outline preaching

Some weeks are hard for preaching.  I usually am able to take the time to get into the texts and to prayerfully discuss them with colleagues and to stew over the gospel message as I do the things that it takes to be the church… and other things as well.

But some weeks, there is too much to do to take the time to write a manuscript.  I lose hours of sleep on Saturday evening and Sunday morning painstakingly typing out the right words to say. I have always been a manuscript preacher and it takes so much more time… on the front end at least.

This last week, I had no time to write.  I had thought and thought and thought… but there was no time to sit at my computer and write.  I sat through deep theological conversations on death and life and the new creation (which was my sermon topic)… but there was no time to sit and write.  I wrestled with what God was calling me to preach… but there was no time to sit and write. I spent time with friends I haven’t seen in a year… and there was no time to write.

Sunday morning at 6:15, I got up and took some of the jumbled thoughts that had filled my life for a full seven days and jotted them down.  I put the stories in order.  I found the natural flow of the message.  I connected the gospel to the epistle in a quick comparison and contrast.  I knew where I wanted to get and I trusted God would get it there. (or, rather, I thought I knew where God wanted us all to get and I prayed God would send the Spirit) And I let it be.

I think that Sunday morning – even with only 4 hours of sleep – was a good morning for preaching.  Thanks be to God the Spirit showed up.  Thanks be to God that I had the courage to step away from the pulpit to tell a story for only the second time since I’ve been here.  Thanks be to God that I didn’t have it all written out and that the message flowed through me.  Thanks be to God.

where two or more are gathered

Even though our congregation is small, I try to have two different services for Ash Wednesday.  We have an older congregation and it is still wintery outside, so if we only had an evening service – many of our faithful wouldn’t venture out in the dark.  But we also have a number of people who work and so if we only had a noon service, they would be missing out as well.
We had a pretty good turnout for our noon service.  There were some technical difficulties as we tried to worship and sing without our usual pianst – but as someone said – that’s what makes it special!
I had all of the kinks worked out by the time our 6pm service rolled around.  I had the candles lit and the words of repentance and transformation and discipline scrolling across the screen and music for contemplation playing in the background.  I was waiting for the people to come.
And only one came. 
I stood awkwardly near the back doors and let the opening sequence cycle through again.  Maybe others are just late?… should we just go home?… ugh, singing with just the two of us isn’t going to work very well… alright, here we go!
“Well, J, it’s just you and me brother”
We read responsively the lyrics to the opening hymn and we heard the scripture proclaimed.  We talked about what the ashes signify and spent time together, though silently in our prayer of confession.  We marked one another with the sign of the cross.  We dustied our foreheads to remind ourselves that we are mortal, we are brittle as year old palm branches, and we need God. We sat together going back and forth with joys and concerns and held hands as we prayed. We talked about the peace that we had found and the peace that we are taking with us into the world for others.

That worship wasn’t at all what I had expected it to be.  But it reminded me that worship is an acting out of relationship.  Our relationship to God, our relationship to one another, our relationship to the world.  In our intimate encounters with one another, we can worship our maker.  We can praise our Lord.  We can repent of our sins.  We can recieve forgiveness.  We can offer back a part of ourselves.  We can hear the words of grace and gospel.  We can honor God.  We can send one another forth.

Wherever two or more are gathered in my name… says the Lord.  My prayer for Lent is that I make room for more of those holy and intimite experiences of relationship.

That experience last night has caused me to think much differently about my practices for this entire season, and so one of the things I’m giving up is the hours I spend in front of the television set, alone, wasting time.  I’m allowing myself to watch when I exercise – b/c it’s what keeps me motivated, and if my husband wants to watch one of our favorite shows with me – because it is something the draws us close and we can have conversation about.  But no more mindless hours in front of the t.v. set.  I’m seeking out relationships with people and relationships with ideas and my relationship with God through conversation and game nights with others, and through dedicating myself to read some of those “God” books that have been sitting on my shelf for a while now and spending time in prayer and reflection around them.

the potential demise of “the beast” and whether or not God cares.

Those of you who know me on facebook or twitter will be aware by now that I was in a car accident on Monday. “The Beast,” as many affectionately call my dad’s car is in a ditch somewhere.  While I’ve had my share of bumps and taps in a car while driving (I have both bumped a car in front of me at a stop sign and been bumped from behind at a light… and then there was the whole hitting of the cement pole thing that is a very long story) – and even was in another accident when we hit a deer on the interstate, this accident was very scary.

