Launching Butterflies

Monday mornings are fairly structured for me. I arrive at church around 7:30am, check correspondence, and then listen to the sermon from the previous weekend. I spend a few moments beating myself up for missed points, poor transitions, muttering, stuttering and other problems of delivery - but then I move on. I go into the sanctuary, onto the platform, and stand at the pulpit. Bible in hand, I read the Scripture passage for the coming week's sermon. I pray, and then I begin expanding my initial outline. This is a process I have followed rather compulsively most Monday mornings for a decade.

This Monday I was in the middle of it, standing in the pulpit, when I received a phone call from Kathy, our Academy director. It is unusual for her to call me, as she usually texts me with any normal situations or prayer requests, so I quickly answered the phone.

Kathy: Hi Mike. Are you busy?
Me: What's up?
Kathy: We are launching butterflies, and it is really special.
Me: You are launching fireflies?
Kathy: No, we are launching butterflies that we have in the classroom as cocoons. You will want to see this.

So, I put down my books, set aside my iPad, and left the sanctuary. I walked across the parking lot to the front of the Academy building. There were several preschool classes standing on the front lawn, watching the kindergarten class carefully removing butterflies from a netted cage. The children cheered as each butterfly took flight.

One boy came over to me, told me how much fun this is, and showed me where some of the butterflies had landed in a flower patch. Other children giggled, smiled and laughed.

Kathy was right. This was special.

So, the next time someone invites you to launch butterflies, I encourage you to put down your books, turn off your computer, and go watch. And, if you ever have the opportunity to launch butterflies, make sure to invite someone to join you.

Holy Week with Kathryn and Bill *

I met Kathryn and Bill* during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter - the week Christians often call Holy Week.

Kathryn came by on Good Friday to get some food from our compassionate ministry program called The Bridge. This is not the first time I have met Kathryn, but she thinks it is. All of us at The Bridge have known her since we started the ministry in 2003, but she doesn't remember. It's not that she is cognitively unable to remember. Kathryn is fairly intelligent. It's just that she has trouble keeping track of all the churches and ministries she has visited over the years. Kathryn is one of those folks who visit the hodgepodge of programs, ministries, and volunteers to get what they believe they need. And she is fairly good at it. And she is very good at wearing down those who try to help her. She will let you know if she is unhappy with your offer of a box of food or clothing. "I really need gift cards. Don't you have some supermarket gift cards? This food is just not good enough. You people really don't care about my family." Kathryn is the type of person folks who work in these ministries know all too well - the folks that make it hard to believe that the story you are hearing is the truth. You always feel like you are being duped - kind of like how you feel when you talk to a car salesman.

When I received a call from my friend at another church, saying Kathryn had been in touch ("Mike, do you know anything about her?" "Oh, yes, we all know Kathryn.") and needed food for her family for Easter, I told him to have her come by. He said she wanted gift cards, and we don't have them, but I would give her a box of food. I knew she wouldn't come during our normal hours on Tuesday evening, as she doesn't like to stand in line, or sit in a room with others, waiting.

Kathryn came at 6:45pm on Good Friday, just a half hour before our area ministerium's Good Friday worship service, which we hosted this year. I was just showing the speaker for the evening where he could wait for the other ministers, when word came from the foyer that someone was here needing food. This is not unusual on a Sunday morning, and we usually have folks at that time to help, but our regular greeters and ushers were not here, so I went to the foyer and saw Kathryn and a young teenager. It was Cindy,* who I remember as just a toddler when we first met her mom. I took them downstairs to sit while I prepared a box of food. As I brought out the box Kathryn asked if we had any sheets, so I invited her into the room where we have such things. I tried not to rush them, but all the while I was aware that I was supposed to be upstairs, being a good host to the ministers and guests who were arriving for the worship service. Kathryn and Cindy spent about 10 minutes looking through and choosing several things. I gave them two bags to carry the sheets, pillow cases, blankets, a teddy bear and a vase. I then carried the food box to her car. A man whom I did not recognize was driving, and we smiled at each other. I placed the box in the car and, as I walked away I heard Kathryn say, "They gave us crap. I was promised an Easter dinner and they gave us crap."

