Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering

Fat Tuesday was two days ago.  It is the day before the season of Lent begins.  In Michigan on Fat Tuesday we eat Pazcki (a polish jelly donut—twice the fat, twice the calories, and twice the yumminess of a regular donut).  In New Orleans Fat Tuesday is the end of Marti Gras and the end of the hedonistic revelry that has consumed that city for weeks.  Wherever you live, Fat Tuesday is supposed to be the end of our self-focused outlook on life (read: FAT chance).

Ash Wednesday was yesterday and is the first day in the season of Lent.  Many people attend services where the imposition of ashes is to remind the worshippers of the words from Genesis 3:19:  “For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return.” It’s the beginning of the time of preparation for the journey to the cross and eventually to Easter morning celebrations.  Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of a Christ-focused outlook.

There is no special adjective for today—the Thursday after Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday.  So I will offer these choice describers for this day:

WASH YOUR FOREHEAD THURSDAY

If you attended a service where Ashes were imposed– it’s a good day to wipe clean your forehead or tomorrow may be known as ZIT FILLED FRIDAY.  But don’t wipe clean the memories of commitments and sacrifices you have promised to keep for the next 40 days.

FIND-A-BOOK-TO-READ-THROUGH-LENT THURSDAY

This is not a shameless plug for the new, hot off the presses must-read book Chronic Pain by a certain handsome author (OK that was a shameless plug.  I apologize).  Rather choose a book that will help you keep your focus on what it means to be a follower of Jesus.  Recent books like Francis Chan’s Crazy Love or the Nazarene Publishing House’s Ashes to Fire or an oldie but still a goodie, Dietrich Bonheoffer’s The Cost of Discipleship are all good reads for the Season of Lent.

DON’T-FORGET-YOUR-COMMITMENT THURSDAY

Many people have decided to fast something during the season of Lent to help remind them of the sacrifice that Jesus made on their behalf.  Chocolate, coffee, Facebook and soda pop seem to be the favorite choices of most folks I know.  All those are fine choices, if every day they remind you of what Jesus did on the cross for you and if you didn’t choose to fast them because you “needed to lose a little weight anyway.”  Remember why you are fasting whatever it is you are fasting.

HELP-A-NEIGHBOR THURSDAY

Do you remember God’s words to the people during the prophet Amos’ day who were into showy worship and all the pomp and circumstance of offering sacrifices to God while at the same time they were oppressing the poor?

So God bluntly told them:

“I hate, I despise your religious festivals;
your assemblies are a stench to me. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them.
Though you bring choice fellowship offerings,
I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harpBut let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream. (Amos 5:21-24)

The Warning:  Don’t just fast something during Lent so you can tell your friends what a wonderful Christian you are because you gave up chocolate for seven weeks—make a difference by letting justice and righteousness rule your day. Look around and notice the hurting and the troubled and decide to help a neighbor.  I seriously doubt that one homeless person is going to care if you decided to stop paying four bucks for a Starbucks coffee for the next 40 days, but they might be blessed if you used your that same four bucks to help end their suffering.

These are just a few suggestions for today.  Bottom line—let today (and every day) be known as LIVING-FOR-JESUS THURSDAY.

10.  Spoken by the students of Genesee County:  “Hello, Mr. Principal.  I know it’s snowed all night but please don’t cancel school.”

9.  “I love having a salty film on my car.”

8.  “I’m thankful for potholes—they make me long for the heavenly streets of gold that much more.”

7.  “Let’s go to Chipotle after snow shoveling the driveway.”  (FYI–I am starting my own personal campaign to bring a Chipotle Restaurant to Flint).

6.  “Give me a Gold Medal—my car just did a perfect triple Lutz on I-475.”

5. “It’s all the way up to 30 degrees kids.  Time for shorts and flip flops.”

4.  “Why would anyone go to Florida when they can go ice fishing on Mott Lake?”

3.  “I’m going to miss these icy and freezing cold days this summer.”

2.  “Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!”

1.  Spoken by the pastors in Genesee County:  “I love it that every Saturday night or Sunday morning we’ve had a snowstorm.  It does wonders for church attendance!”

The weather people are saying today will be another yucky, wintery, rainy, icy mix of precipitation and wind, but it’s only Thursday and Sunday is coming!  By Sunday the roads should be clear and our hearts ready for what God is going to do!

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Jesus said, “Go and make disciples of all nations baptizing them in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.”             

