They Laughed

"They laughed at him. They knew she was dead." (Luke 8:53-The Message)

We were in the middle of a conversation about the difficulties of being the Church in today's society. I asked those who were gathered for this annual review of church life to discuss the barriers that stand in the way of effectively leading members to a deeper and richer relationship with Christ. As usual, their answers included lack of commitment, too many other priorities, too many things to do and too little time to do them, people whose lives are going so well that they don't feel they need God, and other similar ideas. I then invited them to think about what one spiritual practice (prayer and worship, fasting, study, participating in Holy Communion, generous giving, Christian service, etc.) would have the greatest power to transform their members if their congregation practiced it with great consistency and intentionality.

After some small group conversations, I asked who had chosen prayer. A few hands went up.

I asked who had chosen fasting. No hands…then laughter…then a few side comments about how ridiculous it would be for Methodists, lovers of the fellowship meal, to consider fasting.

Laughter? Have we truly become so undisciplined that the pursuit of a spiritual practice is laughable to us? It was as if I had asked a 300-pound person to run a marathon. I might as well have asked a 4 year-old to sit down at the piano and play one of the classics.

Now shift to the following story. In the last part of the eighth chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is called to the home of Jarius to tend to Jarius's dying daughter. The daughter reportedly dies before Jesus can get to the house, but he insists on seeing her anyway. Jesus allows only his three closest disciples and the daughter's parents to enter the home with him. That makes sense. They were the ones most likely to believe in his power. Once inside the house, he tells them not to worry because the girl is just sleeping. They laughed at him. It was obvious that she was dead.

We know how the story turns out. Jesus takes the girl by the hand and suddenly she is breathing, eating, and full of life.

This all leaves me to wonder whether many of us have concluded that the Church is like the little girl. She has already died, so how could we expect her to have the discipline required to be in relationship with Christ? After all, few of us are comfortable being called on to pray in a public setting. Most church members give at a rate that approximates 2% of their income rather than 10%. Only perhaps 1/3 of those who are Christian in our area say they think that attending worship is important in their life, and more than half are absent from worship on any given Sunday. Few are willing to teach others the faith because they willingly admit that they do not have a sufficient knowledge of the Scriptures. If not dead, it sure appears that the breathing is very shallow.

Imagine for a second that we have Jesus to our house because our little girl, the Church, is dying. Once in the house, he breathes new life into her, raises her up, and tells us to give her something to eat so that her new life might be sustained. What would be it take for us to give the Church the nourishment she needs to be restored to health? I suspect it goes back to the basic essentials. Learn to pray again. Study the Scriptures together. Worship as if our life depends on it. Celebrate the Eucharist as if we really believe we are receiving Christ into our daily lives. Rediscover how fulfilling it can be to be self-emptying through habits of generous giving. Fast in order to learn the discipline of obedience and the art of knowing the difference between our wants and needs. Feed the Church with our daily spiritual practices.

"Then, Jesus, gripping her hand, called, "My dear child, get up." She was up in an instant, up and breathing again! He told them to give her something to eat." (Luke 8: 54-55—The Message)

 

P.S. During the Charge Conference season, I used a series of questions for leaders to ask about their church. Several have asked for a copy of the questions. I am pasting them here for you to use as you wish.

If every congregation…

• Invited people to faith the way your congregation invites people to faith, would there be more Christians 20 years from now or fewer?
  
• Taught those who have accepted Christ to pray in the same way that your congregation teaches its members to pray, would prayer be a stronger component of church life 20 years from now, or less?
  
• Taught those who have accepted Christ to know the Bible and history of the Church in the same way that your congregation teaches the Bible, would Christians be more knowledgeable in 20 years, or less knowledgeable?
  
• Taught those who have accepted Christ to give generously in the same manner that your congregation teaches generous giving, would the giving habits of Christians come closer to the Tithe in 20 years, or further from it?
  
• Encouraged service in the community (beyond the walls of the Church) in the same manner that your congregation encourages service, would Christians have a better reputation for serving others in 20 years, or would the reputation be of a closed community?
  
• Worshipped with the same passion, earnest desire, and sense of expectation as your congregation, would more people be seeking to worship 20 years from now, or fewer?
  