As I have had to recount the incident dozens of times – both in my own head and to insurance adjustors and to family and friends, I’m not necessarily going to do that again here.  In part, because it all happened so quickly… or so slowly… I can’t tell if time was speeding by or slowed down and everything took place in half a second or half a minute.  All I know is that I had changed lanes to avoid/give room to a vehicle that lost control and as that vehicle came back into my new lane, I hit the brakes and prayed that we wouldn’t collide.

We did.

As a pastor, I’ve thought about where God has been in all of this. It’s easy to both be absolutely grateful and absolutely pissed off. On the one hand, no one was really hurt in the accident and I am utterly thankful for that.  It could have been worse – much worse.  On the other hand, it could appear that all of those prayers for safe travel fell on deaf ears.  I not only was in an accident, but I also couldn’t make it to my ordination interview. Really, God?  Was that a part of your plan?

But then as a person of faith who wrestles with God quite often, I also find myself not wanting to do either of those things.  I find myself not really wanting to place God in the situation at all.  I chose to drive that day.  The other driver also chose to drive. The wind changed directions, the road got icy, stuff happens and we collided. No where in that entire scenario does God have to intervene. There were choices made and actions taken and then there were appropriate consequences.

I guess it’s the battle between free will and determinism that is wrestling inside of me.  I read the scriptures that says God knows the number of hairs on my head and that God won’t leave me or forsake me.  But does that also mean that I think God will protect me from bad things happening my entire life? Not at all.  Do I think that all actions have consequences – good and bad?  Sure.  Does that mean that God intentionally sends things into our lives to teach us lessons or to punish us?  Not really. 

I know that my little “adventure” on the interstate nowhere near compares to disasters and tragedies and heartache that others have felt in their lives and that we all will continue to experience in this life.  At the root, however, I guess what I’m wrestling with here is a question of theodicy. 

And the only answer I can come up with is that God was present in how we chose to respond to the situation.  The woman who was in the other car and I sat down at a Perkins Restaurant over a pot of coffee and some pie and we talked.  We got to know one another a little better and talked about our families and why we were both on the road that day.  We cried together over what had happened.  And we knew that despite it all, in spite of being far from home and not knowing what to do next, that we were not alone. We experienced table fellowship and allowed this yucky thing that happened to bring us closer together. We felt hope in the midst of despair.

If that’s not God… then I don’t know what is.

The Human Condition

What effect has the practice of ministry had on your understanding of humanity and the need for divine grace?
Over and over again I am reminded about our utter need for grace. In my own life and ministry the work I do would not be effective or positive if it were not for God’s grace. As someone who is beginning this journey of ministry I make more mistakes that I would care to admit, and yet somehow God takes my feeble and human attempts at faithfulness and transforms them mightily. This fall, I was called to the bedside of a congregation member who was actively dying and the family wanted me to say a prayer with him before he passed. In my vanity, I had worn this cute pair of boots, but they were very loud as I stepped into the room. Embarrassed, I tried to take them off so that I wouldn’t disturb the peacefulness and the quiet music in the background. By the time I got my boots off and moved over to the side of the bed and began my prayer, he was taking his last breath. At first, I was angry with myself for having worn the wrong shoes and for taking so long. But the first comment out of his son’s mouth was about how wonderful it was that his father had passed from this world in the midst of prayer.
My understanding of humanity has also been tried and tested in my congregational work. We welcomed a gentleman back into our congregation after he had been in some trouble. Overall, our congregation was very gracious and welcoming! After some time had passed, even connected with our community, he found himself in trouble once again. I think for the first time, I really saw the destructive powers of sin in someone’s life – sin that not only imprisoned his spirit, but also led once again to the imprisonment of his body. And yet through it all, we have continued to be in relationship with him. I was amazed by his power to seek and ask God’s forgiveness and the fact that he kept praying for us in the midst of his struggles.
I have also worked a lot with families in need in our area. As I work with them, I am reminded about how little power so many people have to change their lives. Sin (our own and that of others) digs us into deep holes and creates patterns that we cannot even imagine being different. It isolates us from the help we need and from relationships of love, kindness and mercy. Only by the grace of God can we as a church continue to have the patience to minister to these families and maintain the relationships… and only by the grace of God can their hearts and minds be transformed. But I am also reminded that as a part of this relationship there must be honesty and accountability – there must be confession and a desire for repentance in order for God’s grace to transform our lives.

Photo by: Mateusz Stachowski

The valley of the shadow of death…

Holy God,

You sure do have a sense of humor.

