This summer, I’ve been washing lots of sheets and towels. (Wait . . . I promise, this blog is not about my personal hygiene.) With our children all in college and beyond, our house is less their “home” and more their “home base.” Between family and friends, this summer we have had an additional 8 people sleeping in various beds at various times. This flux of people in and out of our house has been fun, and it has also meant that I’ve been washing sheets and towels with great frequency. Along the way, I have learned something: It is much easier to put clean sheets on a bed right after a guest leaves than to wait until a new guest is arriving. Being prepared for a guest at all times means that it is okay when I wake up in the morning and find an extra body in a bed that wasn’t there the night before.
One of the most important things a church can do is be prepared for guests at all times. I received an email this morning that broke my heart. A first-time visitor took the time to write me an email, describing why her first visit to our church would be her last visit. She did NOT mention the greeters, the coffee and donuts, the worship service, or the sermon. The thing that will keep her from coming back is the behavior of those persons sitting near her. They talked to each other (apparently, a whole lot) and not to her. It was not only that their conversation disrupted her ability to worship, but that she felt ignored after a polite comment to them. There is not a sermon in the world that is powerful enough to overcome that type of personal hurt.
The most dangerous thing that a church can be is “The Friendliest Church in the World . . . to Each Other.” I understand the temptation. I love church people, and I love seeing my church friends. It is definitely my preference to talk to people I know and like and haven’t seen for a week. Strangers can be, well, strange. And yet . . . I serve an institution that has a peculiar mission. We don’t exist for our members, but we exist for the people who do not know who we are. We exist for the people who walk in our doors and don’t know a soul. We exist for the people who drive past our building daily and aren’t sure why they’re feeling a glimpse of hope. We exist for the people who think that they wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.
I feel confident that the author of this email will be fine. If she feels invested enough in her search for a church home that she took the time to seek out my email address and compose a thoughtful message to me about her experience, she will persevere until she finds the right church for her. I am saddened, though, that we as a church failed to be ready for company. Our mission, while peculiar, is too important to ignore.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Spirit
Last week was one of the most challenging sermons of the year. It was Pentecost, the day which we celebrate the coming of the Holy Spirit. The challenge, of course, is to speak aloud about the still, small voice that works within; to name the nudges; and to try to describe that part of God which is, by definition, indescribable. I spoke as best as I could about those things which are beyond words.
This week, I saw the power of the Holy Spirit in action. A member of my church had been working on a mission project last year and became aware of a need. Someone else was more gifted to fulfill that need, and so he thought nothing more about it. Until the nudges started. He sensed that the Holy Spirit was asking him to fulfill that need himself, to create something that he was completely untrained to create. After talking to his spouse and praying some more, he set out to do this task. He went to one place to get advice and supplies. The response: “There is no way you can do this without taking many of our classes over a long period of time.” He prayed some more and went somewhere else. This time, he heard, “Sure, you can do this.”
Yesterday, I stood in front of the completed project. It is incredible, by any standard of expertise. I have no doubt that it will change lives. I have a hunch it changed mine, just to be reminded of what the Holy Spirit can do when we pay attention. And say yes.
Some sermons are spoken with words. Often, the most powerful sermons are seen with actions.
This week, I saw the power of the Holy Spirit in action. A member of my church had been working on a mission project last year and became aware of a need. Someone else was more gifted to fulfill that need, and so he thought nothing more about it. Until the nudges started. He sensed that the Holy Spirit was asking him to fulfill that need himself, to create something that he was completely untrained to create. After talking to his spouse and praying some more, he set out to do this task. He went to one place to get advice and supplies. The response: “There is no way you can do this without taking many of our classes over a long period of time.” He prayed some more and went somewhere else. This time, he heard, “Sure, you can do this.”
Yesterday, I stood in front of the completed project. It is incredible, by any standard of expertise. I have no doubt that it will change lives. I have a hunch it changed mine, just to be reminded of what the Holy Spirit can do when we pay attention. And say yes.
Some sermons are spoken with words. Often, the most powerful sermons are seen with actions.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Leaders
Last night was an “oops” moment for me. (I hate those.) It was time for us to elect our church leaders for the 2011-2012 church year, a task that must be accomplished by a formal “Charge Conference.” I had been duly authorized by the DS to preside at this piece of official Methodism, and our agenda was limited –by church law, no less- to only the 1 item that had been announced. The Nominating Committee had done their work well, and we have a great set of incoming officers. My goal was to call the meeting to order, vote, and adjourn the meeting, so that we could resume the “normal programming” of our regular Church Council meeting. Which I did, in less than 5 minutes- my type of Charge Conference!