 

Based on the answers you gave above, and on a scale of 1 through 10, how would you rate your congregation on its capacity for leading its members to a deeper and richer relationship with Jesus Christ?

The Make-Believe World of Reality TV

When I first received a call inviting me to perform a wedding on NBC’s Today Show, I wasn’t quite sure whether I was dreaming. As it turns out, that vague feeling of living in two worlds at the same time continued until the wedding was over.
During my first conversation with an NBC producer, I was assured that they intended to air the entire wedding live. I commented that I had expected they would need to have a commercial break within the normal time frame of a wedding. That was when the producer told me the rest of the story. The wedding did have to fit within their parameters. “How long is that,” I asked. “Five minutes,” she said.
“Five minutes? It takes three minutes to walk down the aisle. How in the world can we do a wedding in five minutes?” Having said that, I was already thinking I had been optimistic about the time it takes to get down the aisle.
“Well, it is five minutes from the time you start talking to the end,” the producer told me. “I will send you a link of a wedding from two years ago, so you can see.”
We continued to negotiate the length for the next couple of weeks. Finally, I was able to get the length all the way back up to five minutes, after a brief reduction to four and a half minutes. In the meantime, I learned that the event was the major story of the Today Show for about 2.5 hours of airtime. The day would include a toast by the stars, conversation about the honeymoon between the stars and the couple, descriptions by the stars of the food, drinks, reception site, cake and almost everything else related to the event. I finally began to understand that even though this was being advertised as a wedding, the world’s view was that the wedding is more about the stars and the party than the ceremony. I suppose I have spent a little too much time living comfortably in my little theological world.
NBC was interested in creating a day of fantasy while I thought we were trying to enter into a life-changing moment for two people. NBC wanted to explore the idea that expensive rings, clothing, and parties can bring happiness, while I wanted to caution against such ideas. NBC understood this as a simple commitment between two people that required little more than an “I do.” I understood that it was a commitment between two people and God, along with the support of the faith community. That takes a bit more time. The couple, fortunately, was in agreement with me, but over a month of percolating on the idea made me wonder if maybe we were truly the minority in our society.
NBC was producing a TV reality show in which its primary characters (Matt Lauer, Meredith Viera, Al Roker, and Natalie Morales) got to go to a wedding together. While there they would toast the couple that just happened to be living out a Cinderella fantasy. The storyline was helped by the fact that the groom had been off to war and was returning home to safety. It was a wonderful fairytale story, aside from the fact that Jeremy and Melissa really have lived with the separation and anxiety of war.
The fantasy experience was there for me as well. A limousine driver picked me up from the hotel and whisked me to the studio. I was escorted to the room where my make-up was done and my hair gelled so I wouldn’t be bothered by the real wind and rain. My robe and stole were sent to wardrobe for pressing. A keeper watched over me throughout the morning. One of the stars greeted me and asked me if I knew my “lines.” A person stood just beyond range of the cameras and pointed at me when it was time for me to start. He also stood ready to tell me whether to slow down or speed up, depending on whether we were behind or ahead of schedule.
I had to frequently ask myself whether I was “talent” in a show, or I was a minister performing a wedding ceremony and service of worship. I am sure that was also true for the bride and groom, and for the guests at the wedding. It didn’t get any easier for me after the show, I mean wedding. Almost immediately, I began to receive notes on my Facebook wall (This is a good thing because my Facebook wall has been mostly empty until now). Video links to the wedding showed up in many places, some of the text from the wedding was quoted in a news release posted on MSNBC, and my family began to claim that they know me. That hasn’t happened with any other weddings I have done.
As I think about all this, I am beginning to understand that I really was participating in two worlds at the same time. Yes, it was a show, and it was make-believe, and it placed the focus in the wrong places and the wrong values. At the same time, it was a real couple that was just as committed to their future life together as other couples I have married, and it was a service of worship, and this couple will live a life as complicated and as real as any of us. They will have future moments when their fantasies come true, and they will have days that feel like nightmares. God has still pledged to be beside them in all of those days, and they have pledged to seek God’s guidance along the way.
I can understand those who would condemn the whole thing as making a mockery of a solemn event, but that wasn’t my experience. What seems most important for me at this point is to be able to clearly understand the difference between the two.
During the wedding, I reminded the couple of their dreams and imaginings as they looked toward their marriage and then suggested that they had cast aside those dreams because the real thing was so much better. I pray that my statement will speak truth for the rest of their lives. The make-believe wedding seemed pretty good, but I pray it will feel empty when compared to life lived as one. The make-believe will fade, but the real will endure.
Now, back to real life.