I thought a lot about what she said. And I realized that I'm a lot like Kathryn.

An hour or so later I met Bill. It was after the Good Friday service ended and folks were leaving the sanctuary. I looked over and saw a young adult man praying, sitting with head bowed in a pew. Just then Ray, a tall, friendly man with dreadlocks who owns a barber shop and sends his daughters to our preschool, came up to tell me that his wife is pregnant with their fourth child - and we can expect this child in our school in 2016. He saw me look over toward the man who was praying and said, "That's Bill. He was in the shop. He just has a scooter and it was starting to get dark, so I offered him a ride. He said, 'I'm going to the Nazarene,' and I told him I was coming here too, for the service. Don't know much about him, but he's a good guy." Ray thinks everyone's a good guy.

I walked over and sat next to Bill. We talked for 20 minutes or so, easily moving between conversation and praying. He told me he had sensed a peace during the service, and it was just what he needed. He also said, "My life is pretty much a disaster. But I feel good here, right now." We prayed again, and I told him how he can reach me, and that I hoped to see him on Sunday - and maybe he'd like to come back on Tuesday night to get some food and maybe help out.

Bill came back on Sunday morning, and we got to talk again. He hung around for fellowship time afterwards, ate a cupcake and some fruit, and made conversation with several folks. He said he'd be back.




* of course, not their real names

Evolution? Creation? I am not sure

I am not sure.

I am not sure if the Genesis account of creation should be taken literally. I am not sure how it was understood by those who first received it. I am not sure if they asked the same questions  I ask today. I am not sure if they cared about the same issues as those who sit in my congregation every Sunday morning, or those who sit in our Sunday school classes and Bible studies. Were they asking  “How did God do this?”  or were they asking “Why did God do this?” Which question is the story of creation answering?

I am not sure.

I am not sure about evolution. I rely on scientists to understand and interpret vast amounts of data and develop a coherent explanation. In some ways this is a fiducial relationship – I have to trust that they are honestly handling all the information available to them, and not simply cherry-picking data to confirm their own biases. And I know enough about human nature to know this is a tall order. And, to be honest, it seems scientists change their mind every few weeks about what is best for us to eat, or how to prevent disease. If they can’t get on top of those, how can I be sure they know about something that happened thousands – or millions – of years ago? When I visit Ken Ham’s Creation Museum I realize that the arguments presented there sound persuasive. I read articles by my good friend Karl Giberson, refuting Ham, and I am attracted to those. I can see both sides. And I know that I am not smart enough to decide for myself. I need help dealing with these dualing experts (or at least self-proclaimed experts).

I am not sure.

My lack of certainty about the whole evolution/creation question might not be a very big deal – after all it doesn’t really influence the way I live my everyday life. Except it does. I’m a pastor, and one of my roles is to help folks live their Christian lives in the real world. Thinking about the  teens in my church. sitting in high school classrooms and preparing for college, I am aware that this is a big deal. Thinking about the new person, who just moved to our community to attend grad school, I am aware that how we deal with this issue matters. And that member of my church board who has been inviting his neighbor to worship – and his neighbor happens to be a scientist – I know this question matters.

And that brings me around to the problem of litmus tests.

Over the years, everyone from pastors to Sunday school teachers to camp speakers to youth leaders have offered our young people, and our not-so-young people, quick and easy answers as to how to know whether someone is one of “us” or one of “them.” All you need do is ask for their opinion on one or two issues, and you would know. Sure, they might say they are a Christian, they might say they follow Jesus, they might even go to church, but we cannot be sure unless they pass our test.  Abortion? End Times? Politics? Alcohol? Creation?

Really?

