma. On one hand, it is (theoretically at least) the most inviting movement on the face of the planet. All people from everywhere with every kind of background are welcome among her ranks. Everyone is invited to come worship, study, prayer, and break bread with the body of believers. Particularly in Paul's world (the guy who wrote the scripture) this was largely unheard of in every corner of the culture. Culturally, people largely stuck to their own "kind", and only reached out to others if there was some immediate base need they had someone else could fulfill. The church was made up of rich and poor, slave and free, Jew and Gentile, male and female... compared to the world it was an unknown, wild jungle of the human spirit. When you entered the world of the church, you had to leave your labels behind, and as people gave up whatever labels they came in with, and exchanged them for "Disciple of Jesus", the church just continued to become the increasingly diverse.

But that didn't meant, even if our prince is the Prince of Peace, doesn't mean we've gotten along.

But just because you profess faith in Jesus doesn't mean that you automatically shake your influences. Putting all these different types and kinds of people might sound beautiful in an "Up With People" sort of way, but in the real world it created a lot of conflict. People who came from religious backgrounds that celebrated, for example, wild uninhibited acts of religious ecstasy in worship, generally brought that tradition with them into the church. So when they'd experience "speaking in tongues", they felt right at home. But other people from more subdued religious backgrounds related more to times of prayer and fasting, and when these two people, and many others with other spiritual affinities (some of which were downright unacceptable) all got together, it created conflict.

Lots of conflict.

That's a myth of the church, I think. We read something like Philippians 2, which calls us to be of the same mind, maintain the same love, unite in spirit, and intent on one purpose, and we tend to think of it as proscriptive. As an order, like from a doctor when we've gone to her when we're sick. But I think we miss the tone of Paul's writing as we read what he writes. Paul has learned long ago that you can't force anybody to do what you want them to do or believe what you want them to believe. His is just one voice. An important one, no doubt, but still only one in a world where even the Apostles are struggling to understand what it means to "be of one mind".

So when I read the text above, I hear in it a bit of exasperation. A frustration that comes from having too many times to quell too many disagreements among too many people who, in theory, should take "love your neighbor as yourself" much more seriously.

14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing ; 15 so that you will prove yourselves to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights in the world, 16 holding fast the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I will have reason to glory because I did not run in vain nor toil in vain.

That doesn't sound like a guy to me who is used to speaking, and seeing immediate results. He's basically asking these people to get along if for no other reason, than because they like and respect him. Like a father begging a son addicted to pain killers at an intervention to go to rehab for Dad or Mom if he can't do it for himself. That's the degree of strife and resistance to his teaching Paul encounters in the church.

The church has always been filled with tension, strife, differences, and challenges, and it still continues.

I know this first hand. I got a couple of reminders earlier today. At the beginning of this post you see a picture of our pastoral staff. You got me, in all my button-down tied glory. You have Charlotte, our site pastor at our Bath campus who is in the picture, the rose among thorns. And then you have Daniel, who all of us other pastors have nicknamed "Pastor Eye Candy".

A white guy. A white woman. A black guy. Can't say there are too many other pastoral staffs who look like ours... anywhere. I remember seeing that picture for the first time and just kind of being surprised. And the first time I saw it, I saw it in a newspaper that had been distributed to more than 90,000 people that very morning. It surprised me when I saw it.

And guess what, so was the public.

Yesterday I received two different phone calls from surprised, even angry, people who I don't know and said they don't go to our church. In fact, they made it point to tell me that they wouldn't dare attend our church. One person, a woman, lectured me for about fifteen minutes on how unbiblical we were because we had a female pastor. She knew a lot of scripture - at least a lot of scripture regarding a woman's role in the church - and let me know that I was inviting "the wrath of God" upon us.

That was the friendly phone call.

The second one I received from someone who somehow got a hold of my cell phone number, and knew how to block theirs from showing up on my screen. He had a lot to say about race and religion. He had a lot to say about me. I don't feel compelled to repeat exactly what was said. Let's just say this person isn't a fan of people who look different worshiping together.

3 Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves ; 4 do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.

Both of these other people claimed to be Christians, and I'm not sure what they would do with Philippians 2:3-4 if I had repeated it to them. More than likely, they would have blew me off.

But that what it's like in this faith of ours. We all come to the feast prepared for us by Jesus at the table with all kinds of experiences, backgrounds, beliefs and attitudes. On our way to that table, we often bump into people who are strange, and sometimes even upsetting, and often we want to just go find a place where we won't get stretched. Where we'll be more comfortable. A place where we aren't just fed, but catered to.

Jesus is no caterer. The table is set, but you still need to come forward and sit down with everyone else who has been invited. We do a good job, in this life, most of us in this family of God, sequestering ourselves so that we don't have to see, or smell, or hear others so different from ourselves. But I want to tell you... there aren't different houses of worship in Heaven. Just one, and John the Revelator told us that it was revealed to him that in the presence of God, together, there were people of all tribes, nationalities, races, and tongues. God won't let us keep our blinders on for eternity. Sooner or later, we'll have to take a good look at the other folks singing his praise next us, and realize that realize how different they are. The question is how soon God wants us to wake up to this reality.

Let me share something with you as we end five weeks of looking at ways Jesus restores us when sin, anger, pain, success, or something else steals away our identity. When Christ restores us, he's not interested in restoring us to be the us we were before whatever it was that derailed us, derailed us. His is a complete restoration. He wants to haul out all the junk. Paint every wall. Re-carpet every floor. Replace the electrical and plumbing. He's looking for a total rebirth.

Jesus restores us, only to take what our identity was away, and to give us a completely new one. And the way he does the work is through the work we're already doing, in humility, with much fear and trembling.

We call the restoration work Christ wants to do in us, sanctification. The Greek word is "Qadash" which means to "vindicate the holiness" or to "separate to make holy". Its the work we do, like to an old house that needs made over, to tear out the ugliness that marks us. Paul tells us in v.12-13 that as we do the hard work of tearing out all the ugliness, God come alongside of us in that work, and begins working through us, like a spiritual interior designer and contractor.

To make us "perfect" in his sight.

Perfect is a funny word isn't it. Life is so imperfect, perfection seems virtually unattainable. But perfection, as we understood in our Wesleyan tradition, hasn't as much been a destination (a finished home), but rather a continued journey that only is made complete when we stand fully in the presence of God. A journey of loving God more and more, and loving our neighbor increasingly with a grace greater than our sin.... more and more like Jesus loves us.

Jesus wants to steal our identity, and give us a perfect one. And the way we know we're on the right track, as we do all of this work, is by how far you can extend your love as you faithfully do God's bidding, and as far as you can outside of your little circle of family and friends. It's the movement from looking to be fed by the Jesus the Five-Star Caterer, to finding a seat at the Lord's table next to somebody who makes us very uncomfortable, or angry, or conflicted, or even deeply, deeply sorrowful.

Doesn't seem to make much sense does it. You'd think this Christian journey would be all uplifting prayer meetings, songs that take us to new heights, and preaching that would inspire the angels. Not a difficult journey made with people who could even exasperate a saint like Paul.

But that's how it works.

All of us, doing the work of tearing out the ugliness, while the Holy Spirit renews, strengthens, and makes us over. There is learning in the work, and that education is never free. But if you want to get right with God, you gotta do the work of getting right with others, otherwise you'll never learn who you are supposed to be. You've gotta run - not walk - but run to the table looking for a seat in the place of least honor, with the people who seem least worthy of being there. Even next to the woman who thinks I'm going to Hell for working proudly with a female pastor, and even next to the guy who is a prejudiced bigot. At the table you learn where they've come from, what's been done to them, what their limitations are, how imperfect things are, and yet how important it is to keep them in your prayers, in your orbit, even if they don't want to be there.

Doesn't matter if you ever change them. You can't change anybody anyway. That's the work God does, as we do the work on ourselves, with fear, trembling, and humility. What matters is what's being separated out, the wheat from the chaff, the crap from the holy, so that we might start looking for, maybe even getting a little excited about, running to the Lord's table to find a seat next to the person who isn't the dinner companion we might have, on our own, chosen.

You gotta run, not walk, but run, to the table. Sit down. That's where the feast is.

I just want to tell you, that's the kind of church I want us to be. The church who runs to the table to sit down next to the least, the last, the lost, the hurting, the difficult, and the sick. The church that looks, well, really different, because it seeks out people looking for healing, and is filled with people looking to help heal.

A family of faith being sanctified, doing the hard work of ripping out the ugliness inside, to reveal something God has done that is individually more beautiful, more perfect, and collectively more heavenly. A light, even, in the darkness of what could be the darkest moment of the soul.

It can only happen one restoration at a time. Each of us doing the hard work. All of coming to the table the Lord has prepared.

Won't you come to the table?

Dancing In The Minefields (Twenty Years Married... and counting)

2011-01-10T15:13:00.005-05:00

This morning at worship planning, while looking for some potential fodder for a future service, I stumbled on this great song by one of my personal favorites, a Christian artist by the name of Andrew Peterson.

The words kind of hit like a ton of bricks. Aimee and I actually got married when we were 21 and 19. We had been engaged for a year, and everyone told us we were too young. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Heaven knows it's been hard. Five degrees down and almost one more to go, fourteen moves, a move not made because she told me if I took the job I'd be going alone, one baby, then two, then three, and finally a fourth neither of us envisioned bringing into the world. It seems like we've always been on the precipice of financial implosion, the edge of another major decision, and the beginning of a new daunting challenge.

But we're still here.... together.

I don't know... it's kind of strange. 2010 was just about the most stressful year of my almost 42 years of existence. We spent the entire year preparing for major transitions here at work (new church name, new staff, new additional locations, new leadership structure, etc... it went on and on). We sank money into new opportunities for ministry and mission, but it resulted in General Fund beginning to fall, which became the source of chest-pains and a subsequent stress-test. The changes weren't universally lauded and celebrated, so some people decided it was time to find another church.

It was a tough year.

All the while our family situation was churning as wildly as the situation at work. The two older boys got increasingly busy with sports and activities. Elijah, who had been tested for Autism was slowly finding his way as a student in a classroom as we also took him to an Occupational Therapist to help adapt socially to others. Toby was busy being 2. Aimee took care of four boys while running her own business while I was mostly not around. Oh.... and we moved, again. Nothing like trying to sell your house in the worst housing market since the Great Depression.

And yet, somehow, God used this year to knit us closer together, Aimee and I.

Marriage is not easy. It's hard enough to figure out how to make it through life by yourself, without also having to do navigation for two. I don't know how you make a marriage work without some sort of higher purpose or calling for the endeavor. Call it whatever you want: a "divine calling" or at minimum a belief that the the little world you are creating together somehow makes the bigger one a better place for others to live.... it makes no difference. If you can't somehow keep it in focus that the reason you're together is to create a haven of blessing and peace for the world, and that begins with your own family, I just don't see it surviving. You have to fight for that haven every day. You have to sacrifice for it. Often you have see past the turbulence and chaos to realize that peace on the other side. It's tough, but peace is worth fighting for. You just have to remember to fight the external threats to that peace, and not turn on one another when its not easily realized.

Years ago, I'm guessing when we lived here in Lima long before we had kids, I remember one night we had one of the those yelling, throwing things, kind of fights. We were both in school. We had no money. We were always apart. We were still adjusting to being under the looking glass of a local church. It was tough, and on this particular evening I suppose one too many cups of displeasure were poured out, and the dam broke. The screaming finally ended with my hopping in a car, and leaving.

I drove around awhile, but finally, not really sure where I was going or what to do next, hungry, I ended up pulling into a Waffle House. I took a pad of paper and pen in with me, and while I waited for my eggs over a terrible cup of coffee, I started to write. I just poured out all my feelings. All the good. All the bad. All the "what if" regarding staying together, or getting a divorce. All of it.

After a couple of hours and I don't know how many cups of coffee, I just remember writing and writing, and as time went on asking God what He wanted me to do.

"Write out your best guess", was the reply.

And and out of what's now an old Bible Aimee gave me, I copied:

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

Love doesn't make it unless two people are committed to living it out what it takes to keep it alive, together, mutually. I thank God I have someone to keep doing that with, through better and worse, richer and poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, til death us do part.

So when I lose my way, find me
When I lose loves chains, bind me
At the end of all my faith
to the end of all my days
when I forget my name, remind me

Cause we bear the light of the son of man
So there’s nothing left to fear
So I’ll walk with you in the shadow lands
Till the shadows disappear
Cause he promised not to leave us
And his promises are true
So in the face of all this chaos baby
I can dance with you

The Christmas Basics: Peace on Earth, Goodwill Toward All

2010-12-23T17:11:00.009-05:00

We have a little problem in the Bucher house: Elijah, our five year old, has discovered Santa Clause.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those Santa bashers. People who are down on Santa Clause don't know the story of the fat man's origin. St. Nicholas was a fourth century Greek Orthodox bishop who was considered a great friend of the poor. His willingness to give what he had to those in need contributed to his legend, which continued to be, and still is, celebrated in church history. The fact that St. Nick is now associated with materialism isn't his fault. Chalk that up to Madison Avenue working for businesses whose fiscal years are broken or made in the final six weeks from Thanksgiving to New Years. The basic idea of celebrating generosity, particularly to those in spirit and/or material need, should be a part of the season, and taught to our children. St. Nicholas, or Santa Clause, is a good way to convey that message.

So it's not the idea of Santa that bothers me. It's just that Eli, who never paid a whit of attention to Santa Clause until this year (thanks to "The Polar Express"), thought that the reason we celebrated Christmas was because it was Santa Clause's birthday.

Now, let me say that I am relieved that my children, at least up to now, haven't been held to a higher expectation of behavior because of who their Dad is. I see this happen too often to pastor's kids, and the results haven't been pretty. Heck, my brother, who is twelve years younger, used to hear about how great I was at our home church and was asked on more than one occasion"why he couldn't be more like me", and he's just my brother. Besides, when I was a kid I was no saint. People have short memories. I could tell you some stories. I wasn't always a pastor. You can take that to the bank.

The Shawnee community hasn't laid a guilt trip on my kids because of what I do for a living, and for that I'm grateful. But, that being said, there is a ripple of dread that goes through you as a Christian minister as your own son tells all who will listen that Christmas is Santa's birthday. The curious examinations for the mark of the beast on my son's forehead are exceeded only by the disapproving glares I get from those same people who wonder what in the world the Methodist preacher has really been teaching his children.

In any event, because Eli has been a bit confused, we have taken up the Christmas story and it's true meaning with a new vigor at the Bucher house. Instead of repeatedly at bedtime reading the normal favorite Bible stories (Samson kills a lion, David killing Goliath, and any story about Elijah the prophet which is a favorite for obvious reasons) we have gone back to the story of Gabriel, Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds, a manger in Bethlehem, and scores of angels singing in the skies about God's goodwill toward all and peace on earth above a remote pasture where sheep lay napping. We just want to make sure that not only Elijah, but our two-year old Toby know whose birthday it is this Christmas morning, while reminding our older two that Xbox 360 games aren't the reason for the season.

This Christmas we've gotten back to the basics. Peace on earth. Goodwill toward all.

Now, if you ask Eli, he'll tell you whose birthday Christmas is and get it right. Of course, if I ask he still says Santa cause he know it will get a rise out of me.... which does not bode well for both of us when he becomes a teenager. But I tell you this on Christmas Eve because as we as a family have had to get back to the basics during this season of Advent, and tonight I'd like to invite you to do the same.

Some of you might think I'm too late. Your Christmas spirit was pounded out of you either at the mall, the grocery store, or if you were brave and didn't plan well, Toys R Us. In between terrible remakes of Christmas songs broadcast muzak style at your local department store and the growing frustration at not being able to figure out what gift to buy Aunt Mildred's new husband who you've never met, all that's irritating about this time of year has beat the goodwill out of you, and whatever peace you might have had went with the Christmas cookies whose dough you forgot to put sugar in. And further more, not only are you not interested in celebrating Jesus' birthday in the same spirit of St. Nicholas, but at this point you could very well be tired of getting tapped, no matter how good the cause, by the guy with the bell next to the Salvation Army kettle, the empty "Toys for Tots" boxes, and, yes, even at your church's Christmas Eve service.

That's kind of the irony, I think, of the latest attempt by the greater church to combat the materialism of this season. We've challenged people to take the money they would have spent on gifts, and contribute it to some worthy cause to try to teach people that the season isn't about money and stuff. It's a worthy undertaking, but it still puts at the heart of the season, cash, and now to some degree, guilt... neither of which, as far as I can remember, were at the heart of the original story. Good stewardship is biblical, but it's not at the heart of this message. In fact, both Mary and Joseph are extravagant with their love and resources beyond societal norms. And Jesus is supposed to free us of guilt and sin, hence the singing of the angels and the excitement of the shepherds. You don't have to buy a clear conscious by writing a check to a charity while someone else writes one to Macy's.

Shoot, I can tell you after an evening at the Dollar Store with Max and Xavier, that pagans know that it's better to give than to receive. As I overheard a father talking to some friends about how he was going to celebrate Christmas tonight (there are spirits involved, just not the Holy Spirit), I also heard him lecture his son about the true meaning of Christmas: Giving instead of receiving. Then he turned to his buddies and started talking about how selfish this generation was. No lie. If that's as far as the message of this season goes the meaning of Christmas hasn't been lost.

But that's not it. At the first Christmas, the receiving on our part was much better than anything that could be given. Better than frankincense, myrrh, or even gold.

The message of Christmas is simple: It's a time of where the message of great tidings and joy, that God has sent us a savior as a means of expressing His goodwill toward us, and the peace he desires for everyone on earth, is celebrated, and passed on. It is, in full view, a clear picture of who God is, and what God wants us to know about Him: That he favors and loves us, and desires for us, peace. Often, that gets lost this time of year, and maybe, even as you sit there, it has for you.

But, I want to tell you.... it's not too late. The true spirit of Christmas, embodied by the birth of a man who was, and is, exceedingly generous to us, can still be captured tonight, and tomorrow. And who knows, might even carry over into the new year. You just have to get back to the basics.

A woman. A man. An angel. A stable. Some shepherds. Some more angels. And, most importantly, a baby, whose birth created such great excitement in the cosmos that in all four corners was sung, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, God's peace and goodwill toward all."

Peace and goodwill toward all from a loving God, is a pretty good reason to be joyful. That's not been the predominant message in most every religious tradition throughout history. Most gods and goddesses have been painted as being largely unconcerned or even hostile toward us humans. We celebrate a God who doesn't give us diseases to punish us or because we were bad or because he lost a bet. We celebrate a God who with us, wants to make our hearts, and our world, right.

That's good news you can't wrap in a box, send via facebook in the form of a gift card, or even buy with a contribution to some local charity.

Before you leave this evening, or morning as the case would be, on tables out in the hallway and the Commons, you have available to you small pieces of paper and various pens. Pretty soon, we're going to take the next step to getting back to the basics of Christmas. We'll light candles, remembering that Jesus told us that we shouldn't hide our light under a bushel. We'll sing "Silent Night", remembering that what makes Jesus life so powerful isn't the string of supernatural miracles, but his willingness to endure the fragility of human mortality and all that has to offer, including being a newborn infant sleeping in heavenly peace. Then we'll sing "Happy Birthday to Jesus", cause we're corny midwesterners, and we'll blow out our candles even as the light kindled, or maybe re-kindled within, stays aflame.

But when you leave, ,I want to challenge you to take this "getting back to the basics of Christmas" one step further. As we celebrate God's goodwill toward us, and the peace that can be found in Jesus, I'd like to do one more thing:

Step up to those tables, and pass on that message of goodwill and peace to someone desperate to hear it.

A little over a year ago I received a phone call from a teacher from Cridersville Elementary School regarding a six year old boy who had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. We asked you to help out Jack, his mother Shannon, and his little sister, Grace, by making donations which could be used to fund the numerous trips that would have to be made by a single mother with one child receiving treatment in Columbus, and another child still here at home trying to live as normal a life as a little girl can under difficult circumstances.

Shawnee UMC, your response was overwhelming. Even after numerous gas cards, meals, car repairs, and the like, we still have funds available to help the family. So, as you leave keep your wallet in your pocket and the checkbook in your pocket. We already hit you up during the offering, and for your generosity, we give thanks. It's just that more toys or gift cards aren't going to convey most fully the message a few humble people long to hear.

You see, what was supposed to be nine months of treatment for small polyp tumors in Jack's lungs, and a large tumor in his liver, has now stretched out to thirteen months... and still no clear end in sight. The lungs, which were the subject of much treatment in the hopes they'd be clear and a liver transplant secured, are still not clear. The benefits of drugs used in the past have been exhausted, and now an experimental drug is being employed with physically demanding side effects.

She won't say it, because she's his mom. He's her only son and he's seven years old. She wants to see him play Little League, sing in the school Christmas concert, get his drivers license, take a girl to prom, make an honor roll or two, graduate from high school, and figure out what he wants to do with his life. She won't say it, because she can't, but this little boy is has been fighting a long, long time, and his options are not as numerous as they were a year ago.

I asked her what we could do. She asked us to pray.

Pray for her son. Pray for her daughter. Pray for the doctors as they figure out what do next. Pray for her, a mother, worn down by the suffering of a son. Prayer. That's what she wants.

Tonight, don't worry about money or presents. That's not what it's about. Don't worry about Christmas carols or trees. That's not at the heart of what we're celebrating here.

We're getting back to the basics: Share a message of goodwill and peace to all people, even a family facing down cancer.

Just stop by one of the tables in the hallway or commons, and write a note of encouragement to express some goodwill to Jack and his family. Or construct a simple prayer of peace for a mother who loves her son. And tomorrow, when you are doing whatever it is you are doing, remember that Christmas isn't Santa's birthday. It's the birth of peace on earth and goodwill to all, because that's how the angels told us God rolls.

Peace. Goodwill. To you and me and Jack and his family. All of us. Believe that, and I guarantee, your Christmas, and everyday, will be transformed forever. It's the heart of the message of Christmas. Let's get back to those basics.

Sowing Bountifully

2010-11-20T10:43:00.005-05:00

6 Now this I say, he who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and he who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. 7 Each one must do just as he has purposed in his heart, not grudgingly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. 8 And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that always having all sufficiency in everything, you may have an abundance for every good deed ; 9 as it is written, "HE SCATTERED ABROAD, HE GAVE TO THE POOR, HIS RIGHTEOUSNESS ENDURES FOREVER." 10 Now He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness ; 11 you will be enriched in everything for all liberality, which through us is producing thanksgiving to God. 12 For the ministry of this service is not only fully supplying the needs of the saints, but is also overflowing through many thanksgivings to God. 13 Because of the proof given by this ministry, they will glorify God for your obedience to your confession of the gospel of Christ and for the liberality of your contribution to them and to all, 14 while they also, by prayer on your behalf, yearn for you because of the surpassing grace of God in you. 15 Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift !
2 Corinthians 9:6-15

In all my years in the ministry I have been blessed and amazed many, many times, over and over. I've baptized men, women, and children who were excited about their new life in Christ. I've watched lives turn around with new spiritual grounding. I've watched young people who I worked with as a youth pastor grow up to be productive citizens who give to their communities, neighborhoods, and a congregation. I've traveled to some of the poorest communities in the world to do development work and bring encouragement with people who became life-long friends. I've laughed and cried, and along the way I've made tremendous friends while growing abundantly in understanding what the essence of righteous living truly is:

Love justice. Show mercy. Walk humbly with your God

One of the unique ways I’ve been greatly blessed and amazed throughout the years has been by people who took, and take, pride in being abundantly financially generous. On some level I think these people are supernaturally gifted by God in ways most people aren't. That’s the only way I can explain why they are so open to giving their money to ministry or mission, when for so many others the subject of money and the church is pretty touchy, or even upsetting.

Let me tell you: I know about touchy and upsetting when it comes to money and the church. As an associate pastor at another congregation, after a long year of financial struggle (and all the turmoil that came with it) we were so far behind financially we faced the prospect of needing to raise a lot money inn the last month off the year to meet the basic needs of our General Fund. For whatever reason it was decided that I would work with the finance committee, which was normally the senior pastor’s job, to figure out how to do this. We came up with a plan, shared it with the congregation, put our names on the bottom of the letter, and made ourselves available for questions over coffee.