Doing it Differently

    The neighborhood in which I live has what is for me a new fangled way of mail delivery. Instead of each family having a personal mailbox at the end of the driveway, the postal service has provided a group mailbox for a cluster of households.

    All of us in the cluster walk to our common box, place our outgoing mail in the same receptacle, and then get our personal mail out of a private container that has been designated for our household. No house is more than four lots from the box. It is a few extra steps, but it means we don't have to worry about maintaining our own box, and we don't have to worry about those late Saturday night visitors who enjoy smashing them. We have traded one convenience for another.

    I was wondering why the postal service had decided to provide such boxes for us until one day I saw the mail carrier stop at our group box. He opened the front of the container to expose our private boxes, and in a matter of seconds he was able to gather our combined outgoing mail and deliver our incoming mail without getting out of or even moving his vehicle.

    Wow! What had once taken the mail carrier 15-20 minutes now took only 1 or 2 minutes to complete. No wonder the postal service was willing to provide the boxes for us! Imagine, though, what it was like for the mail carriers when they first heard their number of daily deliveries was being multiplied 10-fold. It couldn't have made sense until they could visualize the plan.

    I hope that story is a metaphor for what is happening in the Pony Express and Heartland North Districts, beginning July 1. Most have probably heard by now that I will be serving as superintendent of both districts. The normal responses to me have been that it is too many churches, or too many pastors, or it means that some churches or pastors will be ignored, or that I will be over-worked. All those responses are predicated on an understanding that we are continuing with the same model for superintending.

    However, like the postal service, we are seeking to accomplish our mission by doing things in a different way. We have some ideas about improving the way we do charge conferences, pastoral supervision, and pastor-parish consultations. We will use a few of the resources that we used to spend on the second superintendent to contract with folks who have specialized skills and will perform specialized tasks. I also suspect that we will discover even better methodologies in the year to come. During the summer, we will hold a series of meetings to explain what this all looks like and invite your suggestions.

    In the meantime, let's answer a few basic questions/concerns. First, we will continue to have two distinct districts, with both offices continuing as before. I will work out of both offices, though my real office tends to be in churches and restaurants and wherever else you are gathered. If you need assistance, you will continue to call the same numbers and use the same email addresses.

    Some have worried that the superintendent will ignore the small churches. Actually, large churches tend to be the ones who ask very little from the superintendent. So, who can you expect to get my attention? I plan to continue devoting my attention to congregations that are actively attempting to interact with the community that surrounds them and are looking for assistance in taking the next step. Congregations that are just keeping the doors open until the last person dies do not need my help. Congregations that are already functioning with a high level of clarity do not need my help. It is the ones that are transitioning who can best utilize what I have to offer.

    However, answering the above question probably leads us astray. Our ability to accomplish the mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ will not be measured by whether churches get the attention of the superintendent. Having the superintendent simply show up at a worship service or fall sale will not make the Kingdom come into fruition. From the district's perspective, we must ask whether the district is effectively helping congregations develop the financial, spiritual, and leadership resources they need to do what God is calling them to do. It won't matter whether the church is small or large, rural or suburban, or served by a part-time or full-time pastor.

    This will be a great adventure for us, and we will do our best to follow in the direction of God. As always, stay focused on the mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ. Seek ways to serve the community that surrounds you. Follow the Wesleyan rules: Do no harm, do good, and stay in love with God.

13. Giving a Little Extra

I almost brought this up a year ago, but I chose the cowardly act of silence. Now I am gathering up my courage, and I will dare to ask the question: "Is it possible for a district in the Missouri Conference to pay 100% of its conference apportionments?" Perhaps I should be bolder. Is it possible that Pony Express District churches could pay their conference apportionments in full in 2010?