As a Wesleyan, I’ve always been comfortable with a bit of mystery. We don’t claim to know all the answers to every question. We don’t demand adherence to one stance on every controversy to come down the theological pike. There’s room for diversity about many issues that other groups argue over, even split over. We talk about unity on essentials, and freedom on non-essentials. While we might even disagree a bit about what constitutes an essential, we’ve done a pretty good job of keeping the list short. And when we use a non-essential issue as a test, in order to figure out someone else’s spiritual state – well, the litmus test goes both ways. What happens when that same young person who was told that every good Christian always votes with the __________ party finds out differently in the real world? And what happens when that student meets a professor  –  at a Christian college – who does not match up to the litmus test?  And what happens when our young person’s own views no longer match with the “correct” answers? Do we really want them to believe that to disagree with our opinion on a non-essential means they are no longer one of us – and that opinion separates them from the church, and from Christ?

You see, as a pastor in the Wesleyan tradition, I’ve tried to preach and teach that we look to the Bible to answer the most important questions of our lives:

“What must I do to be saved?”

“What constitutes a meaningful life, and how can I live it?”

“How am I to treat others, myself, and creation?”

This is different from going to the Bible to answer every question of life. Scripture does not answer every question, nor is it the source of truth for every issue. When I misuse Scripture by expecting it to answer every question, including questions it was not designed to answer, I not only disrespect Scripture, but I find myself drawing strange lines that separate people in places where a separation is just not necessary.

And for me, this issue is not just a philosophical question, or some abstract problem.

It has a face, several in fact.

It is the teenage girl in my church who will be attending a major, prestigious university next year – and majoring in science.

It is the young, intelligent husband and father who has been coming to my church for awhile, and wants to know if his head as well as his heart is welcome in our church.

And it is the young adult who wants to know if there is room in the church for people like him, who are not satisfied with simple answers to complex questions.

I am not sure.

The OTHER

Probably nothing has been more important to me these days than this stream of thought. I’m not sure I can communicate it in a way that makes much sense to anyone, but I will give it a try.

God loves you. I am absolutely sure of this.

God loves everyone else too. I am just as sure of this as I am that God loves you.

God’s love for everyone else includes the OTHER – that person whom you cannot imagine loving, that person whose very existence is a cause of inconvenience to you, or frustration to you, or pain to you. They are different from you in some way. You may even hate this person. That is why, in your life, they are the OTHER.

Not only does God love this person, but to God, this person is not the OTHER. They are the beloved. Just like you are the beloved. You may think that God has a hard time loving this person, but God does not. It is as easy for God to love your OTHER as it is for God to love you. Sure, there are some things in the life of the OTHER that God does not like, just like there are some things that God does not like in your life. That doesn't stop God from loving either of you. That’s just how God is.

I hope you are aware that there are persons in your life who love you very much. There are, and they want what is best for you. There are persons in the life of the OTHER who love them in much the same way that you are loved. These persons absolutely want what is best for the one they love.

Are you following so far?

Now I need to change the word “you” to the word “me” – because this is about a realization God has given to me about how I relate to the OTHER and to those who love them.

When I do not love the OTHER as God loves them, when I hate them, or ignore them, when I speak words of cursing rather than blessing, I attack not only the OTHER, but I cause great pain to those who love them – all of whom God loves. I am attacking God, cursing God, causing pain to God. I am breaking relationship with those God loves, and whom I am called to love as well. I am breaking relationship with God.

That is sin.

I am tired of sinning. I am tired of hurting those whom God loves. I am tired of people hurting the ones I love. I am tired of sin.

I am sick and tired of having OTHERs in my life.

I am sick and tired of labeling people as OTHERs in order to justify the way we treat them. I am sick and tired of our political process, our economic process, requiring OTHERs in order for us to do business as usual. I am sick and tired of us needing to have OTHERs just so we can feel good about ourselves.

I am sick and tired of sin. And I am sick and tired of saying that certain sins are just what the world is like, and there is nothing we can do about it. I don’t believe that, and I certainly don’t believe I am called to participate in it.

I am sick and tired of having OTHERs in my life, because I am called to be in the process of becoming more Christlike.

And to God, there are no OTHERs.

Happy Holidays

Advent Blessings!

Over the last several years, there has been quite a bit of consternation from Christians about what they perceive to be the "unChristianizing" of American culture. Now, I have quite a bit to say about that, and we could probably have a good time discussing it, but I'm not going to delve into that big picture conversation today. Rather, I am going to address just one small bite of it.