He did not say, “Go and make good citizens” or “Go and make Nazarenes” but rather he said, “Go and make disciples and baptize them.”

We have our marching orders.  Make disciples and then baptize them.

Since Jesus said it, I am persuaded that EVERY believer should be baptized.

It’s an event to remember.  

I remember very well the day I was baptized.  I was ten or eleven years old. The church we attended did not have a baptismal tank, so I was baptized on the Eastern Michigan District Nazarene Campgrounds.  The campgrounds has had a name change since then, it’s now called “Water’s Edge Campgrounds.”  

Back when I was a boy, boys and girls did not swim together.  Mixed swimming was an absolute no-no on the Nazarene campgrounds.  So there was a “girl’s lake” and a “boy’s lake.”

The boy’s lake was the nicer of the two lakes.  It was a mostly sandy lake with only an occasional leech.  It had a really big dock that brave young men could dive off.  I am not great swimmer, diver and probably not particularly brave.  I never jumped off the dock. Compared to the girl’s lake, it was nice. Boys and girls both swim in it now.  So, it’s not called the “Boy’s Lake” anymore— now it’s called “Sandy Bottom Lake.” There is a big water slide that goes into it.  I think there is still an occasional leech or two— where boys and girls can discover them.  

The girl’s lake, on the other hand, did not have a cool dock. It had a lot of seed weed. The water wasn’t very clear.  I believe it was home to the annual convention of leeches and every other gross and creepy water creature. I don’t know why the boys got the good lake and the girls got the bad lake — that’s just the way it was.  As far as I know, N.O.W. never protested the lake configuration.  Maybe they should have.  The girl’s lake also had a name change it is now called  “McGuire Lake.”  

Somewhat reluctantly I must admit to you that I was baptized in McGuire Lake.  That’s right—the GIRL’S lake!  I, your manly preacher (I like to think I’m manly—even if my swimming and diving skills are suspect and I’m not particularly brave– especially if leeches are involved) was baptized in the girl’s lake. I’m not sure why baptisms were held in the girl’s lake, they just were.  Boys and girls—we were all baptized in the girl’s lake.  While I’m making true confessions of my baptism, let me also inform you that the minister that baptized me (my pastor at the time) later ran off with a bunch of money from the church.  He was an embezzler. He never went to jail— probably should have.  So I was baptized in the girl’s lake by a crook.           

Why did I tell you all of this?  

Baptism is not about the water. Girl’s lake, boy’s lake, lots of water, a little water—the location or the amount of water is not what’s important (hopefully there are no leeches).  It’s a symbol of what God has done.  And it’s not about the minister who does the dunking (or sprinkling or pouring) during the baptizing.  It’s all about what God has done (not some preacher)!  It’s a symbol of the glorious grace of God, when He washed our sins away. 

I love baptism times—and this Sunday we will be celebrating with 20 or so people the great news that they have had their sins all washed away!  If you have had a change of heart—bring a change of clothes on Sunday!  It’s not too late to be baptized (just shoot me or Pastor Andy an email so we can plan the morning).  Let’s celebrate what God is doing in the hearts and lives of men and women!     

            

This past Monday my mom had heart surgery.  The surgery went well, but an hour later for an unknown reason her heart stopped.  The doctors kept her going for a couple of days, but on Wednesday afternoon when they unplugged the ECMO machine that was acting as her lungs and heart—she quickly, quietly and peacefully went to her heavenly home.

If my mom had been in the Salvation Army (instead a long time Nazarene) they would have said, “She was promoted to glory.” She is in heaven!

I don’t know everything there is to know about heaven.  The old song we used to sing said, “When we all get to heaven what a day of rejoicing that will be.”  I think that’s true.  Here’s what else I know:

My mom exchanged…

• The potholed lined streets of Detroit for the Golden Boulevards of Heaven
• A two bedroom condo in Plymouth, Michigan for a mansion in Glory.
• A slight fear of water (she never learned to swim) to cannonballing in the Crystal Sea.
• The daily missing my dad (who went to heaven nearly five years ago) to a grand reunion  (no doubt including Neapolitan Ice Cream in the Welcome Home reception)

And best of all…

• She is no longer simply singing about Jesus at the Plymouth Church of the Nazarene—now she is SEEING Jesus.  Her faith is now sight.  She has heard those most wonderful words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant!”