Except- that a handful of people went home after the Charge Conference. I had not thought about the fact that there were people who would show up for this part of the meeting alone. I had assumed that everyone else would share my own discomfort with officialdom. I was planning to thank the outgoing officers and welcome the incoming leaders at the end of the Church Council meeting, and so this faithful handful of people didn’t get to a chance to be a part of this well-deserved thanks. That oversight was my mistake, as thanks should always be extended as far and as wide as possible.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a leader in the church. The average church member doesn’t care what color we paint the walls, who will repair the a/c, who does the hiring, or who signs the checks. Nor should they have to. They DO care that these things be done correctly, and in line with our vision and values. But they don’t want to come to worship on Sunday mornings and be engaged in a congregational discussion of paint color. A “leader” in the church is the person who chooses to give of themselves and their time to care about these things on behalf of the congregation. Leaders choose to get together on weeknights to talk about which bank offers the best interest rates and what to do when Christmas falls on a Sunday and what to do about the siding on the building. It’s not particularly glamorous, nor does it always feel “spiritual.” And yet I am so deeply grateful to all of those who choose to give of themselves in this way.
Being a leader in church also means representing the church to all of the many places that a pastor cannot be. When a group of people is talking after worship or choir or Bible study about a question or a concern, a leader is the one who says, “Let me tell you how that decision was made,” or “You’re raising a good question, let me be the one to find out the answer and get back to you.” To be a church leader means that you forfeit the right to engage in gossip or bickering, because you have committed to be part of the solution to whatever challenges arise. You have chosen to focus on the future and to seek God’s guidance along with the rest of us.
Experts will tell you that there are many types of leaders. Often, the most important leaders do not hold elected office. They are the ones to whom all the eyes in the room turn when a new initiative is announced or a difficult decision needs to be made. FUMC is blessed with leaders of this type whose wonderful hearts ensure that we continue to move forward.
FUMC is blessed also with a strong group of leaders who have agreed to oversee the administrative affairs of the church. Next week, we are getting together at my house for 4 hours. My goal is to build community and trust, in addition to doing some training and study together. We have a great year ahead of us, and FUMC will be a better place because of these leaders. For which I am thankful. And I intend to say so at every opportunity I can!
Except- that a handful of people went home after the Charge Conference. I had not thought about the fact that there were people who would show up for this part of the meeting alone. I had assumed that everyone else would share my own discomfort with officialdom. I was planning to thank the outgoing officers and welcome the incoming leaders at the end of the Church Council meeting, and so this faithful handful of people didn’t get to a chance to be a part of this well-deserved thanks. That oversight was my mistake, as thanks should always be extended as far and as wide as possible.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a leader in the church. The average church member doesn’t care what color we paint the walls, who will repair the a/c, who does the hiring, or who signs the checks. Nor should they have to. They DO care that these things be done correctly, and in line with our vision and values. But they don’t want to come to worship on Sunday mornings and be engaged in a congregational discussion of paint color. A “leader” in the church is the person who chooses to give of themselves and their time to care about these things on behalf of the congregation. Leaders choose to get together on weeknights to talk about which bank offers the best interest rates and what to do when Christmas falls on a Sunday and what to do about the siding on the building. It’s not particularly glamorous, nor does it always feel “spiritual.” And yet I am so deeply grateful to all of those who choose to give of themselves in this way.
Being a leader in church also means representing the church to all of the many places that a pastor cannot be. When a group of people is talking after worship or choir or Bible study about a question or a concern, a leader is the one who says, “Let me tell you how that decision was made,” or “You’re raising a good question, let me be the one to find out the answer and get back to you.” To be a church leader means that you forfeit the right to engage in gossip or bickering, because you have committed to be part of the solution to whatever challenges arise. You have chosen to focus on the future and to seek God’s guidance along with the rest of us.
Experts will tell you that there are many types of leaders. Often, the most important leaders do not hold elected office. They are the ones to whom all the eyes in the room turn when a new initiative is announced or a difficult decision needs to be made. FUMC is blessed with leaders of this type whose wonderful hearts ensure that we continue to move forward.
FUMC is blessed also with a strong group of leaders who have agreed to oversee the administrative affairs of the church. Next week, we are getting together at my house for 4 hours. My goal is to build community and trust, in addition to doing some training and study together. We have a great year ahead of us, and FUMC will be a better place because of these leaders. For which I am thankful. And I intend to say so at every opportunity I can!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Fahoo fores, dahoo dores
“Fahoo fores, dahoo dores . . .” Those words were echoing through my head this weekend at Annual Conference. Quick, before you read further, do you recognize what song begins with those lyrics? It’s from “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” the “Welcome Christmas” song that the Whos sing even after the Grinch has stolen the stuff of their Christmas.