The week that was supposed to be quiet so that I could procrastinate and finish editing my ordination paperwork has turned into chaos.

This season of birth and life has become a time of remembrance and mourning for many families as they say goodbye to loved ones.

And you bless me with the honor of walking with them through that valley of the shadow of death.

I hold that task sacred and pray that you will help me lead them faithfully… despite my distracted spirit.

On this day when I thought I would have the quiet of a warm office to write in, you have graced me with an elevator that rings constantly at a high pitched frequency… and service calls that need to be made.

When I want to bask in the still, small light of the advent wreath ablaze and the Christ Candle shining brightly in its midst, the wicks seem to have a mind of their own and I’m sure to set off fire alarms with their foot high flames.

The quiet innocence of our children’s pageant on Christmas Eve, turned into a chorus of wild angels as they ran and leaped and jumped and sang all throughout the sanctuary.

The family that I have held so close all of these years now brings tears to my eyes and pain in my heart… and yet you bring me other family members as well, some blood related, others chosen, to see me through the darkness.  And you bring my own family closer together as we care for one another’s spirits and try to be honest and faithful.

I am not at all where I want to be emotionally or spiritually right now.  And yet, I am constantly reminded that you are right there with me.

And I thank you.

Amen.

First Mission Trip

In about 20 hours, we leave for my first youth mission trip… as an adult that is. I’m excited, nervous, hoping I have all of my i’s dotted and t’s crossed, but I’m also absolutely positive that I have forgotten something major.

I’m not a details person. I am a big picture person. I am an optimist. And so I plan the big stuff and just pray the details sort themselves out. Which makes people crazy. Like my mom and husband in the weeks before our wedding. Or people at the church when a big event is coming up. The details are better left to other people. They aren’t my strength.

That being said – we are using group workcamps to do the details for us. They have given me a list. I think all my boxes are checked! I have things printed out and in a binder. I think I’m ready.

Now I just need your prayers. Prayers for safe driving… especially since it has been a while since I have driven a 15 passenger van. Prayers for our 5 kids and two adults going. Prayers for all of those we will serve this week. Prayers for the 100 people total who will be on the trip. Prayers for all of those who lead us. Keep praying!!!

Come Away With Me

(Adapted from an article written in the Christian Century, 1996, “Watching from the boat,” by Martin B. Copenhaver)

I read this week in an article by Martin Copenhaver, about a pastor who resigned from a suburban church where relentless demands on his time and energy were beginning to wear him down. Instead of leaving the ministry all together, he became a missionary on the coast of Maine. In this new calling, he visits small Christian communities in isolated and remote places. Most of the things that he does there are the same as what he was doing in his church near the city – he preaches, teaches, and visits the sick. But there is a huge difference in doing these things in the hustles and bustle of the city and on the coast of Maine. “Between ports of call he travels long distances by boat. Between sermons he can listen to the wind. Before teaching another class he can study the horizon. After visiting the sick he is anointed with sea spray. Interspersed with his demanding pastoral duties he takes a watery road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

When I read the story of that pastor, I realized how much I cherish the time I have away from this church. And I know that comes off the wrong way – but I, too, need time away from this building and this work, so that I can come back refreshed and replenished… re-created by God. Any afternoon I can get away to play a round of disc golf, or during the summer to sit by the water with family, is a moment that replenishes my body and soul in the same way.

There is a reason that our word for play time – recreation – can also be said re-creation… in our play, in our rest, in our time apart, we find the strength we need to begin anew.

So much emphasis in our world today is placed on productivity – on the hours we spend working and what we make out of that time. What we never stop and recognize is that constant productivity without rest, without renewal, only leads to failure.
This is the lesson that my dad has taught me many times in small ways throughout my lifetime. He has worked with his hands repairing equipment for as long as I can remember. And the rule he tries to live by on the farm is that it is better to fix a piece of equipment once and do it right, rather than patch it up quickly and get back out in the field. In the long run – that equipment will last longer and run better when you take the time out to repair it properly.

Unfortunately, that is a lesson my dad has also taught me through bad examples. While he takes care of his equipment, he doesn’t take very good care of his own body. He doesn’t stop for as long as he needs to in order to rest and replenish his most important tool. He pushes ahead, fitting as much into his day as possible, stopping here and there for a nap before heading out into the fields once more, or before working the night shift at Quaker. And now his body is wearing out faster than it needs to. Like that pastor from the suburbs – something needs to change, or someday he will have to quit the things that he loves all together.