We Christians have a different view of life and death than non-Christians.  Death is not the end. My good byes yesterday afternoon at 3:09 in room 548 in the Cardio ICU at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit were not the final words.  I believe Paul’s words to the Thessalonians are true when he wrote:  Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14)

All this to say, “Thank you to everyone who offered prayers for my family and me.”  We know the Lord has been with us.  And now– Mama is with Jesus.  She is rejoicing. Who can be terribly sad about that?   We have the hope that we will see her and all the saints who have gone on before us!  Great is His faithfulness!

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

 

New Book Offers Hope to Those with Chronic Pain

February 3, 2014 (Kansas City, MO) Nearly 100 million Americans are affected by chronic pain, according to the U.S. Pain Foundation, and many of them struggle with not just the physical and emotional consequences of pain, but spiritual ones, as well.

“I am a pastor with chronic pain,” says author Rob Prince. “Having lived most of my life battling migraines, surviving a subarachnoid hem­orrhage, and constantly dealing with issues related to head­aches, I am acutely aware that not all headache relief comes from a bottle of pills or the various treatments available. The spiritual aspect of pain relief is what this book addresses.”

Prince assures that this book is not about getting rid of pain in five easy steps or about having enough faith to be healed. “Even with the Botox injections that I receive every three months, I still have three or four severe headaches a week,” Prince says. “So this book is more of an ‘I know what you are going through and God is still God even when you experience ex­cruciating pain’ book.”

Prince hopes that those who suffer from chronic pain, as well as those who have friend and family with chronic pain, will find help in this book, and that those bat­tling chronic pain will come to see God at work as he has in his own journey.

 

Endorsements

“The book offers renewed hope. I think every Christian who has experienced the dark night of the soul should read this book.” Frank Moore, Director of Center for Faith & Culture, Olivet Nazarene University

“In a world that seeks the easy answers for the problems of life, this book brings us to the rough places, about how a Christian deals with suffering.” Dr. Carla Sunberg, District Superintendent, East Ohio District

“Rob’s frank and transparent description is a guidebook for how each of us should face difficult circumstances. Whether the difficulty is chronic, like his headaches, or acute, like losing a job, there are common elements with which all can relate.” Danny R. Welch, Ph.D., Professor & Chair of Cancer Biology, Hall Family Professorship in Molecular Medicine, Kansas Bioscience Authority Eminent Scholar, The Kansas University Medical Center, Associate Director for Basic Sciences – The University of Kansas Cancer Center

 

Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering will be released in April 2014 and can be pre-ordered at NPH.com Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com

My mom is not as young as she used to be.  I’m not sure if she would care that I printed her age or not (taking no risks and with the fear of being “grounded” at age 50), let’s just say she was born sometime during the Roosevelt Administration (In case you were wondering–Franklin not Teddy.  Oops, I think I just got grounded.).

Up until now, my mom has been relatively healthy all things considered.  Oh she has had a few health scares down through the years (who hasn’t?), but all that changes soon as she will have two heart valves replaced (an aortic and a mitral valve are the trouble makers).  So like an Art Van Furniture Store door buster special—she is getting a ‘two for one” special: Two valves. One surgery.

This past Monday, I was able to spend the day with my mom at the hospital. It was just mama and me (and her roommate Mrs. Price).  We didn’t do much. We talked about family and friends. We talked about her bland hospital cafeteria lunch and the bruises on her arms from the IVs.  We watch the Game Show network.  (J. Peterman, of Seinfeld fame, not Richard Dawson was hosting The Family Feud.  He was not wearing an Urban Sombrero).  I helped her put her socks on when she was ready to get out of bed and we took a walk down the hall so she could get a little exercise (neither one of us will be confused with Usain Bolt).

Nothing earth shattering happened at the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit with mom and me on Monday. It reminded me how thankful I am for my mom and my sister, Beth, who has spent many, many similar days with my mom.  Still it was a good day for mama and me.

When Moses brought down the Top Ten instructions for the people, number five on the hit parade reminded us to “honor your father and mother”  (Exodus 20:12).   Obeying that particular commandment according to my Jr. Church teacher, Mrs. Cones, meant no back talking and no arguing when your parents said, “eat your vegetables.” Usually, it was kind of a “behave or burn” type of lesson.  Mrs. Cones was a no nonsense kind of lady—especially when it came to obeying your parents and eating your veggies.

