Welcome Home!

Sunday morning is a day to get up and go to church. It's been that way for a while for me.
As a husband and father of five at Stone Dam UMC, we got up and went to church on Sunday morning.
Sometimes even when we didn't feel like it.
As a pastor of the two churches I have served, with my wife and children, we got up and went to church on Sunday morning.
Sometimes even when we didn't feel like it.
On vacation, with my wife and children, we got up and went to church on Sunday morning.
Sometimes even when we didn't feel like it.

For the past several years we have been vacationing the first week in June at Oak Island, NC. This is the week before our Holston Annual Conference at Lake Junaluska, NC, so it's great to have this week at the beach with my family, resting and playing.
But also worshipping.
Devotions are more engaging for me at the beach.
Writing is more focused for me at the beach.
And so, on Sunday morning, we get up and go to church, Oceanview United Methodist Church.

Some Sundays it's more of a challenge to get there for me. The drive in on Saturday takes about 8 hours with all the stops, and it's great to be at the beach, finally. Sunday morning would be a perfect day to get on the beach early. The weather is always perfect on Sunday mornings.
Most years I have let my children decide if they want to go to church. Sometimes they have, sometimes they have wanted to sleep in instead.
This year we only have our two youngest children with us, so I asked them to go to church with me and Heather. It's Sunday morning.

And so we went to the contemorary service for the first time. We usually go to the "Spirited Traditional Service" at 11:00, but this year we switched it up.
When we walked in the front door a greeter handed us a bulletin and said, "Welcome home".

Welcome Home.

She could have just said, "Good morning." Because it was.
She could have just said, "We're glad you're here." Because they seemed to be.
She could have just said, "It's a beautiful day isn't it?" Beacause defaulting to weather talk is easy.
But she said, "Welcome home."

And it is.
We intentionally go to Ocienview because it is a United Methodist Church. One year I tried a church at a cabana on the beach. The view was beautiful. But also distracting. The wind was blowing our little pages of sheet music. And the pastor was selling his music CD's for only $12 or 2 for $20 after the service.
It was nice on the beach.
But it wasn't home.

If you have ever read my blog you probably know that I believe that praying the Psalms is an important spiritual discipline, and something that I do to help me grow in my faith and this Christian life.
So today I was reading Psalm 90, because yesterday I read Psalm 89.

"Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!"  (Psalm 90:1)

Welcome home.

And that's where I was Sunday morning.
Home in the greeting, the passing of the peace, the Lord's Prayer, and the even in the announcements.
Home in the Communion where I was able to kneel with Heather and recieve the sacrament together and pray for us.
Home in the sermon, in the familiar story for this Ascension Sunday.
Home in the fellowship hall buying items left from their United Methodist Women craft sale.

Our home is in the Lord. Our annual beach trip is a vacation from many things. A vacation should be a time away from work, but not a time away from worship.
What a great time to be refreshed and renweed in your spirit!
What a great time to know that while you are away from home, you can still be at home in a nearby church.
What a great feeling to know that we are at home in the Lord.

If you haven't experienced the feeling of home in a church, I want to say I am sorry for that. Sometimes the church is not the perfect reflection of the love of Christ.
But I think that's because we aren't perfected in this love, yet.
But I also think that we're on our way. And sometimes, through the grace of Jesus, we get it right. And sometimes, in the heartbreaking of our Lord Jesus, we don't.

But it is home. It is the place that helps us make sense of everything else in life.
It's home because there are other people there struggling with the same things you are.
It's home because there are other people there who already have struggled with the same things you are.
It's home because there are other people there who one day will be struggling with the same things you are.

It's home. It's not perfect. But it's not about us.
It's home because our Lord has brought us here together. To live, to work, to learn, to love.

When I travel I look for the cross and flame. It's a sign of what home means to me.

Next Sunday I pray that someone hugs you at church and says, "Welcome Home!"
But if not, then I pray that you will be the greeter to say it to someone else.

Because we all need to hear it.
Because we all need to know it.
Because we all need to feel it.
Because we are all longing for it (read the rest of Psalm 90 here)

Welcome home!

Make Good Choices

“Make good choices.”

            My children have heard this from their mother for years. Every time that they are getting ready to leave the house, Heather will say to them, “I love you. Make good choices.”

            I hope that they realize how important that is. I hope that we all realize how important that is.

            We have a choice to make “good choices”, to me, implies that we also have the choice to make “bad” choices. But not all the choices and decisions that we make seem either really good or really bad at the time. They are just little, seemingly inconsequential choices. But they’re not.

I think we have more little choices every day to make than we have big choices every day to make, but the little choices lead us in the direction and put us in the position to make the big ones.