There are folks who get exercised because government entities, businesses, and media seem to avoid the traditional "Merry Christmas" greeting in favor of a more generic "Happy Holidays." Or, they are offended that some folks list out several other holiday greetings along with Christmas. Or public schools have "holiday" or "winter" programs rather than the explicitly Christmas programs of their youth.

I'm going to try and be kind here, and I mean this in all true love and affection:

CHILL!

There are many things to be offended about in our society that are explicitly anti-Christian, including the general coarsening of our culture. (Feel free to jump back to February, 2012 and read my blog "I Don't Curse.") More importantly, there are aspects of our society that explicitly draw folks away from the love and grace of God and lead to idolatry, such as consumerism and idolatrous nationalism. If we were talking about those, I would be interested in participating.

But getting offended because someone greets you with "Happy Holidays!" Seriously?

The truth is, we cannot expect our local, state, or federal government - in all its manifestations, including public schools, and the public square - to explicitly tell the story of Jesus. We cannot expect businesses to go out of their way to remind folks of the true reason for the season. We cannot expect the media to get the Christian story correct. After all, every time I see a news article, TV report or internet story reporting on something about which I have a direct connection, the media gets it wrong.

It's not the government's job to declare the Incarnation. It's not the bottom-line mission of most businesses to  preach the gospel. And it's not the media's responsibility to bless us with the message of the birth of the Savior.

It's the job of the church.

And if my community is being inundated with the message of "BUY, BUY, BUY" but not hearing about a virgin with child who is the Messiah, then it is the fault of my church and the other churches in our community. And if our children are so busy learning "Jingle Bells" and other secular songs - and even songs that celebrate the holidays of other groups and traditions - and are not learning the songs of the real meaning of Christmas, that is not a failure of our schools, but a failure of our Christian homes.

The story of Christmas is our story to tell. We tell it first with our lives, with how we treat people all year long. And by building relationships, we earn the right to tell them about the Christ and how his birth changes everything.

And, to be honest, I would much prefer that people smile at me and say "Happy Holidays" then swear at me with a frown and a look that can kill. Although, I must admit, that doesn't happen as much in rural Pennsylvania as it used to in Boston.

Some of those folks could make "Merry Christmas" sound like a curse.

Extroverts, Introverts, and the First Week of College (reprise)

Extroverts, Introverts, and the First Week of College

TUESDAY, AUGUST 30, 2011

In honor of a new academic year, I am rerunning this blog from over a year ago, safe in the knowledge that, like the lyric from the Talking Heads song reminds us, "same as it ever was."

I have enjoyed reading the Facebook updates from those young scholars who are starting the first year of college. Well, I’ve enjoyed reading some of them - those written by extroverts. Updates from introverts, if they write them at all, can be painful to read. You see, the first few weeks of college are paradise for extroverts. It’s all about meeting new groups of people, and participating in social activities designed to help you fit into a large group of other new people. It’s extrovert heaven, primarily because it is orchestrated by other extroverts - those college student development staff members and student government types who are in those roles and given this task because, well...they are “people persons.” In other words, they are extroverts. And all those new freshmen who write on Facebook about how wonderful college is and how much they love it ... after just 4 days: well, guess what - they love it because it hasn’t really started yet. 

These first few days of college life are completely divorced from what the academic side of higher education is all about. Oh sure, an occasional dean or provost tries to throw in a philosophical discussion here and there, but those are few and far between, and are always led by the most friendly and outgoing young professors and graduate assistants. They don’t let the majority of the faculty anywhere near the place and the faculty aren’t complaining.

In order to become a college professor, you have to spend thousands of hours working alone or in small groups, mostly in libraries and laboratories. You have to be comfortable focusing your attention on things most other people don’t care about - and you really only like to be around folks who are interested in exactly the same things you are interested in. You don’t like social gatherings where the goal is to meet as many new people as possible. You see, most college faculty are largely - in a much higher percentage than the population as a whole - introverts. And when they think back on their undergraduate experience, they remember that the first few weeks of their freshman year was the worst time of their entire college life.