Now that my mom is aging, I view the commandment a little differently.  To honor an aging parent means to respect them; treat them with dignity and listen to their worries and concerns.  To honor an aging parent is being there (and when you can’t be there it’s calling them).  To honor an aging parent means that sometimes you break appointments and adjust schedules, just so you can sit and watch a two families trying to name “Things at a Picnic” on the Family Feud.

It was an honor to be with my mom this week.

As you think of it utter a prayer for my mom as surgery and treatments are looming.

Dr. Jeren Rowell, District Superintendent of the Kansas City District of the Church of the Nazarene, endorsed my new book:

“Rob Prince is among the happiest, funniest, non-angry people I know. It is easy to forget that he deals with chronic pain. Across the eight years that I have served alongside Rob, including “Roberto” (you’ll have to read the book), I cannot identify one time when he turned my attention to his pain. How can this be? The answer is revealed in this engaging book, and it is not what you might think. There is no easy formula here, no simple answer, no “three steps to a pain-free life.” What is here, is the profound testimony of one who has learned to lean into Jesus so completely that the power of Christ is made perfect in his weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). This is really not a book about pain so much as a book on prayer; the kind of prayer that emerges when faith is being built through suffering. Regardless of the nature of your “headache,” you will find here the kind of wisdom that at once disciplines and strengthens, corrects and gives hope.”

Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffer is to be release in April, 2014

 

You can preorder at Barnesandnoble.com or by following this link:

Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering

I think I am going to pitch an idea to the people at the HGTV (Home and Garden).  It would be called House Hunters (Preacher edition).  The show would feature a (slightly prone to live in any place that has running water) pastor and his (slightly pickier) wife.  The pastor’s wife (who will remain nameless to protect the innocent or the writer of this article) prefers a house where the kitchen was designed by someone like Martha Stewart not Martha Washington.  There would not be a lot of action and adventure in this TV show— unless you count the times that this nameless pastor’s wife rolls her eyes and says, “A caveman would not live here.”   I’m not sure anyone would watch such a show—I just know after being in 27 houses in the last two months (but who’s counting) and looking at hundreds more on line I’m ready to put this phase of our life behind us.

We’ve been in houses that smelled so bad it would make a skunk run for cover.  Another house had water in the basement.  The house we were in last night had all of its copper pipes stolen.  (Good news: There isn’t water in the basement.  Bad News:  There isn’t water anywhere else either).  One house was owned by the Bishops (of Bishop Airport fame)— the price was sky high.  Another house in Flint was called “The Governor’s Mansion.”  I’m not sure if the governor ever lived there but I know you’d have to make the former Illinois governor’s salary (that is– salary plus illegal kickbacks) to heat the place in the winter.

Helpful people have informed us of different homes for sale in their neighborhoods.  We’ve been told everything from:

“It’s a beautiful home.  I think they are asking $399,000.”  (Obviously they don’t understand a pastor’s pay package.  We don’t get illegal kickbacks.  The Lord and the courts in Illinois frown on such things) to “The neighbors have bars on their windows but it’s a nice place.”  (Ummm… I think the former Illinois governor could say that about his neighbors in the state penitentiary).

All this to say “the Fresh Prince of Bristol” doesn’t need a castle—but a three-bedroom ranch would be nice.

I have looked to the Bible for help in our house hunting. 

Jesus’ story of the two houses in Matthew 7 reminded me that I should stay away from beachfront property during hurricane season (not a problem in Flint). Instead I should look for a house built on a rock—because even when it’s raining cats and dogs— the house stands firm.  Of course, our problem these days isn’t rain but snow.  Depending on the size of the rock on which the house is built, I’m not sure my car’s traction would get me up the icy and slippery rock’s driveway—which presents a whole other problem. That’s just plain silly. 

We all know Jesus wasn’t talking about house hunters in His story.  His lesson was for a greater purpose.  The point—wherever you live (in a shack or in a mansion) make sure you are well grounded in Him.  Our earthly home isn’t nearly as important as our eternal accommodations.  So pay attention to how you are building your life.

At this current rate, we may be looking for a house until Jesus returns (and then it won’t matter where we are living), still in the meantime I want to be building a life that is well grounded on Him.  I hope you are too!

         

Mr. Dan Rexroth (President CEO of John Knox Village, one of the United States largest retirement communities) endorses “Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering”:

“I don’t have migraines.  I never even get headaches, yet I can relate to this