Before answering, here are some facts. Our district completed 2009 with contributions equaling 95.1% of what we were apportioned as a group. Seventy-nine of our 92 churches paid 100%. Thanks to the commitment of our churches, we came very close to hitting that 100% mark last year!

Of the 13 that did not contribute all that was asked of them, only two gave nothing. (Both of those either have or will soon have given something in 2010). Nine of those who did not make 100% have allowed it to become habitual. Those nine have missed on anywhere from 4 to 18 consecutive years. Quite honestly, though, almost all of them have extenuating circumstances that tend to impoverish them as congregations.

So, the first thought would be that we will never pay 100% because we will always have one or more congregations that don't quite make it. The very fact that I am writing this, though, should tell you that I have a second thought.

Our problem may not be that we will always have some churches that cannot pay 100%. Rather, our problem is that we don't have churches who consider paying more than 100%. For some reason, we have tended to believe that 100% is a cap on giving rather than a minimum standard. That is like saying no person should give more than a tithe of their income to God. It misses the Bible's invitation to be extravagantly generous.

The Apostle Paul suggested a similar idea to the people of Corinth. He wrote, "It is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance." (2 Corinthians 8: 13-14) In other words, if you are having an extra good year, if you have received an unexpected bequest, or if you just somehow end up with money in the bank because your need was less, then share some on behalf of those who didn't have the same kind of year. Someday, their time will come to help you.

As it turns out, that already happens in a neighboring annual conference. It traditionally pays 100%, I am told, not because every church can do so, but because churches than can pay 105%. There are a few churches here in Missouri that are doing the same—none so far from our district.

Is it worth it for us to go to that effort? I believe so. Our connectional giving lays the groundwork for everything else we do. If there were no apportionments, there would be no church camp, no new churches, no Africa University, no training for pastors, no safe sanctuaries, no communications system for helping us work together, no United Methodist Committee on Relief, no disaster response team, no Volunteer in Mission organization. Each church would simply be on an island picking a pastor from among the flock and teaching whatever theology was most popular at the moment. When we give connectionally, we make each other stronger.

I have mentioned this idea of giving 105% in a couple of places now. So far, I have been met with laughter. Well, Sarah laughed, and she ended up pregnant with hope. Is it possible for our district to be the first to give 100%? Sure. Will it happen? That will require a few pregnant churches!

12. Ponies, Pews, and Pipe Organ People

Those of us living in the northwest corner of Missouri should have been among the first to learn the lesson. It was, after all, taught as far back as about 1860 by way of the Pony Express.

The organizers of the Pony Express devised a system by which the mail could be delivered from the western edge of Missouri to the western edge of the country. It was a daunting undertaking that required planning a route, finding quality horses, developing a human resources department that could convince riders to risk weather and safety, and building outposts along the way. Simply making it happen once was a great success. Making it last was even more difficult.

Unfortunately, soon after the developers established the route, the railroad came along. The Pony Express began as a system for delivering mail. However, instead of taking advantage of the new technology, the Pony Express became a useless delivery system. Apparently, it thought is business was the "pony" while its real business had been mail.

Within a few years, the railroads began to criss-cross northwest Missouri. Every seven to 10 miles, small communities sprung up along the path of the rail lines. The railroad was a can't miss proposition. It offered a quick way to transport people, goods, and mail. It was an upgraded delivery system when compared to the Pony Express. It appeared to be the wave of the future.
That only lasted until the gasoline powered family car came along. The railroad should have recognized the new technology as an improved way for it to carry out its deliveries. Had it taken advantage of cars and new roads, it might have become the postal service, Fed Ex, UPS, and a nationwide public transit system all rolled into one. Instead, it allowed its rails to get it off track.

More recently, the postal system has been making news because it is not making money. It is losing customers and revenue to a new technology called the internet. Well, the technology isn't so new anymore. The postal service failed to take notice of a new method for it to do its job. Even though electronic mail was quickly recognized by the public as a way to do what they used to do with stamps, the postal service continued to try to deliver messages by requiring the sender to write a letter, put it in an envelope, out a stamp on the envelope, walk the envelope to a mailbox, and wait a couple of days for the receiver to get the message. That is like trying to get a pony to do the work while a train comes whistling past. The postal service has failed because it kept hiring postal workers rather than computer programmers.