Let's just say that after a tough year, some of the conversation was lot hotter than the coffee.

But in the course of that campaign, carrying at the time what I thought was a tremendous burden, again and again I was blessed by people who simply came in and wrote the check. No begging or pleading or convincing... they just wrote the check. And in the end, we received what we needed, and eventually things got better.

Out of that experience thirteen years ago, as I’ve spent more and more time understanding how church finances work from the inside, I’ve learned that the people who give with energy and excitement, are the ones who truly carry a church body financially. Some of these folks are people of great means, but most aren’t. Some give large sums of money, but most give, by the world’s measure, modest amounts, that are in kingdom terms, highly sacrificial. But they all give for the same reason whispered to them at some point in their life, by the Lord.

They give because they know, giving is the root of all our greatest joy.

Do you know what I want for Christmas this year? Do you know what’s on my list for Santa Clause. An ITunes gift card to buy a couple Beatles songs, and world peace. And if I don’t get that ITunes gift card, it’s no big deal. Because the only thing I’m interested in on Christmas morning, when we celebrate Jesus’ birthday with sugared cereal that normally my wife refuses to buy, is seeing smiles on my sons faces. As I get older that’s been the biggest change in my list for Santa: I just want to be able to make the day one to remember for my kids. That’s better than any copy of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

I know it to be true, and if you have kids or grandkids so do you: joy and fulfillment in life truly comes giving.

That's what this weekend's scripture is all about. It lays out the principles for "bountiful sowing".To sum up, 2 Corinthians 9:6-15, I'd say what Paul is getting at is this:

- Give cheerfully (v.7)
- Expect Righteousness To Multiply In Yourself and Others (v.8-10)
- Expect Your Life To Be Enriched (v.11)
- Expect An Overflowing Harvest (v.12)
- Give so God Will Be Glorified (V.13-15)

It's these common qualities, these attributes, in this attitude that I see people who give easily, with much expectation, hope, joy, and passion, give. They know in their heart the true value and impact a gift given to bring God glory

When they give they're not conflicted. They're not angry. They're not suspicious. They're not resentful. They're not fearful. They're life is just organized to, as John Wesley put it, "work all they can, so they can earn all they can, so they can save all they can, so they can give all they can". Giving has become vital to their own well-being, spiritually and mentally. They’ve become positively addicted to experiencing moments of true joy where God's love, though their resources, takes on hands and feet.

When you received your capital investment campaign packet about a month ago (or only a couple of weeks ago for some, no thanks to the bulk mail department of the US Postal service here in the 485- region), I know it caused some mourning and gnashing of teeth. A quarter-million dollars in addition to our ongoing obligations in a has in some corners inspired discussion more heated than the coffee. Don’t think this doesn’t get back to me. It always ultimately does. Either directly, or via the grapeline express.

But I have to be honest, what little grumbling I’ve heard has been far outweighed the stories of joy shared by those excited to give. They're excited about the ways they can bring God glory in this moment. They're impressed that our leadership isn't going to stand for the status quo, and dedicated to making this happen because they believe we aren't just another church in a world already filled with too many churches. They know what I know: that we possess a unique ministry, with a unique take on the gospel message, that people who are far, far away from God right now need to hear. A message we can offer because it has the weight of just not talking the talk, but, on a Sunday when we were giving away our offering, walking the walk.... and now they want to walk further.

First through their prayers, then through their wallet and checkbook, and ultimately through actions, they are making the commitment, sacrificially to send a message. A message about God. A message about Jesus. A message about their church. A message about what's really important in this life to them right now.

A message of joy, because they feel joyful that we have faith over fear. Love over anger. Belief over doubt. Hope over despair. Dancing instead of mourning.
I invite you to join them. To be one of them. To pledge this day standing squarely on the Word of God, by not just giving, but giving cheerfully, with the expectation that with your gift righteousness will multiply in yourself and others, and in the course of giving you will be enriched, the harvest will overflow, and ultimately God will be glorified.

Let me just share one last thought.

I really believe the changes we're making, and calculated risks we're taking, are God's will for this congregation. Not out of some sense of overly-inflated ego where I think everything I want is what God wants. On the contrary... to quote many others, there's two things I've learned as United Methodist pastor over the last twenty years: There is definitely a God, and I ain't Him.

I'm excited about the full vision for a church. Not just building repairs and renovation, but on our new focus and emphasis on discipleship, a new way of looking at where a church should be located, a new zeal to communicate the Gospel to new generations of believers so this place will ultimately not just survive as most church are doing now, but thrive, long after we’re dead and gone. I’m excited because this vision came out of months and months of prayer, listening, deliberation (sometimes more heated than the coffee), and confirmation from a core group of leaders, lay and clergy, who actually stretched this vision to be much bigger than I could imagine.

And I mean that…. I believe in this vision, because I alone couldn’t see it. I thought asking for a great sum of money for a satellite campus concept that people are having a hard time understanding was ambitious enough. Imagine my surprise when after touring our building the Joshua team wanted to add $100,000 for work here.

They could have ditched the satellite concept to just focus on us, but they didn't.
They could have said, "these things can wait" but they felt they couldn't.

They could have listened to a reluctant pastor who wondered what people would say, or mumble, or abandon with such a request.

But they didn’t. And so, the campaign goal grew. And the reason it grew was cause it was a child who lead us.

At the very last meeting of the Joshua Team, where this campaign was the last topic regarding our church’s future we needed to cover, one of the team members, before we made a final decision, gave me an envelope. It was from his 11 year old daughter, who the week previously, sat quietly in the room seemingly reading a book, while we heatedly discussed how big our vision should be. I opened up the envelope… this envelope, and inside of it was seventeen dollars, and this note:

You should have seen the smile on her Dad's face when he handed me this envelope. You should have seen the smile on the faces of all the Joshua Team members as I read this note aloud. And you should have seen the smile on that little girl's face when later that week I thanked her for her gift, and told her how I proud I was of her.

This campaign was sealed with a smile. And let me tell you what my friends with the spiritual gift of giving know. It’s only when you give cheerfully, with an expectation that your gift righteousness will multiply in yourself and others, with an expectation you will be enriched, the knowledge that the harvest will overflow, and that ultimately God will be glorified, it’s only then that you will know true joy.

This is s the message we want to take root in Abby's heart, and the hearts of all our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. It’s a message we want to send to the community. It’s a message we want to send to our Lord and God

Giving to you is the root of our joy. Take this gift, sealed with our smile.

Transition Plan (The Book) - Q. How Did You Get Involved In A Project With Bob Russell

2010-08-23T21:15:00.004-04:00

If you've come to this blog via my Amazon author's page (or from wherever else you stumbled in here), welcome. Let me tell you just a little bit more about my role in the new book, "Transition Plan", which I wrote with Bob Russell, retired Senior Pastor at Southeast Christian Church (Louisville)

For those who don't know, I am still a doctoral student at Asbury Seminary, finishing up my dissertation, the topic of which is "Planned Pastoral Succession". What I did was research numerous different "successful" (based on some criteria regarding attendance, giving, and whatnot, pre and post leadership transition) transitions from senior pastor to successor pastor. I found these churches using organizations like Leadership Network, various church consultants like Lyle Schaller, word of mouth between United Methodist bishops, and scouring the internet for articles on the subject. Then I traveled to each one armed with a research method called the "Multiple Comparative Case Study" which demanded that I interview the senior pastor, successor pastor, lay-leaders, staff persons, and (if necessary) any denominational big wigs involved in the process. The idea of the case study was to establish commonalities and discrepancies between the various succession experiences to see if anything learned across the experiences could be passed on.

In the end, I established I had enough data from the churches involved to actually be able to establish a credible narrative and some conclusions. The churches are intentionally diverse in background, theology, geography, and make up of the congregation to find commonalities that cut across various polities, theologies, size of congregation, geography, etc... I have churches from the Northeast, South, three from the Southwest/Southern California, and the Midwest. Denominations included are United Methodist, Episcopalian, Southern Baptist, UCC, Christian Missionary Alliance, the Independent Christian Church movement, Anglican, and Congregationalist/Non-Denominational background.

Theologically the churches run from the very theologically/socially conservative (almost literal fundamentalism) to the very progressive (one being on the forefront of what would be called "liberal" causes out on the west coast). Some were racially diverse, and one historically black. The smallest church worshiped 350 weekly, and the largest worshiped over 14,000. I'm still finishing the dissertation, but the conclusions from the data for the purpose of the book and the rough draft of my final chapter have been established. Anybody crazy enough to want to do so could research more churches and test the conclusions could follow protocol and test my conclusion. God bless the poor sucker who chooses to do so. But the point of doing things this way was that I was trying to examine "best practices" in regards to leadership transitioning. Theology, cultural make-up, socio-economic data, size of church, denominational background, etc.... doesn't make any difference my friends. I went into this suspecting that "best practices" are determined by what you do or don't do.... and four years later I believe this research proved that assumption to be true.

Anyhow, one of the churches selected for the study was Southeast Christian Church in Louisville. Of all the churches surveyed, SCC was by far the most prominent and largest. Because it now worships over 20,000 weekly, Bob Russell, who came to the church when it worshiped 120, has become somewhat of a "rock star" in the mega-church pastor world, particularly amongst pastors in the Independent Christian Church movement. Because Bob's success has propelled him to a kind of "fame" (not "fame" in the sense that most, or even a fraction of Americans know who he is, but "fame" in the sense that a lot of practitioners and scholars in the church world know his story) most pastors don't achieve he's been interviewed repeatedly about the transition in various magazines and other publications.

You see, church senior leadership transitions are a big deal. When Jack Welch left General Electric, for example, nobody the day after it happened walked into a WalMart and wondered about the quality of the GE light bulb or hair dryer they were buying. If poor business practices or judgments come out of a transition from one corporate CEO to another, it'll take awhile for the ramifications of that to shake down to the light bulb aisle. But in most churches, when a pastor leaves and is replaced, the results are felt immediately. Congregants and staff have to adapt to a new preaching, teaching, and leadership style. And typically, the longer the pastorate, the greater potential for fallout. Attendance and giving can drop precipitously as a church deals with a change in the preaching style, leadership, theological emphasis, and personality of the lead pastor. As a result, the stories of transitions gone bad in local churches are numerous and plenty.

With the growth of the megachurch (churches defined as worshiping more than 2k people per on the average per week), the stakes of leadership transitioning have only escalated. While the weight and breadth of these larger organizations can carry a poorly executed transitions longer than in smaller churches, the ramifications long term are much greater. The primary example right now of what can happen right now is probably the Crystal Cathedral in Costa Mesa, California, which rose to prominence under its founder and leader, Robert Schuller, and has been in the news for the all the wrong reasons thanks to a transition to his son that's fallen apart. Now the church, which is being led by Schuller's daughter, is facing the real possibility of bankruptcy. This is just the latest example of many high-profile church-transitions-gone-sour in the news that keep megachurch pastors, their leadership boards, and staff people awake at night.

Bob's transition (and quite frankly most of the ones I ended up studying) which was modeled largely on both biblical and corporate models, to what was then an in-house associate pastor, Dave Stone, has become a model that's becoming popular with churches. As a result of theirs and others (smaller church pastors, CEO's, college trustees staring down a presidential transitions, etc....) Bob has been asked repeatedly to speak and or give interviews on the topic. As I was looking for positive examples to include in my work I stumbled on an interview he gave to a church trade magazine on the topic. Given that the transition took place in one of the highest profile, and earliest example of a mega church, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out I needed Southeast Christian in my study.

But wanting Southeast Christian Church's cooperation and getting it was two different matters. Let me just say this now that I'm done with the research portion of this work... the bigger the church the more difficult it is to get past the wall created to protect primarily the current senior pastor. I mean, it makes sense. Shawnee UMC only has about 900 members and the demands on my time are pretty heavy. Multiply that by two, or ten, or twenty, or more and if you're a pastor you get a sense of the pressure these folks are under. Their offices are set up to protect their time so that only that they are obligated to only that which is essential.

It was because SCC was so large and the wall to access so high that it took almost two years to finally nail down the necessary people to do my on-site observations and interviews. And even at that I still ended up interviewing Dave Stone two weeks after my visit on the phone because his schedule is packed. It was nuts.

Anyhow, while I was in Louisville, word of what I was doing must have leaked throughout the office, and a young ambitious member of the staff, Nevan Hooker, heard what I was doing. I have no idea how he got my number, but by the end of my first day of work he called asked if we could do dinner or breakfast. Seems that he had a small publishing company, Ministers Label, and he believed that a book by Bob Russell regarding his pastoral transition would be worth publishing. I was only in Louisville three days, and I was booked all evenings doing interviews, so he pitched me over eggs at the hotel's buffet, gave me his number, and asked me to think about it. I gave him my email, and told him not to hold his breath. A week later Nevan emailed me a proposal, and (to be honest) when I realized there was a chance to get some of the data I'd worked hard over three years to amass out into the general public, I decided to take this on.

How Nevan persuaded Bob to do this is a part of the story you'll have to ask him. I'm just glad he said "yes".

Now, more than a year after that initial meeting Nevan, "Transition Plan" is in bookstores and available for order at Amazon. As I read the final version I take pride in helping draw out of Bob's story, as well as provide some of the organizational framework and additional data that complete the work. The initial draft of my data was written over a three week period of pretty much non-stop writing last June and July where I pretty much lived either at the Imler's cottage at Grand Lake or Biggby Coffee with my notes and my laptop. I actually wrote the last word at 4am of the day we left on our family vacation (my wife threatening to delay our leaving until I was finished so I could fully engage myself with the family I had been neglecting for weeks. Bob then had my data and over the last year really put the thing together. Now after much editing we're done.

I'll talk more about my work, and direct you to our website for more of my data later, but since I'm happy to actually see the cover on the Amazon page, I'd like to thank a few people:

My wife Aimee (who put up with being alone with four boys while I traveled all over the place doing interviews, then compiling the info, and finally writing the book... all the while she built her web design business from the ground up of which I am immensely proud of her), my kids (who missed their Dad), my transcribers (Cathy Dempsey and Linda Parish who logged through hundreds of hours of recorded interviews), Shawnee UMC (who put up with my being gone, provide me with a living including expense money I used to do much of the travel... and more specifically Roger Rhodes, Arlene Joyce, and Dave and Michele Imler who as a lay-leaders have been really been supportive above and beyond specifically of this work), the Beeson Center for Biblical Preaching and Leadership at Asbury Seminary (which financed the formal part of my education and even a couple of the site visits, all the while patiently waiting for a final product), and the folks at Ministers Label.

Thank you all for giving me the opportunity to do this. I hope it proves profitable for organizations of all kinds, particularly those geared to leave this world looking more like the Kingdom of Heaven.

NEXT POST: Why businesses are practicing leadership transitions that are more biblically oriented (unknowingly, I suspect, in most cases) than churches.

A Friend Of God

2010-06-04T11:18:00.003-04:00

6 When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners. 7 Now, no one is likely to die for a good person, though someone might be willing to die for a person who is especially good. 8 But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. 9 And since we have been made right in God's sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God's judgment. 10 For since we were restored to friendship with God by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be delivered from eternal punishment by his life. 11 So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God -- all because of what our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us in making us friends of God. (Romans 5:6-11 NLT)

I believe in the power of free will. God has given us no greater gift or privilege. It's the most powerful thing God could have done as the creator of the universe... to invest us with the power to say "yes" or "no".

We learn and re-learn the frightening excitement that comes with the intoxication of experienced free will. Last night I was watching Game 1 of the NBA Finals with Eric the Buckeye. He's taking some time off in June to do some traveling, catch up on the continuing ed credits you need to keep current in his profession, and just generally relax. Since he's had time off in the middle of the day, his girls are out of town with family, and his much better-half is still putting her nose to the grindstone, he's been enjoying mostly free days where, as he described it, "I can play tennis outside in the afternoon for the first time since high school."

Which got me thinking about my happy, carefree high school days.

Contrary to whatever reputation I might have had back in the day, my high school experience wasn't filled with bad craziness. I was never one for illicit substances or pretending like I was at a party at Led Zeppelin's hotel. My time was filled more with "Ferris Bueller" kinds of experiences.

You remember Ferris. Ditched school a ninth day the last semester of his senior year because it was too nice outside to be trapped in class. For many of us growing up in the eighties, Ferris Bueller was kind of a quasi-hero. And while I never impersonated Abe Fromann, the sausage king of Chicago, I was known to ditch the occasional day of school to catch a ball game and to lip-sync in public places (not too many parades, but I do a mean rendition of "New York, New York".... just ask anyone who was at "Red Pin Night" at Moreo Lanes on various Friday nights in 1986 and 87).

Do you remember going out with your friends on a Saturday night? Do you remember loading up in the car and heading off to find some new adventure? That feeling like as long as there was gas in your tank, and you had your friends with you, just about anything could happen.... do you remember?

Well, I do. That natural high you felt came from the power of free will. A whole world in front of you with unlimited possibilities. Believe me when I tell you, God gave no greater, precious, and fragile gift.

Now, though, with more than 40 years of living under my belt, while I am staunch believer that God does not pre-destine our lives, I can safely say this... the grace of God, while offering us freedom, does seem to look out for us. That's part of the kingdom experience I think, this grace God gives us.

John Wesley, a very smart dude who founded this Christian movement (Methodism) that I'm in, speculated that before we knew how badly we needed God, God knew how badly he wanted us. As a result of this love God has for us, while He gives us freedom to make our own choices , the Lord works in ways only He can fully explain to draw us near Him. That's the idea I think Paul is trying to get at in Romans 5:

Now, no one is likely to die for a good person, though someone might be willing to die for a person who is especially good. 8 But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. 9 And since we have been made right in God's sight by the blood of Christ, he will certainly save us from God's judgment.

Prevenient Grace is the strange force of love and forgiveness working on us before we know we need to be connected and at peace with God, that God has already put the wheels in motion to help make that happen. Justifying Grace is the moment when we realize the force of love and forgiveness, washing over us and washing away all the pain, uncertainty, shame... the power of that moment may not last, but the memory of it, and our understanding of God does. Sanctifying Grace is God's love and forgiveness reshaping and remaking us. It's as if, in some strange way all of life is trying to pull us toward God on the shoulders of the mighty stream that is grace.

I guess the best way I can put it personally, is that much like Ferris, at least in this one day, lives a charmed existence leading to something much bigger than its sum parts. His buddy, Cameron, finds the strength to confront his parents as their child, and not a possession. His sister, who isn't comfortable or happy with herself, finds a peace with who she is. Even the principle, Mr. Rooney, as kind of the object of scorn as an administrator who doesn't appear as much to enjoy being an educator as he does a disciplinarian (who doesn't like kids very much), gets his come uppance. His perceived life's ambition - move children toward conformity, not education - is defeated, letting creativity and cunning win the day. It's not like everything goes right.... Ferris' sister gets multiple speeding tickets and Cameron destroys his dad's prize Porsche - but this force that somehow delivers all the characters throughout the movie, prevails over all the characters, and they find peace within it.

That force which in the end brings healing and wholeness, would be described by Wesley as "grace"

The grace or love of God, whence cometh our salvation, is FREE IN ALL, and FREE FOR ALL.... It is free in all to whom it is given. It does not depend on any power or merit in man; no, not in any degree, neither in whole, nor in part. It does not in anywise depend either on the good works or righteousness of the receiver; not on anything he has done, or anything he is. It does not depend on his endeavors. It does not depend on his good tempers, or good desires, or good purposes and intentions; for all these flow from the free grace of God; they are the streams only, not the fountain. They are the fruits of free grace, and not the root. They are not the cause, but the effects of it. (John Wesley)

Because I've used a quirky John Hughes movie geared for teens growing up in the 80's as my quasi-illustration I don't want give you the wrong impression of what I'm talking about. Grace isn't about always getting a "happy ending". Every day doesn't always end with the hero winning the day, and the bad guys getting theirs. Rather, Grace is about ultimately being reconciled with - becoming friends - with God. Finding a peace with what's happened and what will happen, and the God who is behind the creation of all things. In grace we learn who we are, what the Lord wants, and in turn at least some of the mystery between us diminishes.

10 For since we were restored to friendship with God by the death of his Son while we were still his enemies, we will certainly be delivered from eternal punishment by his life. 11 So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God -- all because of what our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us in making us friends of God.

I told you earlier that without really articulating it at the time that the model I was probably using for my teen years was Ferris Bueller. I pushed a few boundaries and investigated what "having freedom" could lead to in terms of some good times and new experiences. That led to a great amount of self-discovery, and more than a little bit of fun. But I've felt like there was a force that now I would identify as God, somehow involved in His own way throughout that experience, looking to draw me closer to Him, sometimes in the worst of experiences.

One memory, among many, stands out pretty starkly. I was probably a junior or senior in High School away at church camp at Lakeside (just as 40 or so of our Middle and High School students will be later this summer). I remember distinctly stopping back at the cottage where we were staying to change into some basketball shoes, and as I was doing my best to just get out the house and down to the courts, I saw another, younger teen girl from our church sitting quietly writing into a notebook. Probably just to be nice, because at church camps I know now you beat on such themes so the ruffians will treat one another with a modicum of respect, I said hello to the girl and probably asked how she was doing, not really interested per se, but once again, just to be polite.

"I'm writing a suicide note", came the reply.

There aren't too many words put together in the English language that will stop you dead in your tracks much faster than "I'm writing a suicide note". You have to make a decision right there how you are going to respond even at 17 years old with few, if any, tools or life experience to deal with such a situation.

To be honest, I can't remember much what was said. She did most of the talking. Her home life wasn't great. She was lonely. She struggled with how she looked and how she was or wasn't accepted by others. She was crying out for help. All I was able to do at the time was try to keep her calm, convince her that talking to someone with more on the ball might be a good idea, and stay with her until that person appeared.

Fortunately, that person did, and I left pretty shaken for some time to process on a lone bench down by the lake.

All these years later, though, I can see where God was moving and active in that moment, overcoming my fear and youth, entering into that young girl's sense of being overwhelmed with depression and darkness, and using the adult available to help lift her out of the hole she was in. It wasn't a good experience, but it lead to greater peace. In fact, maybe it led to greater peace in me than it did to anyone else as it kind of foreshadowed where my life might be heading. I'm not 100% sure about all of that but it does seem that experiences like this one, and many many others, helped push me toward God, through doubt, into a place where I could embrace some mystery in faith.

I don't know... what do you think? Looking back now, can you see the hand of God working in your own life. Through your doubt, in the midst of your sin and mistakes...... moving you toward, if not a more certain place, a place of greater acceptance and peace?

It's not as if this movement of grace makes God "lesser" or "simpler" or "smaller". Shoot, the longer I do this ministry gig it seems like the less I seem to really know. But as death moves one day closer for each of us, and we confront what's on the other side of the grave, this idea that somehow in this life we start getting a clue as to what really matters and what makes a difference is at least moving more from conceptual, to actual. In the process, God may not become less mysterious in all of His ways, but your love, appreciation, and respect for the One who seems to have not missed even one tiny detail grows.

What a gas to think the love reciprocated is so much greater.

Grace, freeing us from sin, so we can become truly a friend of God. Amen and amen.

May 18th Message from the Phat Pastor - Make that Donation for the People of Haiti

2010-05-18T15:35:00.003-04:00

Donations are running pretty slow, so here's video #1 as we head down the homestretch this year's Hands of Haiti 2 Half-Marathon/5k. Feel free to hit the donation button at your leisure.

Phat Pastor - Let's Get Those Donations Rolling! from Bryan Bucher on Vimeo.

The Phat Pastor T-minus 9 Days: Official Phat Pastor Song Announced!!!!

2010-05-13T16:07:00.003-04:00

As the day of the race nears to T-minus 9 days, I think it's time the Phat Pastor announces his official song for this year's race.