I heard a pastor once call these pivotal choices. He was talking about basketball, and that in life the big choice is like making a shot. That’s where we see the fruits of our labor, that’s where the payoff is for the hard work, and that most often in life we want to see where God is leading us to shoot. But before we can take a shot, our position is important, and most of the time you can’t just take a shot because there is something that is trying to block your shot. Then you have to pivot. The pivot allows a better perspective on your problem so that you can have a better view of the goal, so that your eyes can be on the prize.

So, it’s the little pivotal choices that really matter most.

The Lord gives us little choices to make every day.

The devil gives us little choices to make every day.

Make good choices. But then you’re looking at something online that you know you shouldn’t look at it. But it’s just a little choice. It’s just a little porn.

It’s a choice.

It’s just a little vaping. It’s just one drag.

It’s a choice.

It’s just one pill.

It’s just one drink.

It’s a choice, and all our little choices pivot the direction of our lives, and lead to habits.

It’s not just sex and drugs. Some people gossip and do more damage with their mouths than any alcoholic would do with a bottle.

Sometimes the anger is the habit, or the bitterness or the stress or the worry or the complaining. You didn’t wake up one day wanting to have these attitudes, but the little choices you made every day have led to the place where you are today.

I want to remind you today that regardless of choices you have made, it’s never too late to start making good choices, it’s never too late to make the best choice.

If it looked like it was too late for anyone, it would be at the end of your life. But it’s never too late, as long as there in breath (life) in you.

            Luke 23:39-42 tells the story of Jesus’ crucifixion. And there were two other men that day hanging on crosses beside Jesus. One of them, with his very last breath, continued in the path of choices that he had made by hurling insults at Jesus and those standing below him. The other man, however, changed. He was at the end of his rope, the end of his life, literally. He couldn’t make restoration to the people he had wronged. He couldn’t turn over a new leaf. All he could offer was himself. A broken and hurting and dying individual who had likely made a lifetime of bad choices. And so he said, “Jesus, remember me” (Luke 23:42).

            And that was enough. That was one good choice, that was the one BEST choice, and in that moment a lifetime of bad choices was forgiven. That’s grace.

            Regardless of where you find yourself today, as long as there is breath (life) in you, it’s never too late to make good choices.

And it’s never too late to make the best choice of all (Romans 10:9-10).

Worship in the Wilderness

There are some sounds that are just wonderful to wake up to. The sound of the ocean is one of my favorite sounds to wake up to, one week every year I get to wake up to that sound, and there have been some years where we’ve debated on going to the beach, we didn’t have enough money, Dave Ramsey would have said don’t go, but I think that there are some places that fills your soul and does good for you, and the ocean is one of those places for me. Or how about waking up to the sound of hearing, “Wake up baby, I cooked you breakfast”- that’s a good one to wake up to!

But most often, we wake up to the sound of a ringing alarm clock. And then it’s off to the races! Work, school, eat, try to get some things done at home, sleep, then do it all over again.

How can we ever find silence and solitude in our lives? We can’t find it. We have to make it.

I believe we have to be intentional about this because it’s not natural to us. We tend to fill all the empty spaces with something and the silent places with noise.

When we get home we turn on the TV, when we get in the car we turn on the radio, when someone is hurting we feel the need to offer words to fill up the quiet space because silence has become for us, uncomfortable.

And from the life of Jesus we have several times where we are told that Jesus got away by himself to pray. Here’s one of them:

“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places (other translations read “deserted places” or “the wilderness”) and prayed.” (Luke 5:16)

We think of silence as just being the absence of noise.

Silence isn’t always quiet. It is in the silence of worship where we can pray without words, especially when we don’t know what words to say, let alone what words to pray. And it is there in this silence of worship where our spirits cry out to our God, sometimes in silence, sometimes in groans that words can not express, and our God who we are in communion with hears our prayers.

We can withdraw to pray in a lonely place without being alone.

We can withdraw to pray in a deserted place without being abandoned.

And we can withdraw to the wilderness to pray.

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for 40 days he was tempted by the devil” (Luke 4:1-2a)

This passage is important to us in this 40 day season of Lent. These 40 days where we are fasting ourselves, where are seeking God’s voice in our own lives.

Jesus began in the wilderness, and in a spiritual way so do we.

The wilderness is a place we want to leave and get out of. But the wilderness can be a place of learning about God, the wilderness can be a place of leaning on God, the wilderness can be a place of realizing the love of God.

A wilderness of learning, leaning, loving, and then leaving.

