A Series of Fortunate Events

It's been six weeks now since my fall and Priscilla's surgery. In looking back, I guess I could focus on "a series of unfortunate events" but the reality is quite different.

• I do wish I had a better story to tell than "I fell while chasing the dog"
• I am grateful that my injuries were not any more serious, that my recovery is going well, and that Priscilla's recovery has gone smoothly
• I have been cared for in extraordinary ways by my family
• I have been blessed by a church family that has more than lived-up to its reputation for love
• I have been encouraged by staff, deacons, and church leadership who have ministered faithfully
• I have been able to participate in Vacation Bible School and The Wherry Youth Camp Mission Trip, missing either would have been a major "downer"

I am generally more comfortable with the blessings that come from giving. This experience has helped me understand the blessings that come with receiving.

Pentecost

Baptist-kind of Christians generally don't do a lot with the liturgical calendar (too "catholic" for some) so we generally don't observe Pentecost Sunday- the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit. Hmm... I am glad that the gift and work of the Spirit was featured in our worship last week.

Acts 2 tells the story of the coming of the Spirit and the enabling of men to speak the gospel message in languages unknown to them but known to the crowds gathered in Jerusalem. The response- "we hear them declaring the wonders of God in our own tongues!" In our service we enlisted multiple readers to read the passage simultaneously: Kim Sherman (English), Kristina Todd (Spanish), Ben Gribble (tagalog- the national language of the Philippines), and Helen Uba (Nigerian). Yes, it was a little confusing- but so was Pentecost! Can you imagine how those folks felt to hear the story of God's great love in their own language!

This may well be the great challenge facing the church today- telling the story of Jesus in an understandable "language." Yes, we are surrounded by ethnic diversity and people with their own native tongue. But "language" is also a generational and cultural. Will we expect people to learn "church speak" and bring a dictionary or will we pray that the Spirit might find our hearts open to learning new "languages"- new ways of communicating and relating- that show and share  great love of God?

Name That Tune

Monday afternoons are devoted to staff meeting and worship planning. Tricia joins us for calendar coordination (yes, we try) and then Chris, Jonnia, and I turn our attention to worship planning.

The process is pretty simple: we start by a brief review of the previous Sunday's service, finalize plans for the upcoming service, and lay the groundwork for two weeks out. Our goal is to allow adequate time to enlist lay worship leaders, for musicians and sound and graphics volunteers to prepare, and publish the bulletin.

The theme of a service is usually found in the sermon. Around this we choose  scripture readings, congregational music, choral music, and consider other creative elements. All of this is done with a commitment to the understanding that our worship should be God-centered, encourage participation, and use a variety of music and other elements.

This past Monday I felt like the The Three Stooges Gone to Church! We found a song we liked and were trying to find another piece with which to build. I had a song in my mind, or at least a part of a part of a song in my mind.  All I could remember was "what the Lord has done" and that maybe it was "thanksgiving-ish." Jonnia said, it's "What the Lord Has Done In Me."  I didn't recognize the title so I moved to my laptop but by the time I entered "google" Chris had found the song and had it playing on his i-phone. I said, "That's pretty but I haven't heard that one before." Jonnia said, "yes, we've done it here." "Oh, but that's not the song I had in mind," I replied... and we need to use it again, soon.

I tried to hum the melody and then Jonnia started to softly sing, "and now, let the weak say I am strong, let the poor say I am rich, because of what the Lord has done for us."  "That's it! but how does it start?" Then came the "aha" moment... "Give thanks with a grateful heart..." We had found it, it was the song we were looking for, but it ended-up not being the right song for that part in that service.

"The canon is closed"- means there will be no more God-inspired scripture than what we have in our Bible.  But the songbook of the church is not closed. I am giving thanks for the men and women God has inspired to write words and music that lead us into worship.  I am giving thanks that this process continues today as the Spirit breathes inspiration through fresh voices.  And I am giving thanks for co-workers like Chris and Jonnia who bring their gifts to the planning of worship and for our church- where we experience worship.

By the way, find the HillSong version of "What the Lord has Done for Me" on youtube and be blessed!

Peace

I've spent a week, now, trying to figure-out how to use this blog to process my reaction to the bombing at the Boston Marathon. So far I haven't had much luck making sense out of non-sense.

As a citizen, I find myself angry,and worried that this might be the "new normal."

As a parent I grieve with those whose children have been killed or maimed. And I wonder how I would respond if it were my child whose face was plastered on CNN.

As a Christian, I am trying to forgive, but it is not easy.

So I find myself praying for peace.  In Philippians 4 we find familiar, challenging words:
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding <Conrad paraphrase: doesn't make sense given the circumstances>, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Maybe together we can pray the prayer attributed to Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me so love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

Pastoral Privilege

My Sunday morning routine is, well, pretty routine. Getting the coffee started, checking thermostats in classrooms, distributing class rolls and setting-out bulletins- mostly making sure we're ready to go when the first people arrive. I've been doing this in some form or fashion for almost thirty years- like I said, it's a routine- in a variety of settings.

As we meet at Lockhart I also make it a habit to check-in on our sound and graphics volunteers. These folks  are in place by 8 a.m. on Sunday morning to make arrangements for the technical aspects of our worship. The Lockhart facility has saved us from the regimen of moving furniture every week (been there, done that!) but our media support team must set-up for each service. I admire and appreciate their commitment, skill, and spirit. Too often we only notice their efforts... when something goes wrong!

Many Sundays I am able to enjoy a cup of coffee as our musicians warm-up and review plans for worship leadership. During the service I am in "on" mode and can't really enjoy these aspects of worship. Overhearing the rehearsal and preparation of instrumentalists, vocalists, and other worship leaders is a valued opportunity to "sit back and soak it in."

Last Sunday I enjoyed a special treat.  As our ensemble was preparing to run through their song, Bonna Lenyszyn came in with six-month old Joseph. She didn't blink when I asked if I could hold him! We settled in to hear the music- Joseph, smiling,cooing, and drooling; me- remembering what it was like when our kids could rest on my shoulder. And then, I could "feel" a smile as Christine Braun toddled our way.  Christine, almost two, is Byron and Caroline's daughter, and comes in to "help" Grandmama Serena Verner on her Sunday mornings to work with worship graphics. Christine cuddled next to me and entertained Joseph with smiles, tickles, and giggles.

I like my Sunday morning routine: enjoying the sharing of service, the gift of music, and the smiles of little ones.  It is indeed a privilege to be called "pastor."