Eric the Buckeye and I like to joke about how our respective educational experiences are different even though we grew up in the same town, during the same era. EtB, being the son of a good Roman Catholic doctor attended the local catholic High School (Lima Central Catholic) while I, being the son of a good Protestant-public-school-educated civil engineer attended the large inner-city public high school (Lima Senior High School). There were lots of differences in our experience (like EtB wore nerdy uniforms to school, while I happily wore Hawaiian shirts just about every day of my senior year), but one of the biggest was music. Name any half-assed hair band or pop music sensation from the 80's and EtB knows who they are. When we travel in his car somewhere he even plays the "name the artist/band" game where he fires up a tune on his I-Pod, and everyone has to guess who did the recording. EtB can name every one-hit wonder who ever had their song played on 92ZOO. Probably had one of those ZOO bumper stickers on the Buckeyemobile he drove to school each day.

While I was not immune to Poison (which I never liked, not when they were popular and not now) or Tears for Fears (did like these guys.... too bad they only had one decent album in them), growing up in an urban public school did expose me at a young age to funk, R&B, hip hop, and rap. Some of those artists were popular in the mainstream. Others weren't. All I know was that I attached coat hangers to my stereo so I could pick up 107.7 in Dayton to hear Whoodini, LL Cool J, Parliament, Zapp, and other great music that at the time was not readily available on local radio or on MTV. So EtB plays some song by Aldo Nova and I'm clueless, but he fires a Kool and Gang or Earth, Wind and Fire or Slave (a personal favorite) tune at me, and I'm all over it.

So, this year's official tune of the Phat Pastor as he trains and runs this year's H2H4 5k race is "Victory" by Kool and the Gang. Victory not in the sense that I'll actually beat anyone in the race (heck, my associate pastor, Charlotte, has all but made it a personal vendetta to whip me that morning... she's been training like a maniac and looking great... got me a little nervous to be truthful) or even raise the cash I did last year ($3k, or $1000 per mile... that was pretty unbelievable).

I choose "Victory" because in this Christian life, defeat ultimately isn't an option. Defeat not even by death which ultimately has no power of us (not that I want to test that anytime soon, or anything, but yet I still believe). That's why while the odds in Haiti have always been long for any kind of improvement and growth over the long term, we don't give up. Eventually, recovery will come one way or another. We'd just rather be a part of the solution, however small or large that might be, of the provision of basic health care, clean water, and a decent education to Haitians who work hard every day just to survive.

Victory over hopelessness and helplessness by just giving people a chance. Chances make Champions, and Champions taste Victory, so here it is:

You can still sign up to run on May 22nd by clicking on our H4H2 link or click the donate button below to sponsor the Phat Pastor either with a flat donation, by the mile (3 total) or the kilometer (5 total). Every dollar goes to our humanitarian work conducted in an attitude of servanthood for the people of Haiti.

The Phat Pastor Rides Again!!!!

2010-05-12T14:31:00.007-04:00

I promised last fall that it would be a year before you heard from me again, The Phat Pastor, raising cash for the people of Haiti. But then they changed the date of the race to May...

SO NOW, HERE I AM AGAIN, READY TO RUMBLE IN THE 5K JUNGLE (and I promise not to bother you again until next year as May will now be our race's permanent home).

You know I just returned from a United Methodist Volunteer in Mission medical conference on Haiti and the teams heading to Port Au Prince to do the rebuilding are getting into full swing. More than 91 of them from around the country will begin traveling this summer to clear debris and begin rebuilding churches, schools, and clinics that are providing needed services to those in need in what is the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere. As a part of this ongoing rebuilding effort we will be working with the new Medical Director of the Methodist Church of Haiti, Dr. Elie Nicolas, to help establish an ongoing medical component to the ministry offered by the Methodist Church of Haiti through their local congregations and existing clinics.

This will be a HUGE challenge. Nothing in Haiti was easy before earthquake. But helping, in conjunction with other non-profits, churches, and NGO's, a framework for basic medical care IS DOABLE!!

So the Phat Pastor, who raised $3k last fall for this most important work, is at it again. May 22nd I'll be up and at 'em, ready to lumber through the 5k portion of our second annual Hands For Haiti Half-Marathon/5k which you can still sign up for (although t-shirts at this juncture are not guaranteed.... hit the link and sign up online ASAP to get the technical T). You can hit the PayPal button on this blog and make a donation (which is a great write-off in terms of your taxes... might as well send it to us as opposed Uncle Sam), all of which (minus the PayPal percentage, which is very small) goes to our humanitarian work in Haiti. Or you can mail a check to...

Shawnee United Methodist Church
c/o The Phat Pastor
2600 Zurmehly Rd.
Lima OH. 45806

Make all checks out to "Shawnee UMC" and put "Phat Pastor" in the memo.

Keep watching this blog and Facebook for additional Phat Pastor info as we near the day of the race.

Once Upon A Time Your Daddy Lived in West Virginia (a triumphant return of the blog)

2010-05-11T14:47:00.003-04:00

Not one post in all of April. How terrible is that? Well, after getting an earful from the The Great One and Uncle Fred, we'll see if we can't do a little better here and make a post more than once a month.

In any event, last week was a killer. We went from the Blessing of the Bikes, straight to New Church Start Boot Camp (Fayetteville, Arkansas), back home for less than 24 hours, and then off to Des Moines, Iowa for a jurisdictional conference on the future of work teams in Haiti. Then back very early on Sunday morning. Lots and lots of miles in the old Excursion.

Even two days later I'm still experiencing plenty of "truck lag".

So yesterday I'm killing time, trying to stay focused, when on a whim I put a name into the search engine for Facebook I hadn't thought of in many, many years: Beth Powelson. I've known Beth since I was two. When we moved to Charleston, my mother who stayed home with me started watching Beth, who was a year older, while her mother worked at an office in the city. A couple of years later we ended moving down the street from the Powelsons on Crede Drive. At one time in my life not a day would go by that I wouldn't see Beth or her parents.

That day was more than 30 years ago.

We moved from Charleston when I was 10 years old. Looking back on it now my memory of that time has mellowed, but all those years ago this was the most traumatic event I'd ever experienced. I was so small when we moved to West Virginia that I really didn't know any other home. My entire world was pretty much tied up in those mountains. But as I said, that was a long time ago. You make new friends. You sink new roots. You move on.

But I never forgot, that's why I took a chance and searched Beth's name. Imagine my surprise when I found her, married with children in suburban Columbus.

When you find someone on Facebook, often they'll give you leads to find other people who might remember. As I searched Beth's friends I started turning up other names and places I hadn't thought of in a long, long time. Marty Lewis lives in Nashville. Chris Stone sells Porsches in Virginia. Lori Sargent is married and living in Fort Wayne. Robert Stigall is apparently a huge Marshall fan (prepare to get thumped this fall by the mighty Buckeyes my friend). Sara Estep never left the Elk River Valley. Her mother still lives down the street from where we lived. Kristi Waldeck is Vice-President of her family's clothing store (Kelley's Men Shop, former employer of famous Charlestonian Jennifer Garner) I found a fan page for Shoals Elementary School (where I went through the fourth grade) and Elkland Pool.

Soon, the memories began running pretty thick.

Thinking about my own childhood throws a lot of light on the world my children are growing up in, and how differently they are raised. We worry about our kids riding their bikes down to the woods at the end of our street. I mean, we can see those woods from our front yard. You can walk to them in five minutes, and yet we still worry.

When I was Xavier's age I used to ride my bike a couple of miles down the old abandoned railroad tracks to Olins Market to buy baseball cards (which are still at my parents.... I think) or snow cones. In the summer I'd leave my house in the morning, stop back in for a quick lunch, and then come back when I heard my parents call me for dinner. All day we'd be traipsing through the creek down at Ron Miller's house, picking apples at The Arnold's house (if the dog wasn't outside), or playing hide and seek in any or all the backyards up and down our street.

Good, good days!

I remember pushing our bikes up the hill to 119 and then riding down as fast as we could without using breaks. I remember sledding down the hill behind Powelson's house on a snow day and Lee Anne making us all hot chocolate. I remember Mr. Kelley making peach ice cream for the neighborhood kids and helping Mr. Greenlee pick strawberries (some even made it into the bucket). I remember fishing in the Elk River, looking for snakes down by the riverbank, Joe Burdette letting me take turns riding his little 50cc Honda (which he named "La Baron"), and the day Kirk Waldeck's family got an air hockey table.

I remember playing in the mud. (smiling)

We worshiped at a little church, Trinity UMC, that became part of the social fabric of our family. Pretty much any love I have in ministry can be traced back to that little church. I cared about children's ministry long before I had kids thanks to the prizes we could win memorizing scripture at "Junior Church". My love of youth ministry was ignited on those Sunday nights my parents helped lead the Youth Fellowship at the church (I'd either sneak downstairs to play pool, or go play out on the rocks behind the church). My first time speaking to a congregation occurred at Trinity in a Christmas play ("There's no room here at the inn.") The kind faces I remember - Joe and Weesy, Arthur and Louise, the Hersheys, the Kryzaks (especially Danny, who was a huge Reds fan), Pam and Harry.... the list goes on and on - are the faces that helped me fall in love with the church.

I am 41 now, a husband, a parent of four boys, a son, brother, uncle, friend, pastor, community leader, and denominational mover and shaker. My days are long and life full. It's a life where it's not out of the ordinary to work forty hours in a weekend, travel to the deep south Sunday night, and then a plains state on Thursday. A life where a book is about to be published and a dissertation finally wrapped up. It's a busy, busy pressure filled life.

But if there's one thing I'd like my sons to know when they go back someday and read this blog, it's that when I was a boy I lived an ideal boy's life. A life literally filled with digging in the dirt, climbing trees, crabapple wars, catching frogs, kickball games, and long days swimming at the pool begging mom for money for the snack bar.

Thanks Beth, Sara, Robert, Kristi, Lori and everyone else who's responded with an "add" to my friend request. You helped me remember lots of great memories (playing basketball in front of Governor Rockefeller at First Pres... sneaking around Temple Beth Israel with the rabbi's son during my parent's volleyball game... endless hours playing Gin Rummy with Jason... watching all those Houston Astros who made that team in 1979 so great come up through Charleston back when the Charlies played in Watt Powell Park...) these past couple of days. Thanks for being part of the foundation of what has been a great life.

May I pass on to my sons what was given to me: A childhood to fondly remember where they remember playing in the woods, catching frogs, chucking crabapples at one another, and faces at church that help them fall in love with Jesus too. No better gift could be given.

Blessing of the Bikes 2010

2010-05-11T14:41:00.002-04:00

Here are the three Kawasaki commercials we made for this year's service. The running gag for those who don't ride is that my Kawasaki is an inferior ride to other makes (namely Harley and Honda). In any event, they got big laughs. Enjoy.

Kawasaki Commercial #1 from Bryan Bucher on Vimeo.

Kawasaki Commercial #2 from Bryan Bucher on Vimeo.

Kawasaki Commercial #3 from Bryan Bucher on Vimeo.

Glory, Glory Hallelujah.... Welcome to the Future

2010-03-29T14:49:00.005-04:00

When I moved back to Lima in 2004, I remember for about a year just trying to wrap my brain around being back "home". For those who don't know, us United Methodist ministers don't often get to end up anywhere near where we want to be, let alone the one place we pined for as we slogged our way up the ranks.

Never, at any time since I left Shawnee UMC v1.0 in 1997, did I really want to work or live anywhere else. Leaving Lima and this church pretty much tore a hole in my heart that never quite ever healed. As far as I'm concerned, while there are some pretty cool churches in this town, this was the only one that really interested me professionally. It's not perfect. We struggle sometimes to figure out where the Lord might be leading us. Sometimes people get upset and sometimes we disagree.... but warts and all somehow this church just keeps being special. It's a church that's occasionally willing to stick out its neck for the good of others and the Lord, and generally on the other side of the chaos, we stand more United and together than we did before.

Anyway, over the seven years I was off in Toledo, Bloomington, and Goshen, the desire to come back to Shawnee UMC and Lima only grew. Actually, in 2003 I started pursuing a return to Ohio and even interviewed at St. Michael of The Slaughter (or as it's known in the rest of the world, Ginghamsburg UMC). To be honest, coming out of that interview I thought I had that job in the bag, which only compounded my disappointment when six weeks later they told me they needed to take a pass but that they would, "keep my resume on file in case something else opened up".

I was crushed.

But you know, the Lord works in strange and mysterious ways. Had St. Mike bit on the hook, chances are six months later Joseph would have never called me about this opportunity and then I would have realized why St. Mike's sounded so great: it was a great church only 45 minutes from home. I guess the only thing better than being 45 minutes from where you want to be, is sitting in the office of the place of your dreams... which is where I am sitting today.

It's true. Sometimes the best answer to a prayer really is "no".

Anyhow, when I returned in 2004, not really guaranteed anything regarding the future (something Joseph reminded me of repeated, for better and for worse), when I came back I found a SUMC that wasn't romanticized like it had been in the seven years since I left. It was still great, but it's like when you were a kid and you remember the slide at the park being the highest slide in the world. Go back to that park and either the slide is gone (cause you're old) or its not what you built it up to be in your mind. It's not a million feet tall... just 8.

There was a little of that when I returned. So while it was nice to be back, I was immediately started making a list in my mind of things I thought would need to eventually change if I ever got the chance. Some things, like work environment for the staff (let's just say the environment when I left, which I loved, wasn't quite the environment I discovered when I returned... I am really proud of the progress we've made as a church in this area) I knew could be changed somewhat easily because mostly it was internal factors that controlled our results. Job descriptions, salary scales, a staff handbook, occasional meetings, outings, and a cool summer retreat have done a lot to make (not perfect, mind you, but improve) this a great place to work. But other goals that began to take shape were much more illusive and difficult to nail down because they couldn't be controlled internally. The work would have to be on the outside.... out there.... with folks who didn't know us, or maybe didn't have all that great a perception of us.

This weekend, after almost three years of work, I felt like the future I started to envision really took giant leaps forward in terms of taking shape.

First, if you haven't heard, Shawnee UMC is about to extend her footprint to the north. By this time next year we'll have a satellite campus functioning in Bath Township. This is an old dream, not a new one. It's a dream that came from a visit to the Montgomery Campus of Community Christian Church of Naperville, Illinois and then was re-ignited at St. Paul Chadwell in London when I saw something I thought could work in a setting like this one. Not to mention, the thought of starting a satellite has really blown the lid off of what we're thinking about doing here at the Mothership. "Impact Groups" (another dream), communicating in new ways (particularly visual ones), utilizing technology for teaching opportunities (how about Joseph Bishman or Julian Davies teaching a bible study from their homes for people in Shawnee).... it's forcing us to re-thing a lot of things, and that's exciting.

Second, if you weren't there last night at Lima Community Church of the Nazarene (or "The Naz" as we call it), you missed a miracle. Three years ago there were few, if any, real connections between suburban and urban churches in this community. Last night was incredible. The whole community felt comfortable enough with one another that a black gospel choir sang in a building used mainly by white suburbanites, listening to priests, preachers, and elders from every corner of this community...

and it felt, normal. Like we could do it every year.

I'm proud of the role this church has played in forging new partnerships, bring pastors to the table together, and creating common ground and the trust necessary to really tackle some terrifically difficult issues in our community. When I heard Doug Adams, long time Senior Pastor talk about how big that service was, that he'd never been part of anything like it in 25 years of living and working in the community.... when I hear Lamont Monfort marvel at the crowd gathered, and where they are gathered... when pastors like Mark Chambers, nestled safely in the suburbs, come to the table ready to reach out.... when Elder Fred Dunlap beseeches God in prayer for his help in the community cause we need it, and 1200 "Amen"....

Can't help it... makes me so happy thinking about the gathering last night I get all teary eyed. Probably why when I was listening to Brad Paisely's song today it made me cry. Got me when I heard the words, "Hey, wake up Martin Luther. Welcome to the future." Felt like after getting the call Bluelick was "in" on the merger in the afternoon, and then seeing the Senior Pastor of "The Naz" look out on the crowd in his church with what can only be described as wonder and amazement, that the future really is now.

And I sing, "Glory, Glory... Hallelujah!" Welcome to the future.

Merger With Bluelick United Methodist Church Meetings - The Day After

2010-03-15T21:59:00.009-04:00

For those who haven't heard, we have been investigating a possible merger with Bluelick United Methodist Church. If this merger is approved by both congregations (Shawnee and Bluelick), as of January 1, 2011 our name as a congregation will change to Community United Methodist Church, and we'll be one church with two sites, Shawnee and Bath. We have announced that Charlotte Hefner, our current associate pastor, will be the Site Pastor at the Bath Campus. While this plan has been discussed in various committees, because it involves a merger by the letter of the UMC Book of Discipline, the matter must be voted on and passed by both congregations in specially-called "Charge Conferences" to be held separately.

Yesterday, the merger plan in its totality was unveiled to both congregations. Bluelick got it first at 2:30pm, and then the first of three presentations was made to Shawnee last night at 7pm. The response has been interesting. I've only heard positive responses, but this evening at both SPRC and by happenstance when I ran into a group of women leaving a meeting, I received some feedback that was less than positive not about the presentation itself, but the overall plan.

Some people don't like it because they think I'm too busy as it is and wonder how much more I can take before collapsing. Others don't like it because it involves Charlotte Hefner taking a new role in our ministry as the Site Leader at the Bath Campus and people want her to stay. Others are afraid that in this economy people will balk at any unnecessary expense and still others wonder why we'd make an investment in another property while this one is still mortgaged.

Given the concerns, I think some good questions, which will be addressed at the next informational meeting Wednesday, 7pm at Bluelick UMC (so that Shawnee folks can see the building), have been raised. For those who can't make it, here are some concerns I heard, and my response to them.

Q) Bryan, you lead a growing church of more than 12oo members and friends... don't you already have enough to do?

Fair question. It's no secret that while we continue to grow, in many respects we are operating with the same size (actually slightly smaller) staff than we had just a few years ago. This has created increased stress on the staff, and admittedly, me.

But to be perfectly honest, this has been the trend for just about anybody who has been employed in an enterprise over the course of the last twenty years. Rising utilities, escalating health insurance premiums, fuel costs, administrative expenses (copier leasing and liability insurance being two examples) all continue to rise at rates faster than income. The result is lots of people working in this great nation being asked to do more with less. Churches and non-profits have not been exempt from this (hear all the pastors, directors, and staff people say "Amen").

The Staff-Parish Committee is aware of the load of my responsibilities, but they also understand the great opportunity that the Lord has placed before us. Together we're bringing in a church consultant who will help us understand where our church is at, where it can go, and what changes we'll need to make in order to stay healthy, while keeping us all sane. I trust the committee, the consultant, and my own body/mind/spirit to tell me that we're going beyond too much. None of us feels this way. Instead, we see great opportunity and a chance over the next nine months before the merger would take place (January 1, 2011) to make some needed changes that will help us as a congregation....

and keep me sane. Sanity is good.

Q) We heard Charlotte say last night at the first presentation that if she isn't deployed to the Bath Campus, she'll be leaving Shawnee UMC sometime in the next year for a new church.... what in the world is going on!?! If we voted this down, why wouldn't Charlotte just remain at Shawnee?

I know this news is a shock. Three years ago the congregation had to say goodbye to a Senior Pastor who had served here for seventeen years. Now they are being told that a beloved associate who really grew up as a staff person and then pastor in their midst is looking for a new challenge. This has been very hard for a lot of people here at Shawnee to hear.

Well, if you think its been hard on you, you have no idea how hard it's been on me.

I found out about Charlotte's desire for new kind of appointment last fall. She actually informed me - by email (ugh) - that she was giving me 12-18 months advance notice that she would be leaving Shawnee so we'd have plenty of time to plan for life after she left. She did as an extraordinary courtesy because she loves this church and would never want to hurt it. But in her heart, she believes the Lord wants to send her to a a new church where she might be able to use what she's learned to reach new people with the Gospel.

I know now why she emailed me..... she was relatively sure I'd freak out, and she was right. I pretty much lost it. Like a lot of you I wondered what the "real story" was. Did she not like working with me as her supervising pastor? Was she feeling underpaid? Was she unhappy with her office? Had somebody done or said something to hurt her?

How could she just leave us all?

For those here Sunday night what you heard from Charlotte - her eloquent words regarding why she's ready for a new chapter to begin in her professional life - you heard what my heart heard after I recovered from the initial shock. As she talked about her call I realized the hurt and pain I felt was generated by how Charlotte's leaving would effect me. My focus was me. But after a day of cooling off, I let the self get out of the way, and listen to Charlotte.

Charlotte wants to pastor her own church. She wants to give it a go. She's worked as a staff person and associate for nineteen years. She's ready for a new thing, and after seeing what other United Methodist clergy are doing out there, she's convinced she could be a greater asset to Kingdom if she could do what they are doing, because - quite frankly - she more talented than a great many of them. Given she's almost ghgsighst years old, she's afraid if she doesn't try this now, she'll never get the chance.

I get it. I spent fourteen years as an associate pastor, wondering when it would be "my turn". When you get that itch, you gotta scratch it, no matter how scary the prospects or degree of sacrifice is required

What I love about this arrangement most is that Charlotte will get the chance to do something special - a totally new challenge - without leaving the Shawnee family. She'll still be an associate. She'll still have an office here at the "Mothership" (as I've grown to calling the Shawnee location) but she'll get to preach each week. She'll get to raise up new leadership. She'll get to use all the creative things we've learned here (everything from Harvest for the Hungry to Fall Fest to Haiti Mission trips) to energize new people with the love of Jesus Christ.... all of whom will be a part of our church family!

So here's the deal.... I think God has put the right opportunity in front of us and given us the right leader. If we choose not to take advantage of these things, we miss a great opportunity and the stirring in Charlotte's heart will not be changed. Sunday night she made it clear. If this merger doesn't happen, she'll still ask for a new appointment. She's not doing it to hurt you. It's just what she believes God wants.

Q) Come on Bucher... what's the real story with Charlotte?

Sorry. Everything I've told and written is the truth. Ask her. The Spirit is moving her to a new challenge. What else can I do as her supervising pastor and friend but support her call? Hopefully we can do that and we can work together on the same church team but even if that's not possible, she would leave with my blessing, support, and prayers.

Q) So is this whole Bluelick thing just about keeping Charlotte with us?

Absolutely not. The roots of this project go back more than two years when in an informal conversation with BLUMC's pastor I heard him say that his church was really struggling to survive because it had declined to the point of worshiping less than twenty people a week. When the SPRC started investigating this last spring (at the invitation of the DS), the big question was, "This whole multi-site thing sounds cool, but who will the leader be?" As late as September 2009 I was still looking for a site pastor to serve up there. I had no idea Charlotte was thinking about a new challenge and new role in ministry. It just didn't take a genius to figure out that Charlotte - looking for a new opportunity - would be a great fit for this project we still didn't have a leader for. I mean, if we want to implant Shawnee's DNA in this location, who better embodies our theology of grace, dedication to serving the community, and willingness to take chance to make new disciples than Charlotte Hefner?

What else did God have to do... send up a flare? I got the hint. Search for leader, over.

Q) But we started this conversation talking about how heavy the load was for the pastors and staff and you're basically moving our only other preaching pastor elsewhere. Does this make sense?

Well, as it relates to Charlotte's role changing the point is mute. She knows what she wants, so regardless of how this merger thing turns out, we're facing a major staffing change.

Fortunately, I had this great mentor - a guy named Dick Lyndon - who taught me something very important about staffing. During my tenure at Goshen First we experienced a music director, two childrens directors, two administrative secretaries, and two graphic artists all turning in their resignation (actually in the case of one the artists, we... uh.... encouraged him to make a career change). And every time this happened, and all of the staff and most of the congregation wrung its hands wondering what to do, Dick would always say,

"When a staff person leaves, it's an opportunity given to you by God to improve your staff and your ministry."

I never forgot those words. Where others saw a setback, Dick always saw opportunity. Had he not, I'd never have received the chance to serve with him. In certain cases we had to take a step or two back in those hires, but ultimately in every case, whether it took one hire or two, the new person ultimately hired enabled us to do things we could never do before. Consequently, the scope and size and impact of our ministry just took off.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that Charlotte, the SPRC, core leadership, and myself see a unique opportunity here. A chance to really take this church in some new bold directions while adding a new person, or some new people to the team. Some will be paid staff and others unpaid staff, but in all cases we'll be opening up opportunities for some talented people to come take on some responsibility, and take us in new directions.

Q) Where is the money coming for all these new staff people? And I heard something about the renovation at Bluelick costing over $200k.... who is going to pay for all of this?