So, what does all that have to do with the Church? Our mission is to make disciples of Jesus Christ who become part of the community of faith called the Body of Christ. For a time in our society, that meant gathering people in buildings that had stained glass windows, pipe organs, and a tower spire out front. It meant putting people in rows of seats so they could listen to the more educated preacher who was delivering the message to them. It meant sending the people off to Sunday School in groups divided by age so they could learn the faith. It meant reserving Sunday morning as church time.

In many of our places, we are delivering our message by way of a system we were using, in some cases in buildings we were using, when the Pony Express began its 18-month venture. While we sit in our pew and listen quietly to the preacher, the people outside our walls are chatting on Facebook, twittering their tweets, and recording four shows at the same time on their DVR. It may well be that when they see one of our churches, they are reminded of the postal service, railroads, and maybe even the Pony Express.

Here, then, is the question: Are we called to be the Sunday morning place where people go to sing the old time favorites and have the sermon delivered on the pipes of an organ, a sermon, and a prayer, or are we called to make disciples of Jesus Christ by using the technologies the people are using to communicate with each other?

11. Chasm Lake

    A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I, and our adult children and their families, spent a few days vacationing in one of our favorite spots, Estes Park, Colorado. During the first four days, we had perfect weather that allowed us to complete our family rituals at the alluvial fan, up Trail Ridge Road, and around Bear Lake.

    The hikers among us hiked, and the non-hikers shopped. The three year-old in the group danced and sang her way around a flat lake trail, taught all the adults a new way of playing pool, and joyfully announced the beginning of the party wherever she happened to make an entrance.

     On the last day, my son, daughter-in-law, son-in-law, and I planned to take a hike to Chasm Lake. The trail to the lake is a 4.2 mile hike in one direction with an elevation gain of 2,300 feet, starting at about 11,000 feet above sea level. That is a huffer and a puffer for us flatlanders.

     If you have ever hiked in the mountains, you know that when clouds start developing you have to be concerned about lightning storms, so it is always best to start when there are no clouds in the sky. Throughout the week, every morning had dawned with beautiful blue skies and no hint of the afternoon showers yet to come.

    That morning, for the first time all week, we awakened to significant clouding. Worried about the likelihood of deteriorating weather, we almost stayed at the house, but decided to drive to the trailhead. By the time we got to the trailhead, it was misting. We almost turned back, but we decided to begin the hike with the hope that the sun would burn through the clouds.

    For the next 2 1/2 hours, we hiked uphill. We never saw the sun, but neither did we encounter any rain. We finally came to a spot where we could see that Chasm Lake was on the far side of a ridge and probably 200 feet in elevation above us.

    We started along the ridge until we came to two snowfields. One that was probably 100 feet in length, followed by another that was double the length of the first. The snow was on a 45-degree angle with a small path carved out by hikers.The pathway was barely wider than the width of one of my feet, so it meant putting one foot in front of the other. One slip meant we would slide downhill until we came to a huge pile of rocks. It looked like death to me. It also brought to mind the warning given us by a ranger the previous day. When we mentioned where we were going, he had told us he had been there just a day earlier. He said, "I wouldn't want to try it without poles and a good pair of shoes." Well, we had one pole among us, and there might have been two good pair of shoes among us, but we weren't really in a position of sharing our resources.

    My daughter-in-law, the adventurous one, went first. I was sandwiched between my son and son-in-law, and I suspect there was an unspoken reason as to why the young ones placed the old man in the middle. I chose not to bring it up.

    After Melissa got most of the way across the first snowfield, she shouted back that she didn't think we should try. I had only taken three or four steps, and was finding is very difficult to keep from looking down the ravine while my body was trying to curl into a fetal position. I gladly agreed with her, and turned around before anyone could disagree. In a short time, we were all back on dry ground, congratulating each other on the fact that the small lake below us was just as beautiful as Chasm Lake anyway.

     A couple of minutes later, a man came along the trail by himself. He was sauntering along as if he didn't notice that he was nearly 13,000 feet above sea level. My memory tells me he had no backpack, was wearing shorts and sneakers, and was barely noticing the scenery. The man could just as easily have been shopping in Estes Park. He greeted us without slowing down and walked across the snowfield as if it was a wide sidewalk.