And maybe it’s in the silence and solitude that we experience God in the silence of worship. And if God is in the silence of worship, if God is in the still small voice, if God is in the sound of sheer silence, then maybe there can be worship in the wilderness.

Maybe the wilderness times of our lives are not meant to be hurried through, as much as we want to get out of them, maybe in the wilderness we can still worship.

Just as Jesus did, by withdrawing to be alone with God.

And I pray that this week you create times to experience the presence of God in silence and solitude.

The Greatness of God

I love the story of the ‘transfiguration’ of Jesus. There is so much happening in it, and we read it every year in the church where I serve as pastor right before we start the season of Lent, which is the 40 days (not counting Sunday’s, so it’s really 46 total days) that lead up to Easter Sunday beginning on Ash Wednesday.

            If you’re not familiar with the story let me recommend that you grab your Bible and read it. Or, even if you are familiar with it, which might be worse because that usually means that we think we completely understand it, let me recommend that you grab your Bible and read it. Or if you would rather type in “Luke 9:28-36” in your browser you can read it that way as well.

            Here’s the just of it: Jesus goes up a mountain with three of his disciples (Peter, James, and John), to pray. And while they are on the mountain Jesus physically changes (“transfigures”), he kind of starts glowing and his clothes are dazzlingly white. As if that’s not enough, two other guys show up and start talking to Jesus, Moses and Elijah. Now Moses lived about 1500 years before this point in time, and Elijah lived about 900 or so years before this moment, and yet here they are, talking to Jesus.

            My favorite part of this whole story is the end of verse 33. In my NIV Bible it’s even in parentheses like this:

            “(He did not know what he was saying.)”

            Yeah. I get that.

            The reference (if you just read the story) was to Peter. Given the amazingness of this whole image, and the immense layers of theological insight that we could discern from this event and what it means to us as Christians and to the Church of Jesus Christ in this century, maybe it seems odd that my favorite verse is that Peter didn’t know what to say.

            So, let me explain the reason.

            Some people think I talk for a living. And using words is a big part of my job for sure, both spoken and written. I write out sermons but I preach them every week by speaking them. I lead Bible studies and devotions and small groups, and in all of them I speak (a lot probably) of words. I write this bi-weekly column and blog, and in so doing I use (again, a lot probably) of words, even though these are written words. When I visit people in their homes or run into them at Food City I talk to them with (again, a lot probably) words.

            I use words to try to convey spiritual truths and doctrinal ideologies in ways that I can understand, and hopefully that make sense to people I am talking to. But on this mountain top, Peter (who used a lot of words as well), is at a loss for words. The glory of God is being revealed Jesus right before his very eyes. The perfect and loving image of God in all his splendor, not to mention two giants of the faith with him; Moses representing the law and Elijah representing the prophets, and there is Jesus, as the cumulative fulfillment of it all.

            And Peter doesn’t know what to say. And to be honest, neither do I. And that’s a good thing. Because as they come down the mountain back into the needs and messiness of real life, we find this little verse tucked away at the end of the story:

            “And they were all amazed at the greatness of God” (Luke 9:43).

            So I think that’s the real point of it all. To be amazed at the greatness of God. Today, would you look for ways that God is amazing you? Maybe it’s in the sunrise this morning, or the mountain view you have from your back porch. Or maybe it’s in your child or grandchild, or in the loving expression on the face of your spouse. Maybe it’s in the immensity of all of God’s creation, or in the intrinsic qualities of a single cell. Maybe it is in the image of a long life well lived or a new life just beginning. Or look in the pages of Scripture, and inside yourself as a beloved and valuable child of the Most High.

            God is amazing. God is good. God is great. Today be amazed at the greatness of God. And you don’t even have to use any words, because sometimes it’s OK to not know what to say.

What I love about my job

            I love being a pastor.

            I love the feeling that I am actually doing what I am meant to do, that the personal gifts and graces that God has endowed to me are being put to the best use I can to live into who God has created me to be, and that, at least in some small way, I am making a difference.

I love preaching sermons. I think anyone who knows me knows this about me. And I hope that anyone who has heard me preach can see a glimpse of my passion for this part of ministry. Much of my week is gearing up to the proclamation of the sermon on Sunday morning, then Sunday afternoon I begin on the process for the next Sunday. The 2 churches that I have served have helped me grow so much in this, and I am grateful.

            I love reading and studying the Bible. I find hope and encouragement, challenges and reprimands in these pages of Scripture. I enjoy time in God’s Word. I guess this is why I love leading small groups, (aka "Bible Studies"), where we can talk about how to apply these Scriptures in our day to day lives, and how to really live them out. Or, what we simply don't understand.