Good question. Really, you'll need to come to a presentation, or Charge Conference, to really see the breakdown of income and expense. We are applying for a grant from the District Trustees (of which I am one). The conference would like to help in a multitude of ways. There are some assets (namely a parsonage) that BLUMC owns that we'd put up for sale (as per our policy of not being in the parsonage business). There is a congregation already at Bluelick who would be folded into our family and are quite faithful. It's complex, but financial support is available for both the renovation and staff expenses.

But I'm not going to lie... we need to raise some money. We'll need to undertake a Capital Campaign to help not only with renovation costs at the Bath campus plant, but to do some marketing and outreach. The plan is to do it in the fall.

Q) Whoa!!!!!! You mean at a time when local unemployment is over 10% and we still owe $290,000 on our current mortgage (for the Centrum addition), you want to ask people for MORE money? Is this realistic?

There are many issues raised in this questions. Let me address them all...

- While the local economy is a great concern, regardless of what certain pundits might be saying, economies never stay down forever. While I do not discount how difficult this recession has been, and am also concerned about the future of the economy, I don't think you can under estimate the power of the free market. Eventually these things work themselves out.

And what's more, when do hurting people need the church more than in a time of great uncertainty? If the demographic and research data the Percept Group gave us is true, right now more than 14,000 people living within five miles of BLUMC don't have a church, and another 5,000 are looking for one that makes more sense for them right now.

What better time to be the church to these people arise than right now when things are tight? Jesus is right... the poor will always be us and that's no excuse to not invest in Kingdom opportunities that raise his name and make evident his glory and love (just ask the woman who poured perfume on his feet and washed them with her tears and hair).

- As for the mortgage, I think there are a lot of churches out there wishing their mortgage was less than $300k on what was a $2 million+ project, and could incorporate in their budget over $60k per year to pay it down. Last year our capital campaign funds ran out because the three year cycle was up. We went all of 2009 servicing our debt via the General Fund, and ended up with more money in the bank at the end of 2009 than we did 2008.

The point of a capital campaign for this project is that we have the chance of expanding our ministry while acquiring a property of value with no additional debt! BLUMC's plant and parsonage are mortgage free. Approximately $125,000 we don't have to raise is potentially available to us to begin renovations that will cost about $230,000. An appraiser has told us that if we do the work we say we're going to do, and it's done well, the value of the plant, currently $40 per square foot, will rise $5 to $15 (the building is 5700 square feet... you do the math).

In what business is investing $105,000 to to acquire a completely renovated and updated building and on a six acre plot worth more than $250,000-300,000 a bad business move.... even if you still have some mortgage debt? We're talking about the potential of a 300% return on an investment in a tangible asset that will be ours without taking on a dime of extra debt. When does that ever happen? That's incredible!

And as for raising $105,000.... did you know that we raised over $40k for Haiti relief in January and February and General Fund giving during that same time was up almost $10,000? If people in this church believe in something, they will support it. They have proved that so many times that my faith in them is greater than my fear of the risk.

- Finally, as to some of the costs associated with extra staff, in my conversation with the District Superintendent, he assures me that both he and the Bishop want to see this work and will stand behind us tangibly during the years it takes to get this endeavor rolling. Whether that takes the form of "New Endeavor" leadership grants, salary supplements for Charlotte when she takes the helm at the Bath Campus, a voucher to let us keep a portion of the more than $70,000 worth of apportionment we pay the conference each year, or some combination of these methods makes no difference to me. The fact is someone is going to get that money, and it might as well be us! I think we're a good bet. I believe that if you want United Methodist influence to grow there are few churches in this conference that would qualify as a better place to make that investment than us.

And what's more important is that I believe conference leadership believes the same thing. Why not work with them, take a calculated risk, and move on this?

If you love this congregation, and believe in it, do you really believe in your heart of hearts there's a better equipped UM congregation than this one to make something creative like this merger work? A congregation who's invested more than $1 million dollars in ministries to serve the poor and create opportunity in Haiti.... a congregation who's invested another million dollars over the last 15 years to help our regional food bank grow by more than 8 times during that period... a congregation who helped a local multi-cultural congregation move into a building that was considered to be nothing more than a white elephant and help it grow in influence and size in the process.... that congregation is less worthy of a conference investment than all the others in the West Ohio Conference?

The money is going to get spent. Might as well be spent by somebody dead serious on making it count.

(to be continued)

Haiti, Conan, and Other Random Thoughts

2010-01-22T16:06:00.004-05:00

- In an update to the letter to the congregation, I still have not heard any news regarding the well-being of the Haitian Methodist pastors who were with the UMCOR staff people (two of whom, Sam Dixon and Clint Rabb, both tragically died) in the now destroyed Montana Hotel. The Methodist Church of the Carribean does not have a functioning website and the United Methodist news outlets have said nothing. I'm guessing that in time we'll know what's going on, but like every else in Port Au Prince right now, the situation is chaos. Your prayers for our Haitian Methodist pastors are appreciated.

- I can't say I knew Sam Dixon all that well. While Sam was reportedly instrumental in getting Ginghamsburg (UM) Church involved in the Sudan (which has been an overwhelming success) Sam also initially worked with us to try to link Shawnee UMC with the Methodist Church of Haiti. Three years ago I flew to the GBGM/UMCOR offices in New York City to meet with Sam, other UMCOR staff people, and a key staff person from the MCofHaiti leadership team. I did this because I can remember Sam saying on the phone that lots of churches offer to help UMCOR but few turn out to be serious, and that if someone from our church showed up at this already-scheduled meeting, they'd know that we were "in".

Long story short... I showed, but UMCOR unded up short. Two of their staff people missed the meeting sick and the Haitian representative didn't show. Ended up just being me and Sam.

In any event, after that fiasco, Sam offered to share a car to LaGuardia Airport he had already arranged for himself, with me. Once there, he slipped me in the "Delta Preferred Customers" line at security, and then got me into Delta's private lounge (Sam probably had a million miles on Delta - couldn't help but think of him while watching "Up In The Air" with Aimee last weekend... good flick, by the way). We talked for about three hours while we both waited for our flights home. It was through Sam that for me the general agencies of the denomination for the first time seemed less impersonal, and actually impassioned about reaching the world for Jesus one bowl of soup and one bible verse at a time. A good guy with a big heart for the church and the poor, this ordained pastor from North Carolina will be sorely missed. RIP Sam.

- Through friends of friends on the ground a picture is beginning to emerge regarding the situation in Port Au Prince. The airport is a madhouse now controled by the United States Military. Because military and UN flights are being given priority, relief organizations, primarily medical ones, are diverting flights that can't land to the DR, and more recently to an airfield just south of town that has opened up. The port just reopened yesterday meaning now freight can be unloaded in massive quanitites, but the lack of supplies for mission organizations has made emergency medical care in PAP a nightmare.

For over a week now we've been trying to get a team of surgeons from the area into the country to absolutely no avail. While the need for docs, primarily orthopedic docs (of which we have three) is off the charts, places for them work and supplies for them to work with have been almost non-existant. Medical people in the north are now seeing those initially treated in PAP, and are not describing the quality of medical work their seeing in glowing terms. The infamous news story on CNN where a doc talks about sterlizing a tools and a patient who is about to face an amputation with vodka has become a bellweather for what medical personnel in the north are now seeing.... lots of infection from initial surgery done under difficult conditions that is resulting in the need for further surgery. Hence, I believe our docs will get in soon, its just they could very well be correcting work already done. Just another sad story in this great tragedy.

- Shawnee has been active on the ground in Haiti. A caravan of thirty buses from CAP to PAP to help move more than a thousand homeless people to help and hope was sponsored by SUMC a couple of days ago. We just sent thousands of dollars of medical supplies to our partner on the ground, Living Hope Mission, to be used by docs at the General Hospital in CapHaitian (a government owned hospital that is woefully underfunded, understaffed, and now, under supplied) and a British Methodist clinic in the south.

The church is also helping coordinate the transporting of thousands of health kits (click here if you'd like to make a kit or donate to the effort) from churches across the West Ohio Conference to our Sager-Brown Warehouse in Louisiana. A med team already scheduled to go to CAP will leave in about four weeks, and still we work to get surgical teams on the ground to work with those in need. A donation will be going to Living Water to fix wells across the country that were broken during the earthquake, and much more will be happening in the days to come. Click our church website for details.

- In non-Haiti related thoughts (which I've needed to engage in order to stay sane) I've been amazed at the zoo that has been NBC. Many of you who read this are too young to remember "New Coke" - Coca-Cola's ill-fated attempt to replace the original formula with something that tasted a lot like Pepsi - but I can't help but think this is the early 21st Century version of New Coke. NBC tried to remake network television by putting Jay Leno in prime-time, which was less a revolution and more a return to the early days of TV when variety shows ruled the day. In attempting to change the ball game however, NBC...

1) damaged the reputation of a loyal soldier and ratings winner Jay Leno, whose 10pm show can only be labeled a colossal failure.
2) destroyed their primetime lineup to the point that NBC is in danger of falling to fifth place behind Telemundo/Univision, a spanish-only channel popular among Hispanics.
3) lost a talent, Conan O'Brien, who they have been investing in for seventeen years, and lost him to the point that he's openly hostile on the air toward the network
4) created a ready-made competitor in Conan O'Brien who will surface at 11pm on Fox this September, further beating up NBC's bottom line.
5) upset all the affilitates by providing horrible lead-in numbers for the local news, which is the cash cow upon which affililiate revenue is based.

Let's just put it this way... if you messed up like this in your job, you'd be fired. No ifs, ands or buts. Just a train wreck of epic commerical proportions.

The genesis of this whole mess though is the demise of the system and culture that made the major networks. It should not be overlooked that as this whole mess at NBC unfolded, Time-Warner Cable capitulated to paying a fee to Fox to air its network programming. Cable has never had to do this before. The networks always had the necessary cash flow to meet their bottom line and turn a profit. Now, with seventy-gazillion options to watch (and still not much on worth watching), the networks are getting pummeled. I'm sure they miss the good ol days when you either when the only competition to the NBC, CBS, and ABC was the local PBS station and a UHF station that played continuous re-runs of Hogan's Heroes (you know, before we found out Bob Crane was such a sicko). Under the old system I watched Happy Days every week. Under the new one, my kids have never followed a network show... and don't really care.

Those days, my friends, are gone forever, and so the question is do the networks slowly die with the old "we're the only game in town" model that's obsolete, or risk the kind of disaster that comes from reinvention we've just witnessed from NBC?

- Speaking as a United Methodist pastor, let me say this... if the other networks follow NBC's lead in the same clumsy manner, Lord help them. Mainline denominational churches have had the same dilemna thrown at them the last twenty-five years - "stay put and die" v. "change a risk a severe beating" - and few have fared well. For every success story like a Ginghamsburg, there are hundreds of horror stories of churches now dying or pastors who got beat with sticks as they tried to re-invent individual congregations. Re-invention, particularly as it relates to people who like the ways things have always been, is a painful experience. I've three different friends in the ministry all who lead churches thought to have largely re-invented themselves successfully, who are on sabbaticals because they are exhausted. They're all still stuck fighting battles between what was, and what will be.

That's why so many of the nationally lauded churches - Willow Creek, Saddleback, Mars Hill, Life Church - are less than thirty years old. They didn't have the baggage of one-hundred years to deal with as an organization. They can still make it up as they go along on the fly because nobody's memory or feelings are getting stepped on. Why do you think right now all the emphasis in mainline denominational circles is on new church starts? You don't have to get a tounge lashing from someone who wants to know why hymns aren't being sung anymore because you never owned a hymnal.

Long story short, there won't four major networks standing in ten years. One or more will either fold or become a full-blown cable channel.

- Watched the LeBrons last night. You don't realize how important Mo Williams is until he's gone. Heal quickly good sir. There's no way the Cavs win the title without him (or without Delonte West, their talented-yet-troubled guard).

That's it. Gotta go. Have a nice weekend.

My Letter to the Shawnee United Methodist Church Regarding the Haiti Earthquake

2010-01-13T16:39:00.001-05:00

People of Shawnee

Surely by now you’ve heard about the devastating earthquake that hit Port Au Prince. While I am relieved to report that our partners in the Cap Haitian area – Living Hope Mission and Victory Christian Church - sustained no damage, and that the orphanage led by the Nungester family in Port Au Prince received only moderate damage (all the children are well and safe), the rest of the news from Port Au Prince is dire.

If you’ve ever been to Haiti, you know that in the city everything is built with concrete block, mortar, and metal rebar. These structures were not designed to withstand even a moderate earthquake. Hence, the devastation in Port Au Prince has been unthinkable. If you’ve seen the pictures or video, you know how badly the people are hurting.

On a more personal note, I have also received the terrible news that a meeting for all the clergy of the Methodist Church of Haiti was scheduled yesterday at the Montana Hotel, in Port Au Prince. While nothing has been confirmed, the Montana has reportedly collapsed. Three members of our UMCOR (United Methodist Committee on Relief) staff were present at the gathering and have still not been heard from. Literally every single pastor from our sister denomination is at risk, and no news has arrived regarding their safety. Please continue to pray for them.

Currently, a building team is scheduled to fly into Haiti on Saturday, January 23^rd. We had been planning to work in the Cap Haitian area. However given the devastation in Port Au Prince, I have made our services available to the collective ongoing relief effort of which UMCOR is a participating member. I have no definite news as to the particulars of our work or if we can be utilized at all. Given the destruction, the number of available beds for relief workers, and the immediate need for trained “search and rescue” personnel, I don’t know if our kind of help is presently needed. I can assure you, however, than in the coming year the Shawnee United Methodist Church will be committed to the rebuilding of Port Au Prince, and particularly the churches, schools, clinics, and various ministries of our sister denomination, the Methodist Church of Haiti.

Until then, here’s what you can do:

1) Pray. Pray for the people of Port Au Prince and all who love them. Pray especially for the clergy of the Methodist Church of Haiti and their safety.

2) We will take financial donations for the ongoing relief effort. These funds will either be used by our team when they are on the ground on January 23^rd, or if we aren’t able to directly participate, we will use them to fund the greater relief effort.

3) Pray for our team as we seek God’s will and direction for our effort.

God Bless,

Bryan Bucher

Senior Pastor - Shawnee UMC

Twas The Night Before Christmas v2.0

2009-12-24T17:03:00.003-05:00

Twas the night before Christmas
and all through Shawnee
there was wrapping and singing
and lit Christmas trees

As musical people
tuned up their guitars
my cell phone was useless
only sporting 2 bars

When out in the lot
there arose such a clatter
I sprang out of my office
to see what was the matter

and there big as life
next to Zurmehly Road
was Santa himself
outside our brick abode

"I haven't be able,"
he said wistfully,
"to come out for worship
on Christmas Eve.

You see I am working,
up here in this sleigh
and I'm always so busy
each year on this day.

So, I wondered," he asked,
"If it'd be quite alright
if I stopped her to worship
on this very night."

"That's cool." I told him
the original Clause.
"Here's a cup of hot coffee.
Come sit. Take a pause."

For the next twenty minutes
he regaled me with tales
of Christmas Eves past
and all their travails.

But after awhile
he just stared into space
and a look of true weariness
covered his face.

"It wasn't always like this",
the bearded man said.
"It became so commercial
that it's spinning my head.

I remember the days
when a small piece of fruit
was widely considered
a great piece of loot.

Now my sleigh is so big
so plum full of stuff
and I'm always left thinking
it is never enough."

There's nothing quite like
sad St. Nick on the eve
of the morning where children
will squeal out with glee.

But was such was my lot
on this rare holiday.
So I pondered just what
on earth I would say.

Then it suddenly hit me
like a full ton of bricks.
I knew how to counsel
a glum old St. Nick.

"You know there's only one reason
to put yourself through this mess.
To spend your night visiting
every earthly address.

It began with a woman,
a man and a star.
Shepherds and angels
and wise men from far.

A small, warm safe manger
and a baby so small,
whose birth was a gift
of goodwill to all."

He just nodded his head.
He had little to say.
And a smile on his face,
as he looked far away.

We've all got a part
none too small or too odd
to make real in this world
the Kingdom of God.

A Kingdom where all
know a heavenly peace.
Where fighting and hunger
and warring all cease.

You might call me a dreamer
or a bat-crazy loon
to believe this world here
will improve anytime soon.

But all that I know
on that lone Christmas Eve
was Santa stood up
and brushed off his sleeve.

Then he gave me a wink
and climbed on his sleigh
giddyapped all those reindeer
and went up, up, away.

Don't feel alone
if sometimes you feel
like the whole thing is pointless
just a cog in a wheel.

It's normal I think
to feel in over your head.
To want to pull up the covers
and hide in your bed.

Just remember tonight
that he's flying again
doing his little part
to put the world on the mend.

So, in closing let's do
what the Good Lord wants done.
Take a message of love
to every daughter and son.

And if you get weary
just remember this day
'bout the babe in the manger
laying lo in the hay.

On earth, peace and goodwill
from the Lord to us all.
May it always be true
for the big and the small.

Merry Christmas!

Hi. Remember me?

2009-12-16T14:58:00.004-05:00

Brother Esq recently rattled my cage about this blog so I decided to go back and see how long its been since I've posted anything.

September ?!? Gads!!!

Doesn't mean I haven't written anything (there are many partially completed quasi-sermon outlines and manuscripts) but I just didn't feel, for whatever reason, to post what had been written. In any event, it's been a while. Here are some updates, random thoughts, and whatever else comes up.

- Right off the bat the reason I haven't done much posting (besides being so busy my head has been spinning) is really related to the end of my dissertation, which has still not been completed. I think in my mind every time I started to write on this blog, I though, "If you are going to write, might as well be dissertation writing." Only problem is, the two kinds of writing aren't remotely similar. In this forum, I just spout off a bunch of random, off-the-top-of-my-head stuff. Most of it isn't all that helpful, or well-thought out, hence so many more non-posts than posts over the four years or so this thing has been going.

Dissertation writing is tedious. You have to comb through hours of transcribed interviews (which is really, really boring), make notes about quote and figures, and then compile them into something that makes sense. I know it's not supposed to be fun but still.... with a million other things that need to be done, getting focused on doing the Dr. stuff is tough. Top that off with getting violently ill during the ten days you carved out to finish it up, and you get 40 percent of what you wanted to accomplish done... and not a lot of incentive to pick it back up.

I have neither done the writing I enjoy and don't enjoy (sigh), and I ended up in this pickle largely because I wrote a book on the same topic of the dissertation that the publisher who talked me into the project said HAD TO BE DONE last summer. Well, that's a great segway to...

- "So, is that book published yet?" Well..... no. And I can't really expand on things much more than that. Suffice to say, if and when the portion of the manuscript I wrote ever comes to light, I'll have more than enough fodder for a great blog post. Until then, you'll just have to wait.

- Been an incredible holiday season as it relates to need in the community. With this sort of thing I don't know if things are actually worse economically now than in the past, if people have discovered we rarely say "no" to requests for aid (particularly at Christmas), or some sort of combination of the two. Doesn't matter. We don't mind helping folks out, but the sheer number of requests this year is pretty incredible. Right now more than 100 children in the community will receive gifts and clothing from the congregation and I expect that number to grow. The amazing part is that I still haven't exhausted the volunteers willing to do the shopping and foot the bill. Pretty humbling.

- So a quarter (or so) of the NBA season is gone, and what do we know? The Lakers are heads and tails better than everyone else. The Celtics are better than last year, but Kevin Garnett's days of pogo sticking around the court are over. The Houston Rockets are proving that team work both on D and O still mean something.

And as for the Cavs.... well, it's tough to say.

As a suspected, the signings of Anthony Parker and Jamario Moon were good moves on the part of Danny Ferry. Parker, while still not fully comfortable in the offense, is slowly working his way in while Moon is the kind of defender the Cavs missed against the Magic in last year's playoffs. Shaq's signing, well, is just as underwhelming now as it was then. Mo isn't having quite the year he had last year but part of that is the new faces getting worked into the mix. Varejao is still the energy guy and Big Z is slowly winding down toward the end of his contract but still effective. Hickson looks solid off the bench. Booby Gibson should have been traded about ten different times (for Stephen Jackson at least once) but leads the team in "artistic haircuts". LeBron is still LeBron, which means he's still largely carrying the team.

Nope, the big question mark for the Cavs is Delonte West. Who'd have thunk a guy they traded for as a temporary solution as a point guard would have become so critical to their chances. He's the best defender (not named LeBron) on the team. He can create his own shot off the dribble. He helps immensely with moving the ball around because he passes so well.

And yet, the guy is obviously not well. Weapons charges. Domestic abuse charges. Riding his motorcycle at over 110 mph. Bouncing off and on the active list without rhyme or reason. You can see his teammates really dig him. Without the mental issues they are loosest team in the league, enjoying one another's company and learning how to play well together. But DWest isn't well and it is the major issue hanging over that club. They're worried about the guy. If they cut Delonte loose to remove the distraction, I think it messes the team up. But if they keep him around everyone is just waiting for the other shoe to drop? Very difficult situation and one that will largely play out outside the public eye, but will define the season.

- Since we last posted there have been big changes for Brother Esq. After a couple of years in a firm with his in-laws, BrotherEsq signed on with Balyeat, Balyeat, Daily, Leahy, and Miller here in Lima. Now he's learning the ropes, hustling new business, and integrating himself into the Lima law scene. He and Melissa are expecting their second child, and we just found out they broke the Bucher Curse.... there's actually going to be a girl born into the family. We're delighted. Not only do we get to buy pink but I get to make jokes like "Are you saving up the wedding now?", "Isn't it tradition the father buys the first training bra?", and "Only fifteen or sixteen years til she dates someone like her father." It's like the best Christmas gift I ever received. In any event, they'll be moving down to Beantown sometime after the baby is born this spring. We can't wait.

- The wife has been losing weight via participation in the PRISM Ministry here at church. At first she was a little miserable to live with as she counted calories, but with the loss of weight have come little milestones that have made her happy. The latest? She can no longer shop at JC Penneys because she's now a "four tall", and they don't carry "four tall". Now she has to go out of town or buy stuff online (with her new Neiman Marcus card... WHAT?). Kudos to her. Maybe I'll join her in the new year (although right now she says I'm writing this just so y'all will leave me alone.... can you feel the love?)

- Speaking of the wife, right after I informed her that I'd be flying to LA to go see the Rose Bowl (with Eric the Buckeye, Principle Cox, Keyboard Larry, Rempe, and Dad), she informed me that she was taking a week-off by herself sometime in April. After all the travel for the dissertation, and a couple of side trips to LA for football games, seems like she's ready to cash in the accumulated chips and get out of dodge. She deserves it, however, if during a week in April you see a man and four boys at your door around dinner time, please don't turn them away.

And if you see some hot chick on a beach somewhere south, remind her we have a 20th Anniversary to celebrate this August and to do so, she has to come home first. Admittedly, this might not make much difference, but do it it anyway.

- It's been a great year at SUMC. Lots of growth (spiritual and numerical). Road races for charity, Fall Fest, Blessing of the Bikes, a great partnership with The Future Church, a fledgling ministry to area prostitutes, a fantastic Koinania Bible Study, 300 pairs of shoes for area school children, about 1.8 million pounds of food for hungry people, all kinds of cool stuff for people of all ages, the largest single financial gift made in church history...... it's been a great ride!

But as good as 2009 has been, 2010 has the possibility to be not only the most important, but community-altering year this church has ever seen. It will also be a year filled with change... some of it dramatic. It could make us, or break us, or at least make or break the current Senior Pastor's leadership. Never before have I entertained as a leader taking the degree and amount of risk I'll be taking this year.

Bring it on.

In any event, if you are in the Lima area on Christmas Eve, come join us for worship. There's a Kid-oriented service at 6:30pm, a Contemporary Candlelight service at 8:30pm, and a Traditional Candlelight service at 11pm. No strings attached, just come on out and worship with us. I'd love to see you.

And, on that note, I leave you with what is becoming my favorite Christmas song.

May there be this Christmas, peace on Earth, goodwill toward all.

Your Biggest Fan In "The Great Cloud of Witnesses"

2009-09-28T16:22:00.006-04:00

(I'll be giving a homily at tomorrow evening's funeral service for Andia Shisler. Here's the gist of what I hope to convey to those who love her.)