 

    I guess the reader can draw various conclusions from this story. For me, though, it is that we had to make decisions throughout the day as to whether to keep going or stop. From hindsight, I think we made good decisions in each case, including the moment when we stopped.

    I still want to go to Chasm Lake, but on that day I was not prepared for taking those last few steps. The other man was clearly prepared and seasoned from other experiences, and I tip my hat to him in terms of his ability. Interestingly, though, a few minutes later he came back in an apparent state of confusion. After visiting with him, we learned he had missed a turn, and had headed up that trail for no reason. He was supposed to turn to the right before he even got to the snowfields. Even though he had gone farther than us, he had simply wasted his time going in the wrong, and more challenging, direction. He had the skills, but he failed to read the signs.

    I don't know where your trail is taking you, but I pray that God will grant you wisdom to know when to stop, when to keep going, and when to follow a new trail.

10. Contrary Faith

Occasionally, I run into a congregation that is a bit contrary. Sometimes it is a church that thinks the pastor should work as a volunteer. Or it may be a group of people whose mission is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but a desire to keep the building open. You may find it hard to believe, but there are even a few controlling individuals who have found they can wield power by running a congregation, and they almost always attend meetings the superintendent.

I have to admit that there were also times when serving as pastor of congregations that I was confronted by a person who was a bit hard to get along with. He or she was not usually the best giver in the congregation, or the most compassionate, or even the most fervent in prayer. Nonetheless, the person often felt a need to tell me how to do my work, as well as the need to offer similar advice to everyone else.

On those occasions, I have comforted myself by saying that the Church is just much harder to lead than it was in earlier times. Surely, it must have been great fun to be one of the early disciples when the Church was adding thousands to the rolls every day.

Whenever, I begin feeling that way, I just take a little time to re-read The Acts of the Apostles. The great Apostle Paul began his career by participating in the stoning of Stephen. It turns out that Stephen, the saint and not this blogger, was stoned because he remained true to the faith. Even while being killed, he prayed that those who stoned him would be forgiven. I guess you could say that he was serving one of those contrary congregations!

Then Paul saw the light and began carrying the Gospel message around the world. He had a wonderful opportunity to meet people from many walks of life. His witness brought many people to the faith. There is no other person who did more to spread the Word, tell the story, and encourage the growth of the Church than Paul. Sounds like a romantic and exhilarating life.

Well, it depends on how you look at it. Paul was imprisoned, hauled into court, and threatened with death—and those were some of the good days. He was also beaten, dragged out of town, and badgered by people who made up stories about him just to get him in trouble. In some cases, the people ran him out of town, then when they heard he was in a neighboring community, they went to that town to pick on him there.

While reading his story recently, I started wondering what kept him going. One would think that you don’t have to be left for dead on the side of the road too many times before you start considering retirement. In spite of the good days when people came to faith, there must have been times when Paul woke up with anger about what he had endured the previous day. Surely, his prayers occasionally voiced a desire to let someone else do it. Paul didn’t have a pension program to worry about, neither did he have reason to mark off the days until Social Security kicked in. Paul, in fact, didn’t have a career to sustain, or a job to keep. He could very easily have just stopped preaching and gone back to making tents.

So, why did Paul stay on the road? Why did he hightail it out of one town to save his life, and then calmly walk into the next filled with confidence and conviction? Why did he wake up every morning and go back to the same job? I don’t think it was because it was deeply satisfying, nor was it because of other great rewards. Rather, I think it was because it was the only thing he could do and be true to what he believed.

He didn’t tell the story to make people happy; he told the story because it was the Truth. He didn’t live the missionary life because of the retirement program—at least not the one in this life. Instead, he traveled the world because to not do so would have been a betrayal of his calling.

Similarly, pastors today don’t preach because they love being in front of people; they do so because God keeps pushing them out front. They don’t comfort people in hospital rooms or confront people in church council meetings because of a desire to either be compassionate or prophetic; they do so because it is the only thing they can do in that moment.

We serve a risen savior who is in the world today. In good days and in bad, in sunshine and in rain, we follow where he leads. Where else could we go?