            I love visiting people in their homes. I don’t get to do this near as much as I would like, even pastoring a smaller membership rural church. Life and work get busy. But I do love sitting around a table and talking about life, family, hopes and dreams. 

            I don’t really love church meetings, but to be honest I don’t mind them all that much, unless the meeting info could have been covered in an email, that frustrates me a little, but I kind of like getting together with other ministry leaders and prayerfully seeking God’s direction and then making plans and put those plans into action.

            As I am writing this column I have the on-call pager on my desk. 

           I serve once a month as an on-call overnight chaplain at the Johnson City Medical Center hospital. I will carry the pager for about 16 hours, and respond to situations that often are dealing with end of life. Tonight I have had the pager four hours, and have had two calls. I feel like it’s going to be a long night.

            But I love this.

            I love all those other areas of being a pastor, but I love being with people at these very difficult times in their lives and in the lives of their family and loved ones. I didn’t know that I loved this until I was at the hospital (a lot) as I completed a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) as part of my United Methodist education. By completing a unit of CPE I could get credit that equaled 3 classes at Duke (6 hours) toward my ordination requirements. So, I was a student chaplain to get course credit.

            And somewhere in the process I loved it. Some of this was probably due in part to others I was with at the time, Jeff, Ed, Heather, and Cass, to name a few.

            Sam Wells wrote a book called A Nazareth Manifesto. In his book Wells states that the most important word in the Bible is “with”.  God is with us. We are with one another.

            In CPE we called this “the ministry of presence”, and that is, I believe, why I love this aspect of my work.

            In the hardest times in life I can be with someone. And God is with us as well. 
            And this reminds me of one of my favorite passages of Scripture. It’s in 2 Kings 6. The King of Aram has tracked down Elisha and his servant and has them surrounded and is planning to kill them. In the soft light of the early morning dawn Elisha’s servant looks outside the tent and freaks out; they are surrounded! Granted, the situation is bleak.

            But here’s what I love about this story (2 Kings 6:17):

“And Elisha prayed, ‘Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.’
Then the Lord opened eyes,
and he looked and saw the hills full of horses
and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

            I believe that in these holy moments we are not just surrounded by what is trying to hurt us, but we are also surrounded with the angelic forces of God's protection and provision. Sometimes we can’t see them because we are too wrapped up in the situation, or prognosis, at hand. But the reality is that they are there. 
            With us.

            I am thankful for times to be with people to remind them that “those who are with us are more than those who are with them” (2 Kings 6:16b).

           I love sharing this truth with people.

           I love being able to share this with my family, reagardless of what we are going through. I love them so much, and we are with one another, and we have an army with us. And so do you. 

           I love being a United Methodist, united in Christ and united with one another.

            Maybe you’re not in a hospital room at this moment in a very near time of moving from this world to the next, but I want to remind you today that you are not alone, and offer a prayer for you that God’s angels uphold and protect you, and that your eyes be opened today to the beauty and hope of God’s plan for you in Christ Jesus, who is with you. Amen.

Jesus needs your boat

I have been preaching through the gospel of Luke this year, and recently I came back to the passage in Luke 5 called the ‘miraculous catch of fish’ (Luke 5:1-11). The premise is that Jesus had been preaching and teaching to the people, and that the crowd had gotten so big that Jesus got in Peter’s boat and preached to the crowd from there.

“He (Jesus) got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon (Peter), and asked him to put out a little from the shore” (Luke 5:3).

Peter was a fisherman, Peter had a boat. Jesus asked Peter to use his boat, because that’s what Peter had to offer. Sometimes we skip over such great details in the Bible because we want to get right to the miracle. Maybe we do the same things in our life as well? But every detail in Scripture is here for a reason. The miracle will happen, and we will get there. But first notice that Jesus used what Peter had.

You are uniquely equipped for special purposes that God has in store for you, God has given you what God needs to use you to fulfil his Kingdom purpose.

Jesus is gonna ask to use your stuff, because He has given it to you for a reason, and maybe that reason is for such a time as this.

And what about that crowd? It would have been easier for Jesus to send them away, or to tell them they needed to get in small groups (or Sunday School classes or Life Groups, or whatever we call them now) because that would be easier to manage. Or maybe they should just go to the synagogue on the Sabbath to hear the word of God.

But Jesus didn’t do that. On June 6, 1742 John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, came back to Epworth, England his hometown. The priest there did not want John to preach that day, because John had become, what the church, called, “an enthusiast”. This group of people were advocating for a revival of the Holy Spirit in worship, and seemed OK with going out to preach on the docks and in the fields, and even take the sacred wine and bread of the Eucharist to people where they were, instead of requiring people to come to church.