Hebrews 12:1-3: 1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. 2 Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Let me first say that on behalf of her family, I want to express deep appreciation for all you for coming out to celebrate Andia's life (or in the case of this blog, chose to take the time to read the first run at tomorrow's homily). I know that coming here wasn't easy. It never is when someone so young loses their life. I know, though, that your presence is a huge lift for Andia's parents, brother, extended family, and close friends. They will never forget the gift you gave of your time and presence, so, once again, thank you.

In all honesty, I didn't know Andia all that well. I'm guessing the first time I ever met her was in the course of planning her grandfather's funeral. I'm sure she relayed a story or two about visiting her grandparents when they lived down south. Good memories I'm sure.

Probably the next time we crossed paths - outside of a handshake and hello after a worship service - was last May. Andia was a member of the Class of 2009, and she stood up front the morning we recognized all the graduating seniors from the church. I remember when I asked her to tell the congregation what she'd be doing come this fall, she said she was heading to Urbana University to play soccer and major in education.

"Major in education, and then play soccer, young lady", I corrected her. It made her and the congregation laugh.

But really, to the best of my own memory, that's about it, and as such I won't waste your time talking about a young woman who has already been properly and wonderfully honored by her family and friends in this service. To be honest, I don't think I could do her memory justice. Instead, I encourage you to remember their words, and if you knew her, share after the service with good friends your thoughts and memories of her.

You won't be sorry you did.

No, as the officiating pastor of the service I think maybe, as you sit there and look at what is for many of you, a fat guy in a funny robe, that maybe in the short time I'll be talking this evening, you have something else you want me to address. A question, rattling around in your brain and the depths of your soul that just won't go away. A one word question that's simple enough, but probably impossible to answer.

"Why?"

Why does an upstanding kid of 18 lose her life? Why doesn't she get to experience college life and eventually graduate, get a job, have a classroom or coach a soccer team of her own? Why didn't she get to see a little brother graduate or mess up some other WBL footplayer under the lights on a Friday night? Why doesn't she get to meet a guy, fall in love, walk an aisle, take vows, have a first dance and piece of wedding cake as she floats out the door on her way to a honeymoon? Why didn't she get a chance to be a mother and grandmother? Why must a pall hang over the heads of a family at Christmas or Thanksgiving? Why must a mother put on a strong front and why must a father face one of those moments where he's about text his daughter.... and realize again she's gone?

Why?

Maybe that's a little too graphic for some of you listening (or reading) this right now. I apologize. I didn't mean to upset anybody. It's just not too long ago I was cruising Facebook (yes, I'm old but I do have a Facebook page) and out of blue a sister of a good friend of mine, a member of the
Class of 1987, mentioned recently that it was 23 years ago he lost his life coming home from school in his orange VW Bug.

I don't think of Ed Fox nearly as often I did in the aftermath of his death. Time has a way of temporing the pain. It doesn't do away with it altogether, but it does ease the sense of loss. But every so often I wonder, "What would Ed be doing now, if...?" Would he still be in the service (he enlisted early in the Marines)? Would that sweet, sweet baritone voice still be singing in some choir or group somewhere (we were in choir together.... I loved singing with him because he was so good)? Would he be married? Divorced? Would he be a dad?

I don't think of Ed as often, but my life has gotten far more jumbled since 1986. Professions, degrees, marriage, kids, all kinds of obligations.... such is the reality after we graduate from high school. We go our own separate ways, and pretty soon people who you once thought would be your very best friends forever you now only hear from at Christmas, or the reunion. Or you add them as a Facebook friend, and at best, get semi-caught up and kinda digitally watch them from afar. You don't mean to but the everyday demands of life separate us.

While my pain has eased somewhat, however, I doubt very much this is the same case for Ed's mother and father and sister. I'm guessing they haven't been able to put the kind of distance between themselves and that terrible tragedy on West Shore Drive as I have.

23 years, and still they're left with "Why?". And, really, so are the rest of us. We've just been able to put it out of our mind... mostly.

In any event, I thought it an injustice if on this day, at this service, I didn't at least try to answer that question. To answer it for anyone who lost somebody they loved a long time ago, no matter how sharply or dimmly they remember, and for all of you mourning this young woman. I offer this day my thoughts in the hope that in the midst of the random moment next week, or next month, or 23 years from now when, "Why?", haunts you again, maybe I'll be able to leave with you something that will at least partially fill the blank.

However, before I take my best stab at "Why", I think I'd better share something else that occurred to me as I was trying to wring this out in my tiny brain...

In all my years as a minister, nobody has once, on the good days, the joyous days, the days I hope you celebrate in regards to to the best of time you spent with Andia... nobody's ever asked me, "Why was the Lord so good to me today?" Never happened. Not once.

And that goes for me too.

I mean when Max or Xavier or Eli or Toby were born I never asked why I should have been so privledged to have experienced God's grace in a way that only holding a son for the first time can convey. I never asked God why I was able to marry such a wonderful woman or work at such a great church. I never asked God why He let me experience the euphoria of the Buckeyes eeking out that win against Miami for the National Championship or watching my brother get sworn in as a lawyer or celebrating my mother being named "Teacher of the Year" in Auglaize County.

Nobody, on those days, asks "Why?". Isn't beauty and joy and love as much a mystery as death? Those moments are so fleeting, yet such an intregal part of the foundation for a meaningful life. They carry us in the darkest of days, and yet we don't really think about why God would grace us with such blessings.

I don't think, for example, that Andia walked around wondering why the Lord had blessed her with such great friends and family. I mean, when you, her posse from this past summer, snuck into the Country Club pool after hours for a swim, or when you, her family, charged across an open field on a snowmobile, or when any of you who coached or played with Andia on a soccer team experienced the bond that can only come when a group of individuals work for one goal and one purpose, blessed her life I don't think Andia sat around wondering, "Gee whiz, dude.... why is God been so good to me?"

That wasn't her way.

Don't misunderstand me... I believe she cared about the Lord. She was no saint (I heard the stories shared at the prayer vigil in her honor Sunday night here and I heard there were other stories that couldn't be shared in a church... I got a few of those from my past too), but saints are few and far between. She loved the Lord, of this I am sure, I just don't think, given what I've heard about her that on the joyous of joyful moments Andia sat around wondering why God let her be so blessed. In fact, if I understand her correctly, on those days I think she just tried in her own way to magnify the blessing.

And, if we're gonna be completely honest here, I don't think on her darkest days or moments Andia sat around moping about where God was. If the team lost, I have to think Andia thought the team's effort just wasn't good enough, or that everyone needed to work harder.

Or, God help the fool who picked on her little brother - that was her job and no one elses - but if he had missed a key tackle or block that helped cost the team the game I don't think she would look for some great extistential meaning. She'd give him a hug, and tell him to get his ass into the weight room. Am I right?

When she lost someone she loved - like her grandfather or her "nana" - it didn't send her into such a funk that she became unable to laugh or love or poke fun or celebrate life. That's not what I heard of the one called Mandia who left a teacher a bag of Hershey's kisses in his school mailbox and taped one of her friend's pictures to the bag.

But, once again, I digress. Given all of this, all this stuff about God and Andia and joy and pain and winning and losing and life and death, here's my best guess at the question of "Why did Andia Shisler lose her life?"

I don't know. Why one person gets into a horrible accident and walks away with a scratch and another doesn't walk away is more than just a physics problem. It's a mystery, much like life, fate, free will, the afterlife, God, Heaven.... there's a reason why we say in this Christian walk a person has to have faith. Faith is what you have when your counting on beyond what the sciences or rationality can explain.

Given what I've learned about her, however, Andia wouldn't want you sitting around moping about "Why?". For the blessings in life we receive, and the trials we must endure. They are both great mysteries, the genesis of which is convoluded and impossible to understand. How we deal with them though is defined by what we believe about what we gather is the meaning behind everything.

I cannot speak for people of other faiths. To do so would be me speaking in ignorance. I can speak as a Christian leader, and in our tradition we believe that good can come out of all things, both good and bad. That we can do all things, persevere through all things, and still bring life in the aftermath of all things, through Christ who strengthens us.

That's what Paul tells us in the book of Hebrews. Whether the day is the greatest ever, or the worst nightmare we can imagine, our eyes need to stay fixed on the tape at the end of the race. On a prize that's greater than a medal or trophy or ring. A prize that can only be granted by the Master, who has established the criteria for worthiness through his own devotion, body, blood, and life. A prize given after we have lived this life as faithfully as we were able, given our limitations and circumstances, and we stand on the other side, before our Maker, who asks us to bow our head, and instead of a medal says:

"Well done, good and faithful servant."

Well done the job you did to love others - your family, friends, those who make you uncomfortable, and even those who when you think of them create a pit in the bottom of your stomach.

Well done the job you did loving the Lord, praying even when you weren't sure what to pray, trusting even when your world was shattered, giving even when it seemed like there was nothing no matter how far down you reached, to give.

Well done, even in the midst of your sin and imperfection, the job of inviting God's perfect will to be on earth as it is in Heaven.

Well done, says the Master, who knows what it feels like to be rejected. Who knows the sting of scorn, the burning that comes only with ridicule, and the grief and mourning that comes only with death.

Well done from the One who too, in his darkest hour, asked "Why? Why, Papa are You foresaking me too?"

Feel free to ask "Why?", just don't let it overwhelm you. Depress you. Defeat you. Think of Jesus, who overcame death, and remember that promise is yours also.

And, just one last thing....

Remember, that as Jesus comes along side you, celebrating your victories, and washing your feet whilst laying hands upon you in your defeats, that another one sits watching. One who no longer wonders why, and won't tolerate letting you use her to make excuses for letting your life come to a standstill.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

What a wonderful image Paul leaves us with today. Us, surrounded by a "great cloud of witnesses". Because I have a relationship with this congregation that spans almost two decades, when I stand in this place - whether it be in the Centrum or Sanctuary, or outside during Fall Fest or on the shore of Sims' pond at the Sea of Galilee Party, or wherever it is ministry happens - I have this sense that we're being watched. Names like Pat and Helen Price, Gail Goodwin, Stan Weller, Dwight and Mary Becker.... names that might not mean much to you, but for me, and many others who knew and loved them, but names of people who lived and sacrificed for this family of faith. And I think personally of names meaningful to me - Dean, Fred, Carol, Dick, and yes, Ed Fox - sitting in that great assembly rooting me, and so many others, on as we strive to bring love and light into this world.

There she sits. Not just another face in the crowd. She's watching, pulling for you to honor the Lord by doing your best. Encouraging you to give away your mourning, and letting the Author of Life turing into dancing. You stumble, and she makes a weird noise, laughs at you, and tells you to keep pushing.

Give back like the young woman who wanted to mold middle school students. Give freely, like the young woman who would give the shirt off her back for her friends, and as she grew in grace those in need.

Ask "Why?", but ask the "Why?" Andia, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt right now is begging you to ask:

"Why am I sitting here moping about what isn't, when I could be celebrating what is, while living a life worthy of one day being given one of those seats in that great assembly of witnesses where I can root on those I love for all eternity?"

Why? I don't know. But you'd better not hang your head and blaim her. You'll have to answer for that someday, because she's watching. Rooting you on.

"Here's a hug. Now get your ass back in the weight room."

GLEE: A Perspective From A Lima Loser

2009-09-24T11:02:00.008-04:00

Ever since The West Wing ended I haven't watched much network TV. I never started watching "Lost" or "House" or "30 Rock" or even "The Office". I like "The Office" but I didn't catch on to it until seeing the reruns on basic cable. That's what happens when you rarely turn on the TV before 10pm. The downside is you have no idea what other people are watching (although, admittedly, given the decline in network TV, I don't know many people who watch network TV, or at least talk about it... except for Dancing With the Stars and American Idol. Man, I can't get away from those shows in the office the days after they've aired. The ladies in the office beat them to the point I just want dig my ear drums with a rusty fork), but the upside is that when they're finally on at the time you watch TV, they're all new to you. Network TV, was for all intensive purposes, dead to me.

And then there was GLEE.

When I heard that FOX show which features William McKinley High School, the setting for their new comedy/musical hybrid, fictionally in Lima, I couldn't help but be curious. How was the town I live in and call home going to be portrayed?

Well, I think after the airing of a few episodes, we have our answer. It's no surprise the metaphor of Lima is really being used, at least to this point, as the kind of place that's good to be from. In a recent episode, for example, when a teacher/football coach confronts a female guidance counselor about her crush on a married music teacher (and yes, I did wonder if I had stepped back into my college days when we gathered to watch Days of Our Lives), he makes it a point to tell her that she should really start dating him because he was a "minority" with tenure and "couldn't be fired" so she "couldn't do better in this one-horse town".

I disagree. We have many more horses here. That's the hole we're going to fill though... the place where we're all Lost In Middle America.

In any event, this portrayal of the city as not the end of the world, but a place where you could see it was driven home in this week's episode. The show caused a small ruckus locally when the student characters were talking about not being "Lima Losers". I had just turned on the show right before the line was used multiple times, and I even Facebooked about it when it happened.

Sideline: The problem with Facebook, and all written digital communication in general, is that it's impossible to know the intent of the person who has transmitted the words. When I wrote whatever it was I wrote (something to the effect that "Hey GLEE, in our town we're all Lima Losers!), my intent was light-hearted. Imagine my surprise when some when a small debate began to erupt over why the producers had to slam Lima, or how they were just trying to reflect the feelings of teens from every small town or city about wanting to get out of dodge. Whatever. I was just representin', yo! LIMA LOSER IN THE HOUSE!!! I mean, how often does our town get mentioned on a bigger stage? Not often. Just wanted to acknowledge we're getting a little attention, and not much else.

But the whole "Lima Loser" thing, and with it the realization of how Lima and all it represents is going to be used creatively, is hitting home. I heard about it in my office, at the gas station, and it was even mentioned on the phone with a "Harvest for the Hungry" corporate partner this morning. Most of the locals only heard about the "Lima Loser" comment from their kids (which I imagine locally GLEE has about a 99% of all teens watching it, if only because they know it's about teens from Lima, Ohio.... a few of them are probably thinking they'll see a friend which is either sad or funny) but no matter. It's rankled the locals. If there isn't an article about the negative portrayal of the community in The Lima News within a week or two I'll be shocked. I can already see Dan Beck using the whole "Lima Losers" thing as a part of his mayoral campaign as an impetus for change. This is the way it is when there's not much else locally to sway your attention.

But I digress... What, if anything, should a simple Midwestern pastor make of all this?

Well, first and foremost, the attitude of the show regarding towns like ours I think is a pretty accurate reflection of the national mood. Once upon a time people grew up in Lima dreaming of working in a local factory, opening up a local medical practice, or starting their own business. It was the kind of place where you found multiple generations of families living in close proximity together, and an attitude that while Lima wasn't the most exciting place in the world to live, given the chance to make a decent living and find an affordable house, it was a pretty good place to raise a family and live.

Now, while most of us do have family here and still feel this a good place to raise a family, we only feel that way provided you can find good work. Over the last thirty years the city itself has emptied at an alarming rate, the population declining from 50,000+ at the zenith of the late 70's, to now about 30,000+. While some of that decline actually was just transfer growth as folks moved into the burbs (full disclosure: I live in the Village of Fort Shawnee, and work in Shawnee Township, which are burbs), the attitude toward the city amongst the locals, and those who were once locals has changed decidedly since the early 70's. Closed plants, the communal rot caused by the drug epidemic/unemployment/poverty which began in 80's, empty houses, a dying downtown..... Lima is no different than many, many other Midwestern towns and cities that have been hammered by the twin whammies of the "Global Economy" (and hence the decline of American manufacturing) and all social problems that come from urban decay.

Buffalo. Youngstown. Muncie. Lansing. Flint. Pittsburgh. Akron. Toledo. The list goes on and on of Midwestern cities that have been taking a beating for more than three decades, and adapting to a new normal where the feeling that its all just slowly winding down is just a part of life. That's why when someone did the "Hastily Made Cleveland Tourism Videos" and posted them on YouTube, they touted the city's primary economic engine as being "LeBron James", it's main export as "Crippling Depression", and as the place where you could "buy a house for same price as a VCR", and we all laughed because the end of the video touts the town as "at least not being Detorit".

Detroit is a place you live when you have no other options, or you can benefit from the depressed real estate market. That's all of us. We lived by the automobile, now we die by it. We're hanging onto to dear life the industry still here, embracing the emerging health industry that's taking care of our aging populations, and figuring out this love/hate relationship we have with the service sector, which predominantly consists of big box stores. Right now, for example, the town is in mourning over the loss of our Anderson's store. People are describing it like a friend with a terminal illness. Tomorrow, though, if Target said they were coming, I'm sure we'd throw a parade. It'd be a bigger deal than, well.... GLEE. So, in other words, the pay in the service sector sucks, but we certainly like having available to us cheap merchandise mass-produced overseas.

So GLEE's portrayal of our fair city as the metaphor/representation of 21st Century Midwestern America isn't all that big of a surprise. I mean, you can't buy a house here for a price of a VCR, but if Brother Esq ever decided to move down here he could buy the former Roosevelt Elementary School for the price of a high end 2010 Ford Taurus. Such is our reality, and such is the general perception of the rest of the country of us, and cities like ours.

The second, and final thing I'll say about this as a pastor, is that where I think the perception of the city is effecting my theology and preaching is that where you have chaos and emptiness, there lay opportunity for creative and entrepreneurial souls. Because God is a creative God (I mean you gotta be creative to come up with the duck billed platypus or stratus clouds), and always is creating, and we are reflection of that God, there's a "second act" brewing for a town like ours.

Maybe this more a reflection of the "American optimism" the rest of the world seems to envy (and miss in the aftermath of 9/11) than of some well-thought out theology, but when I think of the city I can't help but remember the story of Nehemiah. Nehemiah was a member of the Judah's court held in captivity by Darius the Great, the king of the Persian Empire. Nehemiah was Darius' cup-bearer, which might not seem like that big a deal but was actually a position of some importance. Remember, despotic or non-democratically established leaders only step down in the event 1) they decide to for the purpose of installing their own heir or 2) they die. It wasn't uncommon for these leaders to die for reasons other than old age. Assassination, and particularly death by poisoning, was a popular way for a rival (sometimes your own relative) to move your caboose out of the throne.

The cup-bearer's job was making sure the king's cup was hemlock-free. This meant the cup-bearer served as a form of intel for the court. He had to be aware of those on staff or in the family who might want the king "off-ed", and plan according. Unusual it was for a member of a conquered court to serve in this capacity, but by all accounts (in the book of Nehemiah), Nehemiah was the kind of person - high integrity, honesty, moral - you'd want manning the job.

Had he wanted to, Nehemiah could have bided his time and lived pretty well in Darius' court, but when he heard about the state of his home, Jerusalem, and how it was still in ruins many years after being conquered by the Babylonians, it grieved him. So, with everything to lose, Nehemiah risked his position and place on behalf of his city. He leveraged his position with Darius to secure financing, protection, and ultimately a chance to lead the reconstruction on the ground. He had much to overcome - those living in the city, for example, had to sleep, work, and protect the slowly rising walls round the clock against local rivals who didn't want to see Jerusalem re-emerge as a power - but eventually the city was reconstructed.

The fact is most young people grow up in Lima just wanting to someday get out. Others growing up elsewhere don't generally dream of coming to live and work in a declining mid-size town marred by regional infighting and petty politics. But somewhere, someone, like Nehemiah, sees opportunity, not just for themselves and their family, but for others. Maybe they're fueled by a sense of justice or ambition or profit or a love for God and others... or some hodgepodge of all those things or more. That's why some people have moved here, and why others of us have moved back.

We love the city maybe not as much as God loves the city, but we still love it and see the possibilities.

God is a creating God, who has created us in his own image. For those looking to create, the canvas of places like Lima only becomes increasingly attractive if only because they get to paint that which makes their heart sing.

Lima, then, might be a place for losers, but losers are only people who have competed and came up on the wrong side of the ledger. Or winners who got knocked down for awhile. The importance is to keep praying, competing, believing, and staying open to coaches and players who are able to turn the team around.

The Lord is not done with us yet, hence, much like the GLEE kids, all of us losers won't stop believin'.

Thank You Phat Pastor Nation!

2009-09-19T11:51:00.002-04:00

I barely beat the two ladies behind me pushing their kids in strollers, but still finished. Thank you all for your support. We received an incredible last minute donation from Christian in Colorado that really put it over the top last night... $2850 from the Phat Pastor Nation!

Thank you, everyone, for all the love you've shown to the people of Haiti. In January and February we'll show some of the ways your money has been put to work.

Once again, thank you and God Bless!

Hands for Haiti 5k/Half-Marathon - THE LAST DAY FOR DONATIONS

2009-09-18T16:05:00.003-04:00

The last video. You can see the donate button at the bottom of this post. It'll be operable until late tonight. Thank You all for your support of the Hands for Haiti 5k/Half-Marathon, and if you haven't donated yet, join the legion that is Phat Pastor Nation, and make a pledge.

Yesterday's "Who Is My Neighbor?"

Here's yesterday's video. What would an appeal be like if I were one of the old style TV evangelists? Hmmmm......

Hands for Haiti 5k - DAY 4 Video

2009-09-16T13:47:00.014-04:00

Who is my neighbor?

Here's yesterday's video. What would an appeal be like if I were one of the old style TV evangelists? Hmmmm......

and here's yesterdays cause, well, just because...
Only three days left until the big race. Click here for more details if you'd like to walk up to register either Friday evening or Saturday morning at the race. Send checks to support this effort to:

Shawnee UMC
2600 Zurmehly Rd.
Lima OH. 45806

All proceeds will go to our work in Haiti. Not a dime to administration or church ops, but rather every penny into vaccinations, medicine, medical personnel, feeding projects, water well repair, and all those things that make life more bearable in a place where it is very difficult.

Thanks again to all who have supported the Phat Pastor's effort to raise money for the people of Haiti.

Hands For Haiti 5k/Half-Marathon (DAY 2 VIDEO NOW POSTED)

2009-09-14T11:13:00.009-04:00

This Saturday, for the first time in many, many years (am thinking it was a 10K in Lima my Sophomore year of high school) I'll be "running" in a 5K. My training has been spotty (at best) but I'm committed to making this run.

You see, all the proceeds from the race are going to SUMC's medical mission work in Northern Haiti. Right now, we are talking with International Child Care to open a clinic in a remote area of the country that is often cut-off during the rainy season. The idea is to have a clinic with small staff functioning year-round so that medical help will be available regardless of whether or not roads are open. We also sponsor day-clinics manned by volunteers from the church a few weeks every year with our partner, Living Hope Mission.

You can support this by sponsoring me. Just click on the PayPal button above. Support the phatest pastor "running" (there may be more walking than running just so you know) either with a buck per mile (total = $3), or a buck per kilometer (total = $5), or give whatever you want. Use your credit card and make it easy on yourself. If that doesn't work, just send a check to:

Shawnee UMC
c/0 The Phat Pastor
2600 Zurmehly Rd.
Lima, Ohio 45806

If you wish, you may receive a statement for tax purposes. All expenses for this race are covered so 100% of your money will go to purchase drugs, supplies, and other medical whatnot for Haitians in need.

NOTE: There is a prize for the person who raises the most money at this race, but I have self-disqualified myself from winning (just to keep things above board).

To find out more about the race, or to get info about entering yourself as a walk-up this weekend, just click here on the official website.

Thanks for stopping by!

Fruit of the Spirit

2009-08-22T18:00:00.007-04:00

(just a little primer for tomorrow's sermon)

For most of my adult life I have spent the vast majority of my time as a pastor and Christian working on becoming more knowledgeable. I'm finishing up a second post-graduate degree (Dr. Bucher, can I ask you a question about my back? Uh, no, but if you want a smooth transition when your pastor leaves give me a call.). I've spent I don't know how many hours chasing down info on living in the Roman Empire or doing cross-cultural studies in the world of ancient Mesopotamia.

(Don't mess wit my potamia!)