In our gospel lesson from Mark this morning, Jesus has something to teach us about rest – about Sabbath – about re-creation. As Copenhaver points out, “Jesus and his disciples cross the Sea of Galilee so many times that it is hard to” figure out what they are doing and why they are doing it. “Until the sixth chapter, that is, when the reason for the crossings is clear: the disciples need a break.

“The Twelve had just returned from their first mission. On that mission they discovered, perhaps to their surprise, that they could do much of what they had observed Jesus do. They were empowered to teach, preach and heal. They left on the mission as disciples, but when they returned, flushed with success, Mark refers to them as apostles for the first time. It was a new title signifying a new relationship with Jesus. No longer were they disciples with mere “learner’s permits,” unable to do anything on their own. They had been sent forth with the authority of a commission. They were apostles. When the apostles returned to Jesus they had stories to tell and victories to savor.”

I can picture a scene in which twelve children return home from the first day of school and crowd around their mother or father anxious to share all of the exciting and amazing things that had happened that day. All twelve voices are trying to speak at the same time, outdoing one another with stories, trying to worm their way into the conversation. In my house, there were just three of us children, and even our three little voices could exhaust my mother in about five minutes!

And that was only when we had Mom’s undivided attention! Other days, the phone was ringing off the hook, usually she had just gotten home from work herself and was trying to unload from her day, dinner was waiting to be made… you get the picture.
I remember a little sign that my mom had hanging up in the kitchen when we were kids, that said “take a number.” I’m not sure that we ever used the cute little numbers painted onto die-cut apples, but I remember thinking as I got older that perhaps she didn’t need to be overwhelmed by all of us at once.

The apostles return from their first missionary experience, but they too, had to take a number. Jesus was surrounded by people who needed healing, guidance, who were seeking peace, and there just wasn’t the time or space they needed to stop and debrief.

Those disciples wanted to tell him everything, but they were hot and tired and hungry and exhausted, so Jesus found a small window of opportunity and suggested that they get in a boat and seek a deserted place.

“Come away with me by yourselves… come and get some rest.”

That boat ride to the other shore was a moment of fresh air. It was the sea breeze blowing over the missionary pastor on the coast of Maine. It was the gentle wind that blows through the trees on hole 3 at the Sugar Bottom disc golf course. The apostles relaxed in the boat, took turns telling their stories, took turns listening, dug into their sacks for a piece of bread, and replenished their souls.

“When they reached the shore, however, they discovered that a crowd had followed them… The sick had run, hobbled, or been carried to meet Jesus… The people waiting for them looked like a huge gathering of baby birds, their hunger so constant that their mouths were always opened wide. It was enough to overwhelm a mere apostle. But Jesus had compassion on the crowd and began once again to feed them with his words.”

Can you imagine being in the middle of your rest and renewal, your vacation, your one day off and getting a call from the office? Having a family emergency that pulls you away? Even though it is your work, or your family, or even something that you might love… because your time of re-creation is interrupted, you get a little irritated.

If we were to continue on with our reading in the gospel of Mark this morning, the apostles did just that. As Jesus stood on the shore teaching and healing, his disciples called out from the boat – “Hey Jesus… it’s getting late! We’re in the middle of nowhere. Tell everyone to go home, get something to eat, and come back tomorrow!”

Here’s the part of the story where Jesus gets the disciples to pull a few loaves of bread and two fish out of their bags and he feeds the entire crowd with their meager offering. And it’s a wonderful story – but one we’ll save for another day.

Sensing the apostles’ fatigue, Jesus basically told them to wait for him in the boat, much as a parent might tell tired children to wait in the car while she does one more errand. All they had to do was reach into their sacks and hand over some bread – Jesus did all the rest. He realized that they just couldn’t do any more… at least not tonight.

“The sociologists call it compassion fatigue. All of us are capable of compassion on occasion. But when we’ve seen too many emotional television appeals for hunger relief or walked down too many streets crowded with human sorrow, we discover that our compassion is limited… Only God can extend constant compassion. God is the only one who never suffers from “compassion fatigue.” In the constancy of Jesus’ compassion, his kinship with this God is revealed.”

Wayne Mueller in his book, “Sabbath” puts it another way. He writes that too often, we do good badly. Sure, the disciples could have gotten out of the boat, and lent a hand. They were empowered to teach, preach and heal as Jesus did, but ministry in the name of Christ is exhausting business. They were tired and worn out, and if they had decided to help out, they could have done more harm than good.