A group of people wanted to hear what Wesley had to say, however, so since he was not allowed to preach in the church, he told them to come back at 6PM and he would preach outside the church. John’s father had been the pastor of this church for many years, and there was a cemetery behind the church. At 6PM the crowd was so large that John could not see them all. He was in a cemetery so there wasn’t anything to stand on so that he could see all the people in the back except…his father’s tombstone. So, John stood on that tombstone, and wrote in his journal that “I stood near the east end of the church, upon my father’s tomb stone and cried, ‘The kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.”

Our Christian DNA is to preach the word of God creatively in any circumstance so that all the people can hear. John’s pulpit was his father’s grave, and Jesus’ pulpit was a boat on the Sea of Galilee.

Sometimes we have to move to be able to really see the people.

                Maybe that means getting out of what is comfortable to us. The church where I serve as pastor has a motto of “Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors”. I wish that were really true for all of us, that we would go to whatever imaginable height, or depth, to share with just one person the love that Jesus has for them. That’s what Jesus meant when he said a shepherd leaves the 99 sheep to go after the 1. It doesn’t make sense, really, unless you are the 1.

                How can we move to be able to see the people around us and share God’s Word to them where they are?               

Sawabona

I read a blog from Junius Dotson, the United Methodist Secretary for Discipleship Ministries, and he wrote:

“In Johannesburg, South Africa, I learned a greeting called “Sawabona.” It translates to something like “I see you,” or “We see you.” The traditional response is “Yebo, sawabona,” which means “Yes, I see you, too.”

Something I found very interesting – and very heartwarming – about this greeting is that it says, in effect, that I acknowledge your presence. I recognize the dignity of your existence. You are not overlooked. You are not ignored.”[i]

That reminded me of a story from the Bible. In Genesis chapter 16, we are told that a servant-girl named Hagaar had ran away from her master Abraham and  his wife Sarah. Hagaar had given Abraham a son, but Sarah, Abraham’s wife, became very bitter and mean toward Hagaar (even though it was Sarah’s idea to have her husband have sex with Hagaar). While Hagaar was pregnant, she couldn’t take it anymore, and ran off alone into the desert.

 Let me just say here that was messed up! I hear people say how awful our society is today, and how far we have fallen morally, and while I agree there is a great gulf between the “world” and the things of God, there has been since Genesis chapter 3. Some of the stories in the Old Testament are atrocious as to why people did what they did, much like today. I don’t necessarily think that things are all that much worse, but they are differently bad.

So, back to the story. Hagaar sat down beside a spring in the wilderness. She was alone. She was tired. She was helpless. She had no hope. Then an angel from God showed up and gave her encouragement, and proclaimed a future for her and for her son.

The part I find most interesting is Genesis 16:13,

“Hagaar used another name to refer to the Lord, who had spoken to her. She said, ‘You are

the God who sees me’.”

In the United Methodist church where I serve as pastor we have begun a 2019 worship series from Discipleship Ministries entitled, “See all the People”. The basis of this series comes from the children’s rhyme, “this is the church, this is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people”.  Fittingly, our UMC slogan is “Open hearts. Open doors. Open minds”.

Yesterday I got to play peek-a-boo with a friend’s grandson. His name is Josiah. Josiah loves to be held by one person, while another person is hiding behind their back, says his name, “Josiah, Josiah”, and then pops up in front of him with a “peek-a-boo, I see you”.  It made him laugh, so that was fun. But it reminded me of this basic instinct that we all have from a very young age to be known by name, and to really be seen.

There are people who desperately need to know that they are seen.  There are people in our church buildings who come in every Sunday and sit on the pews, but need to know they are seen. There are cashiers who scan your groceries, servers who bring your food to your table, even strangers standing in line at the bank, who need to know that they are seen.

There are homeless and hurting people who feel invisible to the society around them, a society that they don’t even feel that they are a part of. There are hurting and broken people who feel ashamed to show others who they really are, for fear that being really seen would mean to be rejected. There are wives in abusive relationships who just want to be seen.

There are young children, both boys and girls, suffering the atrocities of human slavery.

And God sees them.

And we are called to see them to too!

#Allthepeople

Hagaar named the place where the angel came to her Beer-lahai-roi, which means “the well of the living One who sees me”.

El-roi means the God who sees you.

In whatever place you find yourself today, there is hope. You are not alone.

Sawabona, my friend. I see you. And God sees you.

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[i] https://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=756434a4416d9bc710b1f7cfe&id=d06f57ee38&e=373f106bc4