I've chased down meanings on Hebrew and Aramaic words. I've compared Marcus Borg (great cultural study of the Roman world) with N.T. Wright (another great cultural study of the Roman world who disagrees with Borg, but yet they remain mutual admirers), deconstructed dispensationalism, via the Internet/DVD/books tried to understand the world from an archeologist's eyes, and generally burned a lot of hours in various seminary libraries (I used to hide in the dark in a cubicle at Methesco so I could study all night after it closed). When it comes to the Bible, theology, and the sociology of various Christian movements, I think I've really grown since I walked the line at Lima Stadium as a member of Lima Senior High's Class of 1987.

But, I've got to be honest with you, in a lot of respects I've wondered if somehow I've missed the boat? Or more aptly, taken my eyes off the prize for something less worthy.

Shortly after Christ's death - within a hundred years or so anyway - a subculture began to develop within the Christian movement. These folks, who became known as "Gnostics" (from the Greek, "gnosis" meaning "knowledge"). For my purposes today, it's not really all that important to describe exactly what the Gnostics believed. If you go to the fount of all truth and knowledge - Wikipedia - you'll find (in part) this definition:

a form of revealed, esoteric knowledge through which the spiritual elements of humanity are reminded of their true origins within the superior Godhead, being thus permitted to escape materiality

Gnostics believed that God had implanted knowledge in us, and the creation, that if could be discovered would free us from our present reality. All you had to do was apply yourself to seeking out this "hidden knowledge" with various teachers using texts devised by the same teachers (or those who taught the teachers) who had made these amazing discoveries, and you too could be free of the pain, struggle, and uncertainty that life throws at you.

In the fourth century AD, the Gnostics, recognized as mystic crackpots, were largely banished to the fringe of the Christian experience. And, quite frankly, with good reason. I don't have the time to talk about all the stuff Gnostics taught but the "accounts of Jesus Christ" they wrote were product of "mystic visions" and "out of body experiences". When you start giving "historical accounts" received in the throws of a mystic vision the same authority as that of an eye-witness, problems will quickly arise. Hence, Orthodox Christianity disposed of Gnosticism long, long ago. And while the "Gnostic Gospels" pop up every so often as "proof" the Christian church (meaning mainly the Roman Catholic Church) is trying to keep the "truth" away from people (i.e. The DaVinci Code), the really boring truth about them is that they were just too loopy to be believed.

But while the Gnostics may have lost of the battle, I'm becoming increasingly alarmed that maybe they're winning the war. Oh, I don't mean that there's a growing subculture who believe that Jesus was neither "human" or "divine", but some other substance that was neither. The pursuit of knowledge as the end of the Christian spiritual journey however, has become more our focus than it probably should. Knowledge learned in the right way, with the right bent, from the right perspective. We're no longer obsessed, necessarily, with figuring out the secret as to how to be freed in this life from our physical selves (although I could stand to be freed from about 100 pounds of my physical self), but it seems like every Christian movement out there right now is trying to convince you that there is a more concentric circle of understanding hidden from everyone else they possess... and all have to do is go plant your flag in their soil long enough until that knowledge becomes yours.

That's the essence of Gnosticism - the belief that you have "secret knowledge" others don't possess that is essential for others to know before they know the "truth".

No part of this culture of ours is escaping the Gnostic curse right now. Politics, religion, spirituality, finance, a person's emotional well-being.... all you need are the right "facts" and all will be well. Even the church, even us pastors, even us pastors who are up the occasional night agonizing over whether or not that last sermon sold you bunk and not the "Gospel", are just looking for the right source. The right scholar. The right theology. The right facts in the hope we'll set you free.

We are a people obsessed with knowledge, and for good reason. Doesn't matter what you do for a living, if you don't know how to do what you are doing, you're toast. For example, do you want drive over a bridge built by someone who understands civil engineering or by some guy making up its construction on the fly?

Put that concrete wherever, just use enough to make sure that if a fuel truck goes over this bad boy it won't collapse.

There's a reason why a friend of mine who repairs cars for a living put up this little ditty in his garage:

Labor Rates: $50 an hour for all repair work. $100 an hour if you first tried fixing it yourself.

In our world, now maybe more than ever in history, knowledge is the key to a better life. When I was in college, until the year Aimee and I were married, I roomed with Mike. Mike and I both moved to Lima in the fifth grade. From a very young age Mike was unusually focused on his studies. By his own definition, mot the biggest or smartest guy, Mike worked at his studies like few other people I've ever met. He came from a family of modest means, and knew that whatever way he was gonna make in the world was largely going to be the product of his own blood, sweat, and tears. Most of us don't learn this until later. Mike seemed to get it as far back as junior high school. In high school and the three years we roomed together at college, I suspect that for every hour I studied, Mike studied three or four hours. About the only time I saw him without a book when when he was eating, badgering us to play him in racquetball, when he'd play the occasional video game (on the old "Commodore 64"), or when he slept. On Fridays and Saturdays while the rest of Miami was blowing off steam, Mike was volunteering at the local hospital ER, watching doctors and nurses piece together Miami students who blew themselves up with the steam.

Mike was obsessed with gaining knowledge, and for good reason. He wanted to go to medical school, which is not easy to get into, and become a doctor. I'm glad to say that all of his hard work paid off, and now he has a successful dermatology practice. Given all my Lima Senior classmates - those who graduated and those who didn't - I'm sure if you ask those whose lives haven't ended up where they wanted them to be, they'd tell you they wish - in an echo of an old Gatorade campaign - in junior and senior high school, they'd been more like Mike.

To a degree, the old adage, "Knowledge is Power", has gotta lot of truth to it.

But while in this spiritual journey "knowledge" is most definitely important, it is only a means to an end, and not an end to itself. It's believed now by many scholars that in the early church, before you could become a member you'd have to go through a three year period of study where you'd be challenged to commit the life and certain teaching of Jesus to memory. Given the lack of books (let alone the Internet) this was essential in passing down the story and essence of the faith. The Gospels themselves are largely considered to be the product of different faith communities who at some point decided to commit what they were learning to memory.

But learning was only one aspect of the Christan experience, and not even the most important one at that. As opposed to "learning" about Jesus' Gospel, the greater emphasis was on "becoming" the person Jesus called us to be.

Never was emphasis on "becoming" greater than "learning" than in the writings of Paul. The one who wrote

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing."

This is a man who once prided himself on "being a Jew amongst Jews". The smartest religious teacher and leader around, fluent not only in the Hebrew Bible and the tradition of Jewish Law, but also in the Greek disciplines of logic, rhetoric, and philosophy. At one time, Paul's greatest point of pride was that in a room full of very, very smart people, he was arguably the smartest. And because he was the smartest, he was looked to as a leader. Paul, we're told, gave those who stoned Stephen, the first Christian, the spiritual authority to do so. When he was blinded by Jesus he was on his way to Damascus, he was on his way to work with local Jewish leaders in a non-Jewish dominated town to start stemming the growing wave of Christian converts. If the Apostles were taking the message of Christ beyond Jerusalem, Paul was being targeted by those who opposed this message to stomp it out wherever necessary.

It's not surprising then, after Paul's conversion that while he was concerned with new Christan disciples learning the Gospel, he was more preoccupied with them "becoming more like Christ". Or as he put it, becoming someone directed by the Holy Spirit to "produce fruit": Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

The fact is, for better or worse, there is no "secret knowledge" in some book or possessed by some "wise teacher" that will produce this kind of fruit. With apologizes to the lady who wrote the book, "The Secret", visualizing who want to be until the day it happens might sound really great (and possesses a grain of truth - it's not a bad thing to have a vision for your life), but it's hardly a secret. I can point you to a thousand other books that say the same thing but weren't marketed nearly as well. While we can learn more about the world around us, about ourselves, and others, in the end Solomon, while admittedly sounding pretty cynical, is right - there's nothing new under the sun. God has given us scripture, the ability to reason, a Christian tradition where we can see were mistakes were made, and our own experience so that we might not just be smarter, but rather, fruitful.

I mean all the stuff listed in Galatians 5 which is the list of that which is the opposite of spiritual fruit:

sexual immorality
impure thoughts
eagerness for lustful pleasure
idolatry
participation in demonic activities
hostility
quarreling
jealousy
outbursts of anger
selfish ambition
divisions
the feeling that everyone is wrong except those in your own little group
envy
drunkenness
wild parties

you can be the most knowledgeable bloke around and still behave badly and engage in all these things. One of the brightest, smartest students I ever came across while I was at Miami was a witch who offered to help teach me spells to help my love life (which I decided to give a pass). Another classmate of mine who graduated "magna cum-laude" in 1991 and he was a libertarian who not only got high a lot but thought everyone who wasn't with him was self-delusioned nut. Seems like there's a story every single day of someone you wouldn't expect - either due to their education, background, or standing - who has engaged any one or more of the above behaviors and is now paying for it. All the athletic prowess and ability in the world isn't gonna stop people from wearing "Hide Your Beagle, Vick's An Eagle" t-shirts.

It's not enough to know about being a disciple. The end is becoming one.

What's more I have met, heard, read, and talked with plenty of people who knew a lot of Bible, church history, and theology - who could run rings around the rest of us apologetically - who were, for lack of a better term, jerks. Of all the profs, for example, I've had in the two seminaries where I studied, eight ran away from their spouses with a student in their class. EIGHT!

I remember this one time I went to a conference for church leaders: we ended up sitting at a table with a lead pastor whose ministry I had always admired from afar. I had read his books and listened to his sermons. He was brilliant. I thought the world of him....

and then, I met him.

That was a long time ago, but since then I've had enough other personal experience with big-time pastors that I have this theory that you almost have to be ego-centric jerk to be able to grow a church to an epic size. But this was the first time I had experienced this first hand, and I remember really being torn in that moment. Since then, the guy has taken a lot of lumps, and I can't say I'm surprised. Even a lot of knowledge about the one who calls us to "go forth and produce fruit that lasts" doesn't necessary add up to a life where the right kind of fruit is produced.

Love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

The fact is I know plenty of folks who don't know why e=mc2 or post-milleniallism or who the biblical character Tamar was (she was simultaneously the daughter-in-law of Judah, and also the mother of his children.... not quite the family-values you thought were in the Bible, eh?) who produce more fruit than the Bing Cherry trees in all of that state up north.

All that to say this.... is your spiritual journey - a life of study, worship, prayer, service, personal discipline - is it making you more fruitful. And if it isn't, why?

Or put it another way... are you learning more about God, or making peace with God? There's a big difference.

Jesus calls us in John 15 to "remain in my love... I have told you this so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow!" He calls us, in our "becoming" a disciple and in working with others in their "becoming" a disciple, to the realization that it's more important to dwell with Jesus long enough to see the world through his eyes than knowing the right way or the right things. That's the difference between knowing that people who mourn are blessed because now that the Messiah has come they will be comforted, and comforting those who mourn because in your heart the Messiah has come.

Hence, while I think its a good idea to learn all you can, calibrate what you are learning by asking the question, changed a little than when the old lady said something similar in a Wendy's commercial, but still yet applicable..

Where's the fruit? Where's the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control?

19 Years

2009-08-18T12:28:00.004-04:00

19 years ago today, Aimee and I were married at Trinity United Methodist Church here in Lima. Here are nineteen memories of that day...

1) It was hot. Damn hot. 102 degrees in the shade hot, and ours was the very last wedding done at Trinity before they installed air conditioning. What's more, our reception was at the UAW Hall which also wasn't air conditioned. To top it off, I chose the tuxedos that previous winter. They were wool.

Did I say the day was hot?

2) The church was so hot (I know I'm beating this to death, but this a great story) that the groomsman filled the balloons with helium in an air conditioned room of the church, and when they brought them into the non-air conditioned foyer they began to, one-by-one, explode. It was like Bill Nye The Science Guy showed up at our wedding.

3) Til this day I say that we had the best rehearsal dinner, ever. Instead of some restaurant, we decided to do our RD at Sherwood Pool. We set up the grub and beverages in the clubhouse, played tunes on the stereo, and everyone - the wedding party, our family, all our college friends, the pastor and his family - went swimming. Lots of fun into the wee hours.

4) The Allen County Fair used be held earlier than it is now. In 1990, August 18th happened to be the day it opened. The fair parade used to (it may still.... I have no idea) march down Market Street and turn down West, out to Elm, and onto the Fairgrounds. Unfortunately for us, Trinity was, and is, located at the corner of Market and West, meaning we couldn't get to the church cause the REACT guys wouldn't let us cross the street, interrupting said parade. We all ended up at the church quite late, and my lovely bride was hysterical because we were so far behind schedule (we did all pics, including the ones together, before the ceremony). Mike Ayres pushed the picture schedule though, and everything ended up OK. However, if you want to see my wife frown, just say "Fair Parade".

5) Aimee was a music major at Miami (of Ohio, of course.... Miami was a University when Florida belonged to Spain) which meant we had some of the most fabulous music before and during our ceremony. We had a harp. We had an a-list organist. We quartets and soloists. They were all really, really good.

6) To be honest, I don't remember much about the actual wedding ceremony. I remember Aimee was beautiful and the church was pretty full - which was confirmed by a picture taken by Mike from the rear balcony of the crowd - and not much else.

Just a quick aside - I wasn't at all happy with Mike Ayers the day of the ceremony because he made us pose for about a million pictures, but I was thumbing through our wedding album the other day and the guy did a tremendous job. To think, that was when he was first getting started. Couldn't recommend him higher.

Back to the ceremony.... I'm sure my wife remembers more of it than I do. I just remember feeling faint while Dave led us through our vows, shaking while trying to put the ring on her finger, and how her brown eyes sparkled during the ceremony.

7) One of my favorite memories of that day was after the service, when people had released the balloons that had survived, and we had climbed into a limo, Aimee and I were alone, just riding around in the air-conditioning drinking champagne. Just the two of us, a couple of kids, our whole lives in front of us. I think of that moment, and it still makes me smile.

8) The DJ we used was instructed to play music from every era, including Big Band. I can still see my wife's grandparents, and my Uncle Paul and Aunt Eileen dancing to the sounds of Glenn Miller. They're all gone now so I'm glad I at least have those memories, and that for a moment we gave them that bit of joy.

9) It should be stated that I did not shove cake into my wife's face. She did get into a cake fight with my brother-in-law and uncle later, but I was a gentleman. Besides, that cake was pretty good. No sense wasting it.

10) There was an open bar at our reception, and given how hot it was that day people took full advantage of Aimee's family's hospitality. Fortunately it was so hot that all the alcohol was sweated out of people's systems before they could get stupid. My college friends, in particular, since the hotel they were staying in was next door and could be reached by foot, enjoyed the libations. I remember in particular Steve Skeels going from table to table picking up half-filled champagne bottles (after the toast, which was the cue for most of the folks at the reception to take off and find a place to cool off) and taking them to table where "The Gang" was sitting. We have this great shot of a group of them sitting at a table that is filled with green bottles. They were the first to arrive at the reception, and the last to leave.

11) We were both in college so we had no money. That summer I had worked two jobs (surveyor at Dad's firm during the day and as a carnie selling corn dogs at county fairs at night and on weekends) as had Aimee (as an employee of the city at the Children's Art Park by day, and a waitress at Frisch's by night) and all the cash went to buy our first home - 14x70 Mobile Home in the scariest trailer-park in Southwest Ohio. Her aunt and uncle, Sharon and Frank Dugan, let use their cottage in Galena, Illinois for our honeymoon (which is really nice), but as for cash while traveling, we had very little. The plan was to do a "dollar dance" at the reception and use that as our spending money. It did raise a couple hundred bucks, which was a relief. At least now we could buy enough gas to get us from Lima to Galena, and back.

As we were leaving though, my Uncle Fred pulled us aside and slipped us a wad of cash that he told us he and Aunt Kathy didn't want brought back to Ohio. Hence, without the Dugans and the Diehls, our honeymoon would have been a night at the local Howard Johnson's. Once again, much thanks. Much, much thanks.

12) As you might imagine, this whole affair wasn't small. Big wedding ceremony. Big reception. Big bills. I don't want to think what Aimee's folks spent on this day, and we'll probably never fully know. Aimee's mom was the force behind making the thing as big as big could be, and in the end she spared no expense. If you knew her, you know she was that way. This was a woman who spent untold dollars on playground equipment and toys of all kinds so that her grandkids would beg their parents to take them to grandmother's house. When it came to throwing a party and getting her family together, Carol Allen knew no budget.

She and Bryant weren't too keen on the idea of our getting married so young and still in school. The only thing I can remember about them on that day was her mom pulling me aside right before we left the reception, and making me promise for about the hundredth time that I would make sure Aimee would finish her degree.

Two years later Carol would give me a big kiss on the cheek as Aimee walked the line at Millett Hall.

Thanks Carol for going in the hole for us, and really, throughout your life, for all of us who you loved. I wish I could thank you in person... someday (hopefully not soon, but someday nonetheless) I will.

13) Before the wedding my college roommate sat me down and tried to explain to me that I was making a big mistake and destroying my life. Getting married... living in a trailer... still in school... Mike was convinced that I was about to make a mistake of epic proportions. Surely, very soon, I'd be working the night shift at the local 7-11, supporting a wife and three kids while still short 12 credit hours of a college degree. Needless to say, I was not pleased. I had included him in my wedding party (we'd been roommates for three years and friends since the fifth grade), and if the tuxes hadn't been ordered I would have un-invited him.

It's good for him I didn't.

At my wedding, Mike met my wife's Maid of Honor, Jenne Gradwahl. One year later they were married, setting up their home in a newly acquired mobile home, getting ready for Mike to begin his first year of medical school at Wright State. Now they're living in Findlay, happily married, where Dr. Cairns has a dermatology practice.

You can't make this stuff up.

14) During the reception our friends covered my car with condoms and wedding cake. With friends like these, who needs enemies?

15) I remember that one of the highlights of the day was my sister-in-law being present for the ceremony and reception. Not long before we were married, Michelle had experienced the death of her infant son, John (or as he is still known Jammer). Needless to say, she didn't really feel much like celebrating, and who can blame her. We never met the little guy (he was born on a military base in Germany) and we still feel his loss. We know it was tough for Michelle to show up that day because it was the first time after Jammer was gone tshe had to be around her extended family. I mean, how many family members made her answer questions about that tragedy that day I do not know, but one time would have been too many.

I will tell you this though, Aimee was elated to see her sister at her wedding. It really made her day. She still talks about it. Now, nineteen years and four sons later, we know how big, and tough it was for her to be there.

Much love from us both, Shell. Much love and prayer.

16) We left the reception early and stopped by her folks house which is where our suitcases were waiting for us. I remember peeling that tuxedo off me, taking a shower and sinking into shorts, t-shirt, and a pair of flip-flops. Never had I felt so relieved in all my life.

17) Our first night married was spent at a Marriott in Fort Wayne. I reserved "the honeymoon suite", which they assured me they had. It was really was just a regular room that included a fruit basket and a bottle of champagne. I remember not telling anyone, including Aimee, which hotel we were staying at or even what city we were stopping in for the night for fear of what my friends might do with the info. Considering some of the stuff they did to future members of "The Gang" (early morning phone calls from area DJ's and the like) who got hitched, I consider this the smartest wedding move I made, besides popping the question.

(Anyway, it was a lot smarter than those wool tuxes, that's for sure.)

18) You know it's been nineteen years you've been married when you're having trouble remembering nineteen things about your wedding day.

19) The most lasting memory I have now is of two horny, clueless kids who ignored all the wise advice people were giving them, and got married anyway. Six months later we were miserable, hating one another, barely eeking by, living in a trailer with a cat who couldn't stand either of us. Our transition to adulthood took place that first year of marriage, and it hit us with the force and impact that could rival that of a 100 ton press.

It took a year, but we worked a lot of the kinks. Since then there have been ups and downs. Sometimes one person's up was the other person's down. Along the way, though, our love has endured.

We actually celebrated our anniversary last Saturday. We did what has always been our favorite date - dinner and a movie. Back in the early days of marriage this consisted of Bruno's pizza, two cans of root beer, and "Student Night" at the Princess Theater.... and not all that often at that. Saturday we enjoyed the Salad Bar at Ruby Tuesdays and "Bandslam" (a John Hughes-esque throwback that took us back to the glory days of 80's movies). Afterward, we stopped by Happy Daz and got ice cream before we picked up our two youngest from their grandparents.

As we left ice cream place, a young couple - two teenagers - sat by a window next to the exit, making eyes and giggling at one another over a couple of milkshakes. Aimee and I couldn't help but look at one another and laugh. Seems like 0nly yesterday we were teenagers making eyes at one another over breadsticks at Noble Romans. We joked later that we didn't know whether or not to tell those kids to treasure the moment or run like hell.

I'm thankful we have so many moments to treasure, and that we've done our running together.

Happy Anniversary, Aimee. I have and always will, love you.

Pretty Sweet

2009-07-05T19:46:00.003-04:00

This reminds me of some epic HORSE games back in the day with Brett and Wayne when TDS subs were on the line. We weren't as good as this guy, but I'm pretty sure we tried all these shots. In any event, this is a good way to kill three minutes.

Stan the Man

2009-06-30T11:14:00.004-04:00

Last night, Stan Weller passed away after what had been a quick illness, and a long, productive, and fulfilling life.

When I was a young youth pastor (v1.0) at Shawnee in the early/mid nineties I was so dumb I didn't know what I didn't know. It seemed like every other week I said or did something that got me into some kind of trouble. Whether it was people offended by my calling my senior pastor "The Great Bald One" (fortunately, over time the congregation developed a greater sense of humor) or ticked off trustees angry because another table ended up broken at Youth Fellowship, it seemed like the opportunities for me to get beat with sticks were abundant here. I realize most of this I brought down on myself, but I was truly ignorant, and I can tell you it wasn't bliss.

I don't know what it was that convinced Stan to step in and help a clueless guy out. He had been a teacher, coach, and administrator, so maybe he thought he could mold me just like his other students or a young teachers. He liked taking on hopeless causes and arguing with others (he liked to say God put him on the earth to give other people a hard time), so maybe as a member of SPRC, the incessant complaining he heard mainly from older members about the youth pastor kinda got his dander up. Maybe he felt compelled to step in because the lack of a youth ministry at the church prior to my being hired made him sick to his stomach. I don't know.

I suspect that real reason Stan took to me was due to all the mission work the teens were doing in those days. Some of the work - like the annual mission trips to rural South Carolina (which started as Hurricane Hugo repair work but over time became an effort to not only alleviate poverty among mostly rural poor elderly South Carolingians but an effort to bridge racial and cultural barriers in a divided Williamsburg County, SC) was initiated by me.

Some work they were doing wasn't. Ellen Dukeman, a high school student, initiated with a couple of other teens from the church an after-school art program at the Bradfield Center in Lima, which evolved into a once-a-week tutoring program totally run and operated by teens. Stan, I think, saw teens working and giving of themselves, and felt it was too important for the church, and the Kingdom, to idly stand by as the youth pastor in charge repeatedly shot himself in the foot. That's probably when the first invitation to come eat chili at his house happened.

Soon, on about a monthly basis, I found myself at Stan's house where we'd sit, eat, talk, and mostly laugh. In time he started giving me a hard time each and every Sunday morning before and after the 8:30am service. Not long thereafter, he'd regularly stop in at the office, grab Helen Price from her desk, and she and he would come heckle me mercilessly about how I (dis)organized my desk.

I loved every minute of it.

He owned an old orange suburban in those days which he made available to the youth group whenever they needed it. Later, because we were using it more than he was, he asked me if I wanted to buy it. I didn't really have the money so he set it up so the payments could be made whenever I could afford to do so. It took two years to finally pay off the $1100 I owed him, but he didn't seem to care. He burned the ledger in the fire of the grill he used to make us the hamburgers we ate to celebrate the end of my debt.

You just don't forget stuff like that.

After about a year of those lunches at his house, he had asked me so many questions about our mission work in South Carolina that I guess his curiosity got the best of him. He asked whether or not that following summer if he could go with us. I told him that was fine by me. Personally, though, I was a little worried. Stan retired early (at 55, I think). By the time he went down with us he was I believe about 70 years old. I wondered how he would get along with the teens, and they him.