I kept singing that song to myself as I watched the election results come in for General Conference. Four years ago, I had been part of the delegation, and I had been hoping to go again. As the ballots started coming in, it became clear that I would not be elected this year. Political processes can be messy and feel hurtful, and so I had prepared myself as best as I could to remember my own values and priorities and joys. I am blessed with an amazing family to love and an incredible church to serve, and election results could do nothing to change that. “Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
Any election becomes, to some extent, an “us versus them” affair. We have many good and faithful Methodists in Missouri who have strong convictions about issues that will be coming before our General Conference next May. Loving people sitting next to each other were voting fervently for the opposite people from each other, out of a shared deep desire to shape what is best for our denomination. I have to admit that it can be uncomfortable to have one’s own name become an “us” for someone else’s “them.” Especially when the “thems” carry the day. . . “Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
The Whos remember what is important, and so the loss of the stuff of Christmas is a mere detail. I love the image of their focus and strength, but I also think back to the Grinch himself. As you recall, it is as the Grinch sees the Whos standing in a circle holding hands and singing that he understands the real meaning of Christmas. I remain convinced that our best witness as people of faith isn’t who wins when we fight with each other, but how well we remain connected even as we acknowledge our differences. Our delegates have difficult and important work ahead of them, and they need all of our prayers. The idealistic and simplistic side of me would love to see General Conference be the type of body that holds hands, united around what is most important. As long as we have different views of what is most important, however, we will have divisions among us. In these months leading up to General Conference, the drumbeat of our differences will continue to beat louder. To a world that is weary with infighting, may we present a different image to the world. Perhaps an image that goes something like this: (all together now)
“Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have we. Fahoo fores, dahoo dores .. .Welcome Christmas as we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand. Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
I kept singing that song to myself as I watched the election results come in for General Conference. Four years ago, I had been part of the delegation, and I had been hoping to go again. As the ballots started coming in, it became clear that I would not be elected this year. Political processes can be messy and feel hurtful, and so I had prepared myself as best as I could to remember my own values and priorities and joys. I am blessed with an amazing family to love and an incredible church to serve, and election results could do nothing to change that. “Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
Any election becomes, to some extent, an “us versus them” affair. We have many good and faithful Methodists in Missouri who have strong convictions about issues that will be coming before our General Conference next May. Loving people sitting next to each other were voting fervently for the opposite people from each other, out of a shared deep desire to shape what is best for our denomination. I have to admit that it can be uncomfortable to have one’s own name become an “us” for someone else’s “them.” Especially when the “thems” carry the day. . . “Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
The Whos remember what is important, and so the loss of the stuff of Christmas is a mere detail. I love the image of their focus and strength, but I also think back to the Grinch himself. As you recall, it is as the Grinch sees the Whos standing in a circle holding hands and singing that he understands the real meaning of Christmas. I remain convinced that our best witness as people of faith isn’t who wins when we fight with each other, but how well we remain connected even as we acknowledge our differences. Our delegates have difficult and important work ahead of them, and they need all of our prayers. The idealistic and simplistic side of me would love to see General Conference be the type of body that holds hands, united around what is most important. As long as we have different views of what is most important, however, we will have divisions among us. In these months leading up to General Conference, the drumbeat of our differences will continue to beat louder. To a world that is weary with infighting, may we present a different image to the world. Perhaps an image that goes something like this: (all together now)
“Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have we. Fahoo fores, dahoo dores .. .Welcome Christmas as we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand. Fahoo fores, dahoo dores.”
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Lost and Found
We moved into our Blue Springs house in August. Ever since then, we have been unable to find an important family picture, a framed succession of school pictures of one of our children. I love being able to see how my children have grown up year-by-year, and I missed this picture deeply. On Memorial Day, Andy insisted on cleaning out our garage over my protests. (I had to be at church for most of that day, and so I wanted to relax beforehand.) He handed me only one box to sort through, a box that I walk past every time I come into the house. Lo and behold, there was the picture! I am thrilled to be able to once again see all three of my children’s school pictures on the wall!
On the same day, the Early Response Team from FUMC was in Joplin, MO. Having been trained in chainsaw and other important skills, they had been invited down in the early days of the tornado recovery. One of their tasks was to try to locate someone on the “missing” list. As they drove to the location of where that person’s house had been, I’m sure they must have been wondering what they might find. What they found was that person driving into their driveway at the same time as them, probably unaware that people were searching for them. Lo and behold, the lost was found! Today’s headline announces that the list of missing persons stands now at 0. “A huge weight of uncertainty has been lifted from the shoulders of this community,” said the governor. Great rejoicing!
And Jesus tells the story of the woman who lost a coin and kept searching until she found it, then threw a party because she was so happy. And the shepherd who left 99 sheep behind to find the one. Those stories sound one way when you’re sitting in church, wondering how long until lunch. They sound entirely different when you’ve lost something- or someone- or been lost yourself.
On the same day, the Early Response Team from FUMC was in Joplin, MO. Having been trained in chainsaw and other important skills, they had been invited down in the early days of the tornado recovery. One of their tasks was to try to locate someone on the “missing” list. As they drove to the location of where that person’s house had been, I’m sure they must have been wondering what they might find. What they found was that person driving into their driveway at the same time as them, probably unaware that people were searching for them. Lo and behold, the lost was found! Today’s headline announces that the list of missing persons stands now at 0. “A huge weight of uncertainty has been lifted from the shoulders of this community,” said the governor. Great rejoicing!
And Jesus tells the story of the woman who lost a coin and kept searching until she found it, then threw a party because she was so happy. And the shepherd who left 99 sheep behind to find the one. Those stories sound one way when you’re sitting in church, wondering how long until lunch. They sound entirely different when you’ve lost something- or someone- or been lost yourself.
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