Mueller shares a story of an experience where exactly that happened. He had been working as a part of the deinstitutionalization movement in the 1970’s. They were trying to release young people from juvenille centers and institutions and help them return to their homes. The idea was that they would be better rehabilitated living amongst their own families, rather than being locked up. It was a great idea, only very little time was taken to think about the consequences of their actions. No time was taken to listen to the families of these young people, or the communities they would return to. No teaching was done before they were sent home. Mueller writes that they didn’t even take a Sabbath day of rest to consider the implications of what they would be doing.

“Now”, he writes, “the nation is awash in lost children, some violent, many in pain… We, for our part, now rush to blame them for threatening the safety of our society, and we cannot build prisons fast enough to hold them… We were in a terrible hurry to do good, and there was no rest in our decisions. And just as speech without silence creates noise, charity without rest creates suffering.”

“John Westerhoff has remarked that atheism in the modern world is characterized by this affirmation: ‘If I don’t do it, it won’t happen.’ The apostles–even after their newfound success as teachers, preachers and healers–knew better. They waited in the boat.”

All of us who are called by the gospel and by God’s spirit need that reminder too. We need to remember that the power of God chooses to work through us, but that God also can work without us. That sometimes another person is called to respond. That sometimes we have to stand still before we can move forward. When the compassion of the apostles was spent and their ability to respond exhausted, people were fed anyway, as if with manna from heaven, and they could only watch from the boat.

And when the meal was finished, Jesus sent the disciples back onto the lake in the boat… told them to cross over to the other side, and he climbed a mountain to pray.

Even Jesus needed rest. Even Jesus needed to be replenished. Even Jesus let prayer re-create his soul.

Sabbath time is a time of blessing. We pray for strength and courage and happiness. We rest, eat, play, walk, and listen. That is the spirit of the Sabbath prayer that we heard in response to our Psalter this morning.

So today, stop. Take a deep breath. And come away with Jesus.

(I then played the music video from Norah Jones “Come Away With Me

facebook ministry

7) outreach and ministry through facebook (prayers in the aftermath of the shooting tragedy in our county).

Nearly two weeks ago, we had a tragic shooting near our community. I don’t need to go into details, but a young woman’s life was taken. There were very little official details at first, but everyone in the community had their own version of what might or might not have happened. I didn’t know anyone who was involved, and so while it was very close to me, it also seemed very remote.

Until I watched the news the next morning and saw a congregation member being interviewed. And it was as if I suddenly realized that even though I was not personally affected by this – people in my church were. People in my church knew those who were involved and were grieving the death of a friend. People in my church were shaken up by the fact that something like this had even happened.

I was still in my pj’s at the time, but I knew that as a church, the best response we can have is prayer. so I got dressed and headed over to the church.

Here is where I realized that we have no great means of getting the word out fast to people. We don’t have a calling tree. Most of our congregation doesn’t regularly use email or check our website. But I knew that some of the people affected were on facebook.

I recently created a page for our church on facebook. I thought it might be a good way of publicizing events for our youth who are on there. And so far it has worked very successfully. But some of these kid’s parents are also on facebook. So I created an event – a day long prayer vigil at the church for anyone and everyone who wanted to stop in.

And I called a few of the people that in 18 short hours I knew had been personally affected. I let them know that I was at the church and was available.

I don’t think we had anyone stop in and use the prayer space at all that day. BUT… simply because it was there, other conversations happened across facebook.

One of my members who saw the listing also posted it as her facebook status. And friends of hers in the community who have never been to our church were touched by the fact that we were doing this. One person even messaged me directly and said that she wanted to come and visit our church after that. Another person requested to add me as her facebook friend afterwards.

People go back and forth all the time about what kind of persona pastors should have on facebook and other social network media. I have always taken the stand that I need to a) be myself wherever I am, and b) that used in the right way – it can be a powerful tool. I do block some of my information/pictues/etc to my church group – mostly because there are kids included in that group that don’t necessarily need to see what my friends and I were up to in college. But for the most part – who I am is out there. And I have found it to be an incredible resource for ministry. I get to chat with parents about their kid’s baseball games. I can give students encouragement before a concert. I am making connections with people that sneak out of worship before I really have a chance to talk with them on Sunday mornings… or who come to worship only occasionally. In many ways – I’m meeting those congregation members where they are… but I’m also connecting with their friends and colleagues in a way that would not have been available to me before. And that is pretty amazing.

I have a pretty idealistic view of the world. I look for the best in things before I look for their faults – but I also know that everything has its pros and its cons. The best we can do is navigate the waters as best we can, and (I think this this is my new motto) take one step beyond caution when the Spirit nudges.