I got my answer as we made our way down the highway on the very first day. I was leading a caravan of four or five vehicles, when out of nowhere an orange suburban went flying past my van. In it was one 70 year old driver and five teens dancing to music coming out of the radio. The suburban was swerving all over the road because the driver, while dancing, wasn't keeping his hands on the wheel as the hunk of metal loaded with kids and gear hurled down the highway at 75mph.

From that day on, Stan was, by far, the most popular adult counselor we took on our mission trips.

I remember something else about Stan's first year with us in SC. We had this kid go with us who even at the age of 12 or 13 was a hellion. Everywhere I had taken the kid he would be a real pain in the everlovin'. He was always mouthing off, sneaking off to grab a quick smoke (which I'd have to quash whenever I could), and causing some sort of trouble. He would openly tell me each week at YF that only reason he was there was because his mother made him go. Repeatedly I gave him permission to stay home, but his mother never relented. I remember shivering when she gave me the sign up form and registration fee so that her son, Todd, could go on the mission trip.

Anyhow, the first day Stan worked in South Carolina, it was hot. Real hot. Like 112 degrees in the shade hot. I had put in charge of building a wheelchair ramp at a home where a mother taking care of an adult daughter with MS lived, and it was clear by lunch that Stan was not well. He wasn't afraid of work, but unaccustomed to the heat he had already over-exerted himself. Because it wasn't that big of a job (I think that year we were also renovating a couple of houses) and because he insisted as a retired principle he could handle them, I had assigned to Stan a crew of my young troublemakers, including Todd.

At first, Stan worked while the kids stood around looking for trouble, but as he tired, he began assigning jobs and showing kids how to do things. By the time I arrived later that morning the kids were digging post holes, mixing concrete, cutting wood, and nailing nails while Stan sat under a shade tree drinking lemonade.

That night at devotions youth and adults were (in jest) giving Stan a hard time about sitting around all day. The ribbing was only growing and getting more pointed, when out of nowhere, Todd stood up, and began passionately defending Stan. Stan, he told us, was only doing what he was supposed to be doing... showing the teens who had signed up to work how to do the work. He went on to tell us to leave Stan alone because he was older and we needed to treat him with more respect. He concluded his speech by letting all know that Stan's crew, under his leadership, would outwork any other crew there that week and the rest of us could just kiss their ass.

Might be the only time I was ever proud of a kid for using blue language at devotions.

It was not only a turning point for Todd. The kid who hated coming to church and YF ended practically living there whenever he had the chance. But is was also a turning point for me, and all the adults and kids involved in the SC mission. From that day on adults made greater efforts to show the kids how to get things done and do the work, and kids expected to work hard. To this day, I don't think any youth pastor expected more work out of a group of teens than I did on those mission trips. One year, for example, in one week those kids built a house from the pad up, renovated another one (down the floor joyces and studs), renovated a church, and did a host of side projects. I think back now and wonder what I was thinking. I worked them so hard under that hot sun you'd have thought they were being punished, but every year their numbers grew.

By 1997 a group of almost 100 people, more than 80 of them teens, traveled to South Carolina to build and repair houses. It was Stan, out of personal necessity, who really taught us how to train and trust teens with actual work.

In any event, Stan became a perennial participant in our South Carolina mission . He was, by far, the most beloved volunteer I ever took anywhere in 20 years of ministry. He received the ultimate honor when one year during devotions the kids decided he was too cool to be an adult, and they made him a lifetime member of the youth ministry. Stan beamed from ear to ear.

I don't know when it happened, but sometime during my first six years at SUMC our relationship, which had started more as a mentoring thing, became a true friendship. I'd tell him about stuff at work or home and he'd talk about his own family. Out of that conversation, I ended up meeting his son, Mark.

Mark had since long quit going to church, which I have to say bothered Stan. Mark, after I'm sure hearing Stan talk about SC incessantly, liked what he heard about the mission work we were doing, and one summer asked if he could come with us. I remember all week he kept telling us we were doing everything wrong (the nut doesn't fall far from the tree). By the time the day came for us go home, he was hooked. Not only did Mark go with us every year until I left in 1997, but he also started playing b-ball with a bunch of us over-the-hill guys from the church at the local armory. He'd even show up occasionally and sit with his folks in the 8:30am service, which delighted his Dad to no end. I loved having him become part of the congregation, and he too became a good friend.

Those were very good days.

After we moved, Stan never failed to keep in touch. He was one of the most loyal friends I've ever had. When we lived in Toledo, he'd drive up occasionally and take us out to lunch. When we moved to Bloomington, Illinois, he and Betty planned a trip that included stopping off so they could meet our newborn son. When we lived in Goshen, they'd stop over a couple of times a year to see us to see how the kids were doing. In turn, whenever I was back in Lima visiting my folks, I usually found myself at least one afternoon or evening visiting with Stan and Betty at their home, checking out whatever car or camper he had just bought at the auction in Fort Wayne (he owned a gazillion cars in his lifetime... my hero) and getting caught up on what his family was doing.

After we moved back in 2004, the dementia that Betty had started to experience very slowly in the late 90's had totally eroded her memory. Stan was taking care of her round the clock and it was wearing him down. He was losing weight at an alarming pace, and I noticed that his own memory was starting to fade. We still had a bowl of chili occasionally and my two oldest sons and I went with him a few times to fish, but after he made the hard choice to put Betty in the nursing home (the day he did so it was the only time, I think, I saw him break down) I saw him less and less. He spent most every hour of each day by her side.

By the time she died this past winter, Stan was in pretty bad shape. Fortunately his sons, and the rest of his family, were there for him. It couldn't have been easy for them to ease him out of driving and eventually out of the home he had built, but they didn't have much choice. He was fading quickly.

We had no idea here at the church over the last month how rapidly Stan was deteriorating. He apparently was in the hospital for three weeks in late May/early June, but despite our calling that hospital every day to ask if they had admitted any of our parishioners, they failed to notify us that he was in their care (which still makes me very upset). That's why I was so shocked when Mark showed up at church Sunday to tell me that Stan was dying.

I just didn't know.

By the time I visited him Sunday afternoon he was unconscious, heavy morphine masking the pain which comes from a failing liver. I wish I could have told him how much he meant to me and how his support and friendship had shaped my life. I wish I had the chance to groan and laugh at one of his terrible jokes, and tell the same tired stories about the South Carolina mission trips. I wish I knew whether or not when I read to him the 121 Psalm and told him I loved him that he heard me. I wish I knew that when I kissed him goodbye on his forehead he knew it was me. I hope as around his bed I told his sons that there was no way I could take a dime to do his funeral, he heard Mark crack back, "Well that makes it easier cause we weren't gonna pay you anyway." I hope on the inside it made him laugh.

But I won't fret too much about those things. He'd just scowl if he heard me saying this stuff, and tell me to worry about something important. That's just the way he was, and maybe it's the thing about him I'll miss the most. I'll just take comfort in knowing that now he is safely with his Savior, embracing again his lovely wife, and telling all kinds of fish stories with buddies long since past.

Rest in peace, old friend. I look forward to seeing you again someday, laughing as we once did, over lunch in the kitchen of our Father's house. Just keep a pot of chili on the stove, and an empty bowl on the table.

What Makes A Leader Great?

2009-06-16T11:35:00.009-04:00

Great article this morning on Kobe Bryant by The Sports Guy, Bill Simmons. Simmons, a lifelong Celtics fan, has a hate-love (cause it's mostly hate) for any or all Lakers, and Bryant seems to be at the top of that list. I think he does a great job of dissecting the player-as-teammate versus the player-as-performer (if that makes sense). Simmons decides that Kobe is a great individual performer - maybe as good as any other we'll ever see in the NBA - but way, way down on the list of great teammates. The upshot, though, is that in order to make the leap into the pantheon of the greatest whoever played, Simmons conjectures that Bryant must becoming both a great performer and teammate.

Is he right? Who knows. If the Lakers repeat, or win multiple championships with a nucleus of Bryant, Gasol, Odum, and Ariza it would be hard to deny Kobe his rightful place in NBA history. He'll need to perform at a high level to make this a possibility, but he'll have to modify his behavior if he wants these guys to stick around. How the rest of his teammates continue to respond to him, and he them, that will define whether or not Kobe is a great basketball player or the greatest.

That's what possessed me to take this work break (no writing today... got church stuff to get done). Simmons' article led me to ask the question, "What makes a leader great?".

The answer: talent, drive and trust.

We just returned late last week from conference where we spent a lot of time listening to Mike Slaughter and his associate pastor, Sue Nilson Kibbey, who are at the forefront of Ginghamsburg (we keep the "United Methodist" part in 6-point font at the bottom of the sign) Church.

When Mike arrived at what was GUMC, it was a typical tiny burg kind of church. Old building. 50-80 people. Hidden location. Biggest thing that happened each year was an annual chicken noodle dinner. Without Mike's arrival, the future of the church is probably like so many other UMC's across our conference, which is to say eventual closure.

Mike, though, didn't do this alone. While he's a dynamic preacher, and a leader without fear, he knew needed other people to make the enterprise go. Tom Tumblin was imported to give the staff shape and the church the structure necessary as the first Executive Pastor. Mike Nygren, a shop teacher/volunteer youth director, took the youth ministry to new heights on the premise that kids would rather make a difference than be entertained. Mike's wife, Carolyn, helped give the adult discipleship department shape and form. Mike, very early, jettisoned the hymnal, and while other UMC pastors were railing against contemporary worship, Mike embraced it, hiring guitarists and drummers instead of an organist.

It was the team Mike assembled around him coupled with his talent and drive that really helped propel 90 person GUMC to 1200 person GUMC.

But the tales that one heard about working at GUMC in those days were legendary. The average tenure for an employee was rumored to be 18 months. It was a pressure cooker.

The turning point, as I understand it, when Ginghamsburg went from hitting the ceiling at about 1000 to really taking off happened about 16-17 years into Slaughter's tenure. Tumblin left, replaced with somebody who ended up not being quite so able to keep things functioning under the remarkable pressure. Nygren left, throwing the youth ministry into chaos. Another leader who had been hired at some point mutinied against Slaughter's leadership, and left taking hundreds of people with him. The whole endeavor, if not in trouble, was at a crossroads. It was in crisis.

Enter Sue Kibbey.

I have strange perspective of GUMC. I actually interviewed there in 2003 for a Young Adult ministry position. This was after spending most of a week with Slaughter as a part of a thing they used to do where pastors paid an insane amount of money to just follow Mike around to see how he did things (my boss at the time opted to this, and somehow I ended up getting dragged along after immediately coming home from 10 days in Haiti). Coming off that experience it was my impression that Kibbey made, and makes, the place go. She oversees all the stuff Slaughter can't, and is focused on what she believes is going to make the place work.

I guess it goes without saying that I didn't fit into that vision. Probably about the tenth time Kibbey made it point to say that they weren't really looking for an ordained minister for that particular position I should have realized what was up. I would have reported to her, and she knew what she wanted. She's disciplined and smart enough to know that if the person doesn't fit into that vision, keep looking. Call it the blessing of a prayer request being answered with a "no". If we had ended up at Ginghamsburg in 2003, no way Joseph would have talked to me about coming to Shawnee in 2004.

(Strange how things work out. I can live with having never worked at GUMC. I would be sick if the chance to come back to Shawnee, and in effect, home to Lima would have been missed. I truly love serving this church.)

Mike's trust of Sue Kibbey, and in effect her way of conducting business, is part of the reason why GUMC keeps growing. The other part is Mike himself. He's a charasmatic communicator with a bulldog personality. Mike has vision for what he wants to create (a progressive evangelical church), has the talent to make it happen, and won't let the vision go. Kibbey is able to stack the blocks just right to make it happen.

Greatness comes only from talent, drive and trust.

Jordan ain't Jordan without , Jerry Krause, Phil Jackson and Scottie Pippen. Krause drafted and signed players that would compliment Jordan's skills. Jackson coaxed the hyper-selfish Jordan into becoming a teammate and trusting them in the "triangle" offense. Jackson too, dealt with other egos like Horace Grant and Dennis Rodman, doing just enough to harness their talent while allowing them to be themselves. Pippen did all the things Jordan needed him to do, setting an example for the rest of the team, and creating matchup nightmares for other coaches.

Without Jordan, there are no six championships in Chicago, but if Jordan doesn't trust everyone else his career is more like Allen Iverson's or Adrian Dantley's - lots of points scored but at the expense of the rest of the team. Maybe there's a championship or two, but given how good some of those Portland, Pheonix, and Jazz teams were in those days, it's not likely.

Will Bryant's teammates put up with his selfishness another year now that they have rings on their own fingers? If Bryant wants two or three championships, sans Shaq, he'll have to hope so... or start doing even more trusting than he does now.

Talent, drive and trust. That's what will separate the good from the great.

(A Rare) Ten Things I Think I Think

2009-06-15T11:12:00.003-04:00

1) Progress on the book continues, slowly but slowly. I've got about half the writing done, but am struggling with keeping focused. It's summer. It's sunny. The kids want to play and go swimming. Not to mention I'm trying to work through three or four major projects here at church (good stuff.... but time consuming). Would have made more progress last night, but a group in using the SRC pulled a fire alarm (or I should say a two-year old with the group) and the alarm system kept doing screwy things all afternoon and into the evening. That meant every 30 minutes the alarm company called to let me know that there was a fire at the church when there were no fires. Good gravy... the building is made mainly out of non-burnable substances. In any event, we'll just need to keep the old nose to the grindstone and gut this book out.

2) Part of the problem of book writing is that I'm not much of a writer. In high school, college, and seminary I wrote solely to provide ordered, maximum information. That's what essay writing for exams require. You'd think my writing would improve after years of doing sermons, but I haven't really written a sermon (outside of the six I had to do for our Beeson preaching classes) in over a decade. I found that when I wrote out sermons that I tended to look down a lot, which created issues as far as making contacts with the congregation. Going with a loose outline enables me to stay engaged with the people listening while at the same time forcing me to really learn the scriptural exegesis (fancy word for "in depth study").

Long story short - I don't write much.

To go from not writing much to writing a book is like jumping in the deep end of the pool in full motorcycle regalia - leathers, boots, and the works - and trying to swim. It's not easy. Nothing good is.... but to call what I'm writing "good" might be a tad over hyped. I think the research is pretty decent, but the package the research is in ain't Moby Dick. I'm glad we have a good editor.

3) Bad news for my Alma Mater, Lima Senior High School. The athletic conference they were in collapsed as members joined conferences closer to their home. Now, LSH, facing being an independent (which is a scheduling nightmare) has applied to become part of the Western Buckeye League, a local athletic conference it was once a member of before the school grew so large that it sought greener pastures (namely the Greater Miami Conference, which was made up mainly of Cincinnati area schools). The WBL denied the petition, leaving LSH in a lurch.

Personally I think the WBL has made a huge mistake. Quite frankly they would be a lot better off jettisoning a smaller school (WBL schools can be as small as Div III) or a school further away (like Van Wert or Kenton which are both hour long drives and hence more expensive to maintain as members). Even though LSH is the biggest school in the area, the only sport the rest of the league would have to worry about the Spartans dominating is basketball. The football program fell into shambles a decade ago. The school isn't much more than "competitive" (as opposed to "dominant") in any other sport.

And LSH is kind of our area's Oakland Raiders. It's the team the area schools love to hate. Every time they play a WBL school in the revenue generating sports (b-ball and football) they sell out because the WBL fans show up droves to see if they can beat the "inner-city school". Inclusion of LSH into the WBL makes sense. They should revisit this, pronto.

5) Great article in the USA Today on how a person's view of God shapes their neuro-pathways, and in effect how they view others. The gist of the article is that if you view God as loving and forgiving, you tend to be better adjusted and healthier than if you view God as angry and vengeful. Can't say this is all that big a surprise, but it is interesting that this is becoming an area of study for researchers trying to connect religious belief with brain function. I'll be interested to see the work on this subject as time passes. Should be fascinating.

6) As one of the last fourteen or fifteen NBA fans left in the country you might be wondering why I haven't yet written anything on the Laker's latest championship last night. The answer: still depressed at the collapse of the Cavs to the Magic. No way they should have lost that series. Who hits 48% from the three-point line for a series? Apparently a team that got hot and then promptly went cold in the Finals.

(sigh)

In any event, at least we got to see the Kobe and LeBron puppet commercials...

Too bad puppet Kobe is way cooler and less creepy than real Kobe.

7) We went to Annual Conference last week. To be honest, not much happened. There was preaching, bickering, voting, praying, and lots of ice cream eating. Here are some of my most memorable moments, in no particular order...

- Sue Nilson Kibbey, Executive Pastor at Ginghamsburg, doing a sermon that was about 50% produced by the video production department at her mega-church. Gotta love somebody preaching a sermon encouraging people to think out of the box using technology nobody else in the conference can replicate. I will now light myself on fire.

- Me getting into it with a member of the Good News Movement (conservative wing of the UMC) during registration (that was a heck of a way to kick things off) because he made the outrageous claim that the liberal wing of the church would be able to speak freely while the conservative wing would be muffled by the powers that be. Twenty years I've been going to conference and I can safely say that this has never been a problem. Both sides seem to say their fair share, while those of us in the middle just sit and listen. He fired back that I had no idea what I was talking about, and I replied, "So's your old lady, sissy boy."

Ok, so I made that last one up, but I did tell em to relax. He just went away grumpily.

- Barry DeShetler, former senior pastor to yours truly and current senior pastor at Kettering Christ UMC telling the story of how, as a young Elder, at Annual Conference each year they would present a "conference cane" to the oldest living pastor, and how someday he wanted to get that cane and still be preaching. He plans on going strong into his 70's, and is convinced he could still preach and lead someone 20 years younger "under the table". I believe him.

- Over conversation Bill Lyle of Greenville Evangelical UMC letting it slip that they congregation will, as a service project, will be painting the football stadium at the local high school. Some guys get all the luck.

Church + Ohio + Football = The greatest community service project, ever. They have enlisted over 280 volunteers from the congregations.

- Sue Kibbey explaining why they call them "servants" and not "volunteers" at Ginghamsburg. I was convinced. We'll now be calling for "servants". Makes sense.

- Mike Slaughter (once again, from Ginghamsburg, only he's the Lead Pastor) telling us that in the last election more than 300 people left their church, and how this happens every election year because he won't equate "Republican" with "Christian" in rural NW Ohio. Gutsy.

- Me driving around in our house golf cart (came with the rental), telling anybody who asked where I got the cart that "walking is for suckers".

- Me driving the golf cart constantly getting flagged down by people who thought I was driving one of the free shuttles for AC, and then taking them wherever it was they wanted to go without telling them they were mistaken.

- Bishop Ough asking AC "Are We General Motors?" in his Episcopal Address (one of the most daring I've ever heard). As he related time and time again how we UMC's are too much like GM and what would need to happen to fix it, you could have heard a pin drop. Change is coming my friends. Change is coming.

- All the ice cream cones eaten with various friends and collegues. Gotta love ice cream, friends, and collegues.

8) The boys are swimming for Westside Swim and Raquet Club this summer. It's the first year a Bucher hasn't been a member at Sherwood CC since 1981. Aimee likes the place cause it has a playground and more people she knows. The boys initially resisted the change, but after realizing how many of their friends swim at Westside soon came around. I thought Sherwood was fine, but if my family is cool with it, then so am I. A pool is a pool. Gotta leave here in a few minutes cause we have to make the trek down to Kenton tonight for the meet. Next Monday we go to Van Wert and their indoor nautatorium that's about a million degrees. Whatever. I like to watch the boys swim.

9) Sad news out of Celina... a ,mother of two teenager died of an overdose after chewing on a fentanyl patch provided to her by her husband. Now he's in jail facing a myriad of charges, and the top things off, it was the two children who found their parents passed out in the family room. The family had no apparent history of drug abuse and had ever been in trouble with the law. The community is still in shock.

If you don't know what fentanyl is, it's a drug that's inserted in a patch that applied to chronically ill patients. The drug is absorbed through the skin and can dull pain for up to three days. Nobody really knows why in the world this couple decided doing fentanyl would be a good idea. Did they have a secret drug problem? Was it really a suicide attempt? Did they do it on a lark?

Who knows.

This much we can say, though, sin - and you can't really call illegally buying a fentanyl patch to use recreationally anything else - is a killer. You can shield it from the world, sometimes even for a lifetime but in the end it will destroy you inside out. Unfortunately sometimes when the bottom drops out it can have catastrophic consequences.

Can't think of too many things more catastrophic than a dead mother, an incarcerated father, two reeling teenagers now living with family, and a community groping for answers. Very, very sad. I'm sure every prayer, particularly for the kids, would be appreciated.

10) Been listening to a lot of O.A.R. and Pink Floyd as I write my part of the book. Wonder what that means? I'm guessing it won't appeal to hippies or psychedelic drug users. Must mean the bands write music that's easy to ignore while a guy writes. That's how I wore out my "Genesis: Three Sides Live" cassette back in college. Apparently you can only write so many papers and study for x number of exams before the cassette says "no mas". MP3's have no "no mas" limit. So if you hear me quietly, mindlessly singing, "There's a road outside of Columbus, Ohio...." you'll know what's going on.

Ten Things I Think I Think

2009-05-11T11:23:00.002-04:00

1) You will get a new post every time I don't want to write anything for this book. Today would be one of those times. Call it a mental block. Call it laziness. Call it anything you want, just don't call me late to dinner.

2) Resident Family Digital Genius, CJ, has dug up this gem of a commercial. Low budget at its best. These are the ideas I wish I had.

Pure genius on a $65 budget. I'll be singing that jingle all day.

3) Worshiped yesterday at Philippian Missionary Baptist where the Rev. Dr. B Lamont Montford was on fire yesterday. In all seriousness that might have been the most challenging, in-your-face, Mothers Day sermon I'll ever hear in my life. A powerful sermon from a guy whose own mother was a drug-addicted prostitute who was murdered at a young age. It was an honor to be there. A true honor.... although at a certain point in the service, I was sitting in the back of the sanctuary, and upon realizing I was there, Lamont invited me to come sit up on the platform with him. Unfortunately, it meant that another guy up on the platform lost his seat, which I still feel terrible about. Things work differently in predominantly black congregations.

4) Was told that yesterday's service here at Shawnee UMC was also very powerful. Testimony was given by a woman who is now a social worker who as a teenager gave a child up for adoption. Also heard from a teenager who lives here locally who realized a couple of years ago just how loved she is not only by her adopted mother, but by her biological mother who gave her up in the hope she would have a better future. Kind of a different take that Charlotte Hefner, our associate pastor, decided on for Mothers Day, but that's why we love her. Nobody's better at getting people to look at things from a different perspective. Here's the link for our podcasts. I'm sure at some point soon this week's service will be posted if there weren't recording issues (which we sometimes have). Just keep your eyes peeled.

5) I am having a hard time moving forward on this book regarding leadership transitions (obviously, cause I'm killing time here to avoid killing time there). Part of the issue is just feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand. In a lot of ways I just feel like I'm over my head. But the first and foremost issue is that there's a lot of information to sort through, and not a lot of time. I was up until 2am last night simply sorting out the various learnings I think have been uncovered by the research, and there are many.

One of the most important, for example, is that boards and bureaucracies have to show a lot of self-restraint in order to make a leadership transition work. Because these folks generally have a lot of power, the inclination, particularly as it relates to finding new leadership, is to use it. Once all involved agree on a transition process, this biggest challenge often faced is getting the board to keep their hands to themselves, and trust the process.

At one of the churches, for example, a board member who vehemently opposed doing a transition from a senior leader to one of the associate leaders, had to be asked by the rest of the board to resign when he simply wouldn't back down even after the decision had been made. The particular board member was convinced that the only way a church should receive a new senior leader was in the aftermath of doing the more traditional "national search" and "call" process where resumes were solicited, candidates interviewed, trial sermons given, and the congregation getting the final vote. So married was he to the idea of the traditional "call" process that the stink he began to create convinced the rest of the board that he really didn't support the direction of the church, period, so they let him go.

In many cases, particularly in church settings, the general rule of thumb is for boards to make stink makers happy. Whether or not a leadership board has the stomach to follow through with a non-traditional leadership transition is a big question that should be asked by themselves and the senior leader before they try to engage the process.