So, if you are the parent of a new college student, and he or she is a bit overwhelmed by all the new people and by all the forced social interactions - and just the idea of walking into the dining hall is overwhelming - tell them to hang on. It gets better. In just a few days, they will settle into their classes, and the focus will not be on making friends, but on the intellectual tasks of the college experience. That is usually much more in the “sweet spot” of introverts. And they can find a few people who are interested in the deep conversations and activities in which introverts thrive.

Of course, walking into the dining hall will probably never be their favorite thing, and dorm life is not near as much fun for some as it is for others. But it gets better, especially if someone sends real mail,  and that mail includes brownies or an occasional check.

Time Sure Flies When You're ...

It was ten years ago this month when our family began a journey that led us to leave a quite comfortable place for us, and take us on a new adventure. The anniversary has led me to think of what we've seen over the last ten years. Specifically, I've been thinking that:

I really stink when it comes to career planning. By any reasonable understanding, the job I left was more prestigious, more desirable, and from a purely human perspective more attractive than the one I have now. When folks ask where I came from, they are surprised, and even say - "Don't people usually go the other way?"  Honestly, yes. If you were planning out a career trajectory, this is not the way it would go. (The funny thing is, thirty years ago I taught a course in career planning.)  Of course, I did not plan out this career trajectory, I obeyed it. Remember the TV show The West Wing? I clearly remember the scene when all of the main characters recited "I serve at the pleasure of the President." Well, I can relate. I serve at the pleasure of the Lord. Wherever, whenever, and however.

I am not a victim. I have had several people, in fact more than several, who have approached me over the years wanting to know the details of my departure from my old position. Absent any real facts, they fill in the blanks, and make up whatever story they want. It seems that some of them think I was a victim of other people and circumstances. Sure, there was a human side to the story, but that's not the whole story. Being a victim is a popular narrative in many people's lives, but I have come to the place where I refuse to allow it to be mine.

God does not waste anything. Over the last ten years, I have been amazed at the way God has used the experiences of the past to work in the present moment. If we allow, God will take what we have learned, even and sometimes especially through the pain of the past, and appropriate it for blessing in the present. And our present challenges are the raw material for the blessings of the future. Bertha Munro said "God does not waste a consecrated life," and I believe God does not waste a consecrated moment in that life.

Challenges lead to challenges and adventures lead to adventures. General Norman Schwartzkopf once said that when you are successful at meeting a challenge in the Army, the Army doesn't give you a vacation, they give you a greater challenge. The same is true for Christ followers, and Jesus even had a parable or two explaining it. In 2000, when our kids were 11 and 9, for our summer vacation we went to Sighisoara, Romania. It didn't make sense to many folks, and we were lectured on the risks by doctors, and on the strangeness by colleagues and family members. Taking your family to Disney World they could understand, taking them to a poor country still recovering from Communist oppression they could not. Of course, we joked with our friends that instead of going to a make believe world, we were going to the real home of Dracula, and we would visit real castles. But the actual reason for the trip would not be realized until years later. Two years later, when we left the only home they had known and moved to a new life, while it was challenging in many ways (more so for my wife and children then for me), the idea that we were being obedient to God's call was not a foreign concept. Over the last ten years our family has gone back to Romania, and our children have returned there twice. And today, as young adults, they are pursuing their own adventures and challenges, as they clearly follow God's call. The journey to Nashville for one, and Mongolia for the other, began with the journey to Sighisoara.

Relationships are the most important thing. Today, we are blessed to be a part of kingdom work and see miracles every day. My wife Esther serves as a high school music teacher, and her vast experience in creating environments for students to express their passion and creativity blesses both her students, her school, and our church. I serve a church that is making a difference for the kingdom in our community. Every day we see God changing lives, and every day we are witnesses to the transforming power of God's grace. And every day we remind ourselves that it is God who called us here, and God who empowers us to do what we are called to do. And every day we see the blessings that come through our relationships with people, and with a God who truly loves and cares for everyone.

Ten years later, and we are thankful that God has brought us here. And time sure flies when you're having fun!