6) When do you know the economy is bad? When every quartet, band, actor, and choir is sending you countless emails asking to come play at your church. I can't remember a six month span where I've been solicited more by artists. It must really be lean out there. Southern Gospel quartets, guys who can recite the entire Gospel of John, a female singer who sings ACR music and gives her testimony about her life as a gypsy, numerous hard-core speed metal/punk/r&b/alternative Christian rock bands, a Christian motivational speaker who juggles, countless choirs from all over the world..... everybody just wants meals and a free will offering. Just another sign that the church is battening down the hatches in a difficult economy.

7) Cleaned Max's room with him Saturday (for Mothers Day), and realized that my son suffers from the same malady I do: Pack-Rat-Pile-Making-itus. What's more, its genetic. You ought to see my dad's office. Everytime I get depressed about mine, I just go see his and I feel much better about my organizational ability. Let's hope that there's steady improvement generationally as we continue to sit on Max to keep his things in order. There's still hope for him. For Dad and I, like Red from "Shawshank Redemption", we're institutionalized. We can't make it on the outside of pack rate pile making.

Or maybe, then again, there might still be hope for us pile makers after all. In any event I'll do what I can to help my son.

8) My excitement over my own discovery of Ben Harper only grows. You will be... I will be... forgiven:

9) I'll tell you where amazing is gonna happen this year in the NBA playoffs. Wherever this guy is. He's on a mission.

10) Finally, to wrap this up, not only is there apparently a Red House commercial, but also a behind the scenes video of the making of the the Red House commercial. The internet at its finest.

I too enjoy extending credit to all people. On that note, I hope you have a nice day.

Ramblins And Such....

2009-05-08T13:17:00.007-04:00

- The "Blessing of the Bikes" is over, and it was fantastic. Beautiful weather, 1300 people, 800 bikes, great tunes, and grace made it a morning to remember. Our service may not be the biggest Biker Blessing, but I am convinced it is the best. Look for it the first Sunday of next May. You won't want to miss it.

Here, by the way, are two the "mockumercials" we showed as a part of the service that day. For the unwashed, there is more than a little bit of rivalry between the owners of various makes of motorcycles. Let's just say that in these parts, Harleys and Hondas rule the roost. Us Kawasaki owners are the oppressed minority subject to much ridicule.

Joseph Bishman, our former senior pastor, was in the audience for this one. Fortunately, he has a pretty good sense of humor.

Special thanks to CJ Dugan, the family digital genius, for his editing work.

- I'm officially on the hook to write a book on my dissertation topic (speaking of which, I should be beating that buggar out right now... let's call this a creative genius break) with Bob Russell, whose web site is right here. More on this as things kind of come to fruition over the next three or four weeks (which is my deadline).

I can't say that I really wanted to get into something like this. On a number of occasions the past three years I've been told I should turn this research into a book, but 1) I've always kinda thought that sounded like more work than I wanted to do, 2) wouldn't be all that lucrative because (well let's face it) books by pastors leading midsize mainline congregations in small midwestern communities aren't exactly flying off the shelves, and 3) I had no idea where to begin. It wasn't until I was in Louisville to interview Bob Russell (among others) that someone who seemed somewhat serious about this project actually pursued me with the idea we do something together. This mysterious third party, the proprietor of "Ministers Label Publishing" is a young go-getter who has enough gumption and giddy-up for all three of us. He's the force behind the project, cracking the whip to keep me moving.

Well, cracking a whip and writing a check. That's pretty much what it takes.

- Gotta love the Cavs right now. They say the greatest story nobody has talked about in the NBA season is the relationship the teammates on the Cavaliers have with one another. In this day's NBA, where everyone has a posse (albeit the bigger the contract, the bigger the posse), its unusual for a team when its on the road to eat together, or catch a movie together. Normally they all go their separate ways, and see one another at the arena a few hours before game time. But the word on the street is the cheerleading you see LeBron doing on the bench is no act. Unlike Michael Jordan (champion basketball player... not-so-champion teammate who pretty much destroyed both Brad Seller's and Kwame Brown's confidence single-handedly) or Kobe Bryant (when Bryant goes to sit on the bench if you watch his teammates its almost like they're willing him to sit somewhere not next to them... I think he scares the crap out them) who begrudgingly worked with the rest of the team, LeBron is truly into the concept of "teamwork". I mean, this is a guy who has "loyalty" tattooed on one rib-cage and and "family" on the other. He still runs around with the same three guys who were his best friends in high school, the same high school he accepted his MVP award at earlier next week. The man likes having deep roots.

Which is to say, "Eat Your Heart Out NYC". No way LeBron leaves Cleveland. He'll be a global icon from the shores of Lake Erie.

- What's it say that right now I'm listening to a lot of Pink Floyd? Especially when for the longest time I haven't been able to stand Pink Floyd. We had a guy back at Stanton Hall, freshman year at Miami, who used to blast Pink Floyd out of his room at all hours day and night. A couple of us snuck in, took his "Dark Side of the Moon" CD and buried in the flowerbeds not far from our dining hall. After much cussing and threatening, he had a replacement copy by the end of the day. For all I know now there's a Pink Floyd Tree growing next Hughes Dining Hall. The music wasn't worth retrieving. Now, the Floyd rings out the speakers in office and I'm not even using drugs while marveling how amazing my hand is, which is always how I thought you had to be to stomach their so-called music. Now I'm singing along with Roger Waters... "tongue tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit am I". Must have to be 40 to appreciate these guys. That's all I can figure.

- Got an email from an old friend, Steve, who was in Columbus last weekend to run a "half-marathon" with two of our mutual friends, John and Wayne. He wants me to run with them next year (given that he's seen me recently, "with them" meaning that while they run 13 miles I do the 5k fun run). Steve is one of my favorite people, and always had a unique way with words. Here's an excerpt of his invite for next year's festivities:

"Anyhow, you'll be done dinking around with your doctorate stuff before you know it and we want you to join us next yr but you can do the 5k fun run. You gotta get in shape or your gonna have a grabber before your 50. Instead of biking, get all those harley/honda boys to get in shape. Half the country is a lard ass and adding to our health care costs. I imagine in your part of the country its probably 2/3 are over weight and Obama aint gonna fix it for 'em. Gotta go, take care

Don't wanna have a "grabber" anytime soon, so I suppose back up on the treadmill I will drag my "lard ass". I surely would run next year if it meant I could see all those guys.

Maybe its just time passing (or the Facebook updates by Tyler Hoops, a young parishonier, about his Miami experience) but I look back on my collegiate experience with even more relish and nostalgia now more than ever. John plinking around on his guitar. Chuck chucking class to play Bards Tale (until they kicked him out of school). Countless hours playing basketball with Brett and Wayne (and I really, really miss playing ball with those guys). Steve regailing us with stories from his past life as a sportsware salesman/dump truck owner/man about town. Wheeler's own brand of unique humor as he re-lived that day's lecture by B.H. Smith. The cast of characters who seemed to constantly pass through Mike and I's dorm room: Paul, Star, Mel, The Pickerington Gang, Laura.... the list goes on and on. Late night at Saloon and a burger at Chuck's. My old radio show at WMSR. Even the rotten stuff like cramming for finals I can chuckle at now (although I wouldn't go through that again for all the tea in Greece).

All that and young love with my own beloved Aimee. Young love before kids and obligations and responsibilities and the constant fatigue you feel no matter how much rest you try to get. Great days. Great, great days.

Thus, if it's at all possible schedule-wise, you are on Steve Skeels. I'll be in Columbus to run that 5k as long as we can all go out afterword and beat the stories of the past into the ground. I'd like that a lot.

(By the way, nobody would be prouder that I'm shoving back the completion date for my doctorate so that I can make money writing a book than Steve. I may even get a free stock tip or a story about a guy who tried to outmanuver him in some business negotiation as a reward for my mercenary ways.)

- If you've got the time and ability, you gotta listen to new album "White Lies for Dark Times" by "Ben Harper and the Relentless 7". Great stuff. YouTube won't let you embed, but here's the video for "Shimmer and Shine"... and indeed it does take 100 miles of love to heal a mile of pain.

- Special thanks to Todd and Pam Stallkamp for hosting me whilst I finish up my doctoral dissertation research work in Tucson last week. The parents of Eric the Buckeye informed me that their son loved a particular snackfood so much that they ended up calling him "Mr. Ho Ho".

So, I wonder... is it "Mr. Ho Ho", or "Dr. Ho Ho" now?

In any event, thanks for a soft bed, witty conversation, great cups of coffee, a lovely meal at El Charro, and garage space for my rented Harley Electra Glide (under the auspice that they wanted to keep it protected from the elements.... I just think they didn't want to scare the neighbors into thinking Todd had joined the Hells Angels).

Also thanks to Pantano Christian Church for their cooperation so I could cram a bunch of interviews into too short a time period. Wish I had more time to hang out with that bunch. Undoubtly they were the happiest and most accomidating staff I met during my travels. Blessing to Glen Elliot and his staff as they attempt to reach their corner of the American Southwest.

- Here's the latest from Brother Esq. With his hard-earned attorney's fees he bought a smoker, and promptly bought 25 pounds of brisket to break it in. Also, Sammy, my nephew, had an earache this week, meaning Brother Esq. got to squeeze in 3 hours of sleep before appearing at an early-morning hearing (welcome to parenthood, Brother). He also informed me that if you win the lottery and are paid in the form of a long-term annuity, that before you can sell the annuity to one of those folks who advertise that they buy these things for pennies on the dollar in the wee hours of the morning (because lottery winner don't apparently need to sleep), you have to receive permission in a court of common pleas before you make the sale. Apparently JG Wentworth and the lot of those snake-oil salesmen were paying in some cases less than 50 cents on the dollar, and the complaints were so many that Ohio General Assembly passed a law that basically protects people from themselves.

The lesson, as always, the lottery is for suckers. Well, that and there seems to be no end to the ways attorneys can make money.

- Pray for SUMC pillar, Buzz Alder. He's having hip replacement surgery today.

Be good. See you again in another month.

My New Screenplay

2009-04-01T15:27:00.000-04:00

Well, here it is. The beginnings of what I hope to be a great adventure. It all started with a phone call from a friend in the entertainment industry who reads the blog, and liked one particular post I wrote a couple of years ago. He forwarded it to a friend who is a producer, and now they want me to expand it to a full screenplay! Unbelievable! I'm so excited I'm using all exclamation points!!!

So what's it about? Well, here it goes....

A 40-ish pastor and father wakes up one day to realize that it's April Fools Day and decides to make up something ridiculous like writing a screenplay for a movie in Hollywood to fool all his Facebook friends and now is laughing hysterically as the number of visits to his blog increase dramatically today.

You people are too easy.

Have a nice April Fools Day.

8 Things I Think I Think (and they might the last 8 for awhile)

2009-03-16T17:58:00.007-04:00

1) I know posts haven't been coming fast or furiously lately, but they're about to become as frequent as Big Ten Basketball Championships at Northwestern. This weekend I received the unsettling news that the Beeson Center at Asbury Theological Seminary which funds my fellowship is for all intensive purposes, broke. There's still money in the foundation (millions one would assume) but the language of foundation reads that none of the principle funds of the foundation may be allocated. With the stock market tanking, only the principle will remain as of June 30th (estimated), and as such the center will essentially go into a state of suspended animation for 18 months.

The upshot of this for me was that I had arranged with my adviser to hand in my work in late June/early July, but now if I wait that long, the necessary funds to pay for my graduation and associated fees won't be available, leaving me with $2500-3000 bill before I can collect my degree. Hence, somehow, I've got to arrange graduating in May with the stipulation that all work will be handed in and ready to go by early June.

To complicate matters further, I've got research left to do on three churches (I'm doing a multi-site case study of 10 different churches that did a planned pastoral succession, involving the in-house transition of an associate pastor to a senior pastor role). One is half-done. The other will be done in a couple of weeks. The third, though, involves a United Methodist Church in the Orlando area that imploded last fall. Hence, now I have to find a new church to fill the void... fast. Needless to say, my schedule, which hinged upon not having to really get back into the saddle until after Easter, has moved up dramatically.

I'm just another casualty of the Great Recession. Uncle Frank must have had a lot of GM stock.

2) To be honest, I've not been motivated to complete this dissertation. Earning a Doctorate of Ministry will amount to very little in real terms personally. DMin's don't qualify you to teach in any institution, including a seminary or Bible college (you need PhD for that work). It doesn't qualify you to do anything new denominationally. It's really just a professional and personal improvement degree. And since I've done just about all the work, I've profited personally and professionally immensely already. The diploma will add little else, other than doctoral stripes to my robe.

I did this initially because my senior pastor, at the time, told me I wasn't ready to lead a church and I needed to do work on a degree in church leadership so I'd be more prepared to take the reigns. I had thought that at some point maybe of working on a doctorate, but at the time I just wanted to do our pastoral transition, move into the lead chair, and put my energies to making that work. But, he insisted, got the DS involved, and next thing I knew I was moving to Wilmore in June 2006. Strangely enough, by the time we were about to move, my senior pastor had recanted his early assertion about my leadership ability, and I think would have been glad to have made the transition in September 2006 but by then papers had been signed, and this train was leaving the station.

Now, I wouldn't mind jumping off the train. It's been a great journey. More than enough to justify the time spent. So, why stay on?

I have four sons, two of which will always remember our Asbury experience fondly, and ten years from now I don't want one of them quitting a degree because their old man did. Just gotta suck it up and summon the will and desire to bring this puppy home even though from a professional position all it does is enable me to put "Dr." before my name on the church bulletin.

Hopefully, the last research church will be in Tuscon where I can rent a motorcycle instead of a car while I'm out there. One last perk before the stress goes to 11.

3) Some folks have been asking how the new service on Saturday night has been going. I'd have to say that at this point we're pleased, but the jury is still out as to whether or not we can sustain it over the long term. We'll have a discussion on the matter in various quarters here at the church. Staff are telling me what they need. Finance is telling me what we can afford. Staff-Parish are weighing out what the ramifications will be long term bringing on new staff. It's a process.

The big question, personally, is whether or not over the long term I am able to preach every Saturday night and Sunday morning without eventually losing my edge. We're not a Granger Community Church or a Ginghamsburg Church where there are a staff of teaching pastors. There's just Charlotte and I, and while she does a fine job when called upon, she has a pretty heavy load of other responsibilities she needs to put her mind to completing. Right now I'm on a pace to about 40-44 out of the 52 weeks this year, and since I haven't learned healthier work patterns I'm currently working seven day weeks... which is stupid and can't last. Another full-time teaching pastor, however, is a huge expense. It would be a giant leap of faith, or a singular act of financial irresponsibility for us. Maybe its a leap need, particularly if the steady stream of new people coming to us continues.

Lots of questions. Few answers. Your prayers are appreciated.

4) Well its the end of the NBA Fantasy League season and our playoffs are upon us. Currently in what has been the closest season yet, Brother Esq yet again leads the league by a paltry game-and-a-half. And who's in second but his better looking but obviously less-Fantasy skilled brother. Our teams are about as even as they can be. His rebounds better, but mine tends to score more. He's had his share of serious injuries (Michael Redd being the most significant), as have I (Manu Ginobelli and Tracy McGrady), but yet we soldier on. I've won the regular season a couple of times, but never the whole shebang. Will this be the year? Will his thriving law practice and addition of a child be enough of a distraction to keep Brother Esq from making that one additional change needed to put him over the top?

Eh... he'll probably just sue me if I win.

By the way, what do you call twenty-five lawyers parachuting out of a plane? Skeet

(It's on. Winner take all and no mercy. You want a sermon, come to church on Sunday. I'm here to play Fantasy Basketball.)

5) A big congrats to pastoral colleague and old high school buddy, Eric (Bubba) Rummel, who will be staying at his church in Bluffton upon graduation from seminary to become the first full-time pastor in that congregation's history. As the ranks swell in the pews of the once-sleepy UCC church (maybe the only growing UCC church in the state..... or midwest... or possibly the universe) the need for a full-time pastor to do visitation, preach, teach, surf the internet, and drink copious amounts of coffee is now deemed necessary. Can't think of a better guy than Bubba to fit the bill.

He called to thank me for my "wisdom" in navigating the murky seas of pastoral ministry while also working on his MDiv at United Theological Seminary, but the wisdom offered was minimal, at best. Bubba grew up in the home of a very conservative pastor, and while theologically they don't see eye to eye, I think he picked up how to do certain aspects of ministry simply by watching his old man.

Bubba also spent a lot of time playing bass for Apostle Leon Stutzman at the now defunct Liberty Christian Temple here in Lima.

(As an aside, he's a heck of a musician. We tried to convince him to apply to the Conservatory at Indiana University back in the day, but the thought of more school literally made him ill. Now I think he's on the verge of earning a second Master's degree. How ironic is that? Just goes to show all my high school readers out there, that just because your grades might stink doesn't mean you aren't higher academic material. It just means you're a lazy punk who hasn't figured out that education is a ticket to do whatever it is you wanna do with your life. Wise up, or end up with multiple degrees and crap load of debt as you shuffle job, school and family at the age of 40. You can survive it, and maybe even be better for it, but ain't no picnic. Consider yourself warned.)

His experience with Apostle Leon, which I think once left him jaded when it came to faith, has been turned by he and the Lord into a formative experience for discovering what a pastor should be. While Leon was notorious for fleecing the flock with great music and preaching that sounded much more holy than it was, Bubba is genuine man of God. Which is to say that his primary concern is for his people, his community, and somehow moving them closer to Kingdom of Heaven. Not easy work done by an imperfect guy, but needed nonetheless.

So, if you are reading this Rev. Bubba, you are welcome, my friend, for whatever guidance you might have received from me. I suspect you've more survived my advice than profited from it. At least my old robe fits. Wear it with pride.

6) Been a bit down in the dumps the past few weeks. A good friend of mine recently surrendered his credentials to his Bishop, which is just United Methodist-speak for "he messed up bad and isn't a pastor anymore". I don't know the details, which aren't any of my business, but I don't need to. Pastors don't surrender credentials they slaved to earn for no good reason. The big downer of all us is that this is for me another instance of "this is the last person you'd ever expect to screw up royally" I've had to witness during my pastoral tenure. Another person I looked up to who, for whatever reason, succumbed to the temptation or boredom or feeling of unworthiness or rebellion or whatever it is that compels pastors to cut corners and take whatever it is (liberties? a member of the opposite sex? cash? who knows) that isn't his or hers.

If I know my friend I'm sure he'd chalk it up to the power of Satan and his need to tear down whatever is good or right. That's the side of the theological plate he bats from. But while I don't discount the existence of a real, tangible evil, coming out of my own experience in this gig, I suspect that most pastors fall less due to a tempting devil, and more out of a sense of their own entitlement. Let enough people tell you that your wonderful, and believe it, and you are setting yourself up for a heap of trouble.

In meeting so many different pastors over the past three years, I've observed, in my humble opinion, that too many churches exalt their leaders to a place they should not be, and too many pastors buy the hype. For example, you find no greater amount of ego than the ego you encounter at a meeting of big-time pastors or when you go visit a pastor a huge church. I used to think it was just me and my own insecurity, the lowly associate pastor in the presence of greatness. But with time I've grown to realize that the traits that tend to attract people and build large congregations are not necessarily the kind of traits, or create the kind of Christian movement, that it seemed like Jesus envisioned.

We walk the line I think, those of us who preach to hundreds or thousands, or long to, of becoming MasterLeaders as opposed to ServantLeaders. Or rather, to lead like a CEO where the bottom line is the bottom line in every aspect of church ministry, as opposed to leading in such a way that inspires people to lead by picking up a shovel or ladle or a Bible in an attitude of grace as they begin to shepherd others looking for direction.

Probably the moment you begin you thinking you deserve "it", whatever "it" is, you're in danger of using the movement, as opposed to being a servant of movement. In any event, while disappointed, I still love my friend. There but by the grace of God go I. To believe anything else will simply fly in the face of that grace.

7) One of the interesting outcomes of my friend's credential surrender is that it has but all the conversations we had together in an entirely different light. Older and wiser, he always told me that in this ministry gig that there was a relationship between the amount of success (in whatever terms you want to define it) a church experiences and the degree with which it is bombarded by evil spirits to derail said "success". I won't pretend to understand the intricacies of otherworldly entities. All I know is when I heard him speak, I heard Biggie say...

Mo money? Mo problems.

When I was appointed at Goshen First, and our satellite campus, The Life Center, was taking off, you would have thought it would have been the most positive of all ministry experiences. Literally hundreds of new people coming out of the woodwork to join us at the church. But with all the added people came all kinds of issues.

People we had but assimilation we lacked. People weren't getting involved or connected with others, and there were so many of them that it was impossible to know who was sticking around at their new church home, and who wasn't. I remember one day eating with my family at a local restaurant in Goshen, and I saw a woman who I remembered had been part of a huge new member class. I went up to her to say hi, and upon asking how she liked the church, found out she was going somewhere else. That was just one example of dozens of issues we were ill-equipped to deal with. Raging jealousy and distrust among those at our older campus of the new one.... staff carping with one another.... a lack of resources of all kinds... shortages of volunteers... it was nuts. Couple that with the stress and depression that can come as problems crop up and aren't being solved, and you get a recipe for disaster.

Now, if you want to call that us being assaulted by Satan, be my guest. I won't argue. I have a hefty appreciation and respect for all things spiritual. But looking back now, I'd say we were pretty unprepared as a congregation for the onslaught of issues doubling in size overnight presents. Church leadership was so far out of their comfort zone that it became impossible to figure what had to be done to find the new "comfort zone". Instead, we were imploding, effectively organizing the "Back to Egypt" Committee And as things started going askew, so did we.

I'll never forget, at kind of the bottom of the mess, the Goshen First staff went on retreat to our senior pastor's cabin near Boyne Falls, Michigan. Under the summer sun on the back porch overlooking Lake Louise, after months of harboring increasing resentment and frustration, we humbled ourselves and started not only communicating with one another, but we also earnestly sought guidance to pull us out of the various dilemmas we had fallen into. I won't say everything got solved or that everything was forgiven, but as the Fall season neared we were a lot more balanced. I think we were just starting to figure out how to lead a large church when our leader fell ill and passed away that following winter.

Whether you understood that situation like the other associate pastor at the time did and my recently de-frocked friend does as spiritual warfare, or as a situation where we had become undisciplined and out of alignment as a leadership team and a community of faith, in either case prayer, humility, a little honesty, and a willingness to ask questions of others was serving us well. That Fall was a good one, promising great things to come. I wish we could have seen what was coming next.

(sigh)

All that to say that maybe the issue, whether things are going well, not so well, or just going is remaining grounded, humble, disciplined, and rooted in the grace and mercy of the Living God. Fail this and you'll be toast. And it doesn't matter if I'm talking about ministry or if you're a hedge trader on Wall Street... lose focus and humility and you run the risk of ending up like Jim Swaggart or Bernie Madoff - hiding behind a thin facade of what you want others to see.

8) Well that's about it. Don't know when I'll get to this again. Quickly on the family front, Max just finished winter swim with a nice performance at our regional swim championships. Xavier is a monkey in a local production of "The Jungle Book". Eli is loving the warm weather and practically living outside. Toby is climbing and running, because running is faster than walking. Aimee is losing her mind, busy with all the boys and a growing business. And as for I, well, I guess its back to the academic grindstone.

See you later. May the good news be yours.

I Am Going To Take A Nap

2009-03-01T15:05:00.002-05:00

My wife says that my blog posts are too long. That instead of ten things I think I think, I should do one or two. She's the web expert, and probably is right. The last post took a good portion of a day, and a very, very late night to put together. One or two things would have been much better choice.

Now, though, she's telling me I need to make a much shorter post of just a few paragraphs as kind of a lure to keep everyone reading. Problem is, I said everything I had to say in my last ten things. She told me that was no excuse, and to write about what I'm thinking right now.

Well, right now, I want to take a nap. Naps are good. They are beneficial for the soul. They cost little more than an hour or two of time. I like naps.

In any case, now I'm sure you can't wait until my next post. Probably be scores of you gathering around the water cooler tomorrow talking about what I wrote about today.

"Man, I like naps too."

"Naps rule."

"I wish I could take more naps."

"Boy, those Spanish really have it figured out. Siesta!"

There. Got you started. Enjoy. I'm off to take a nap.

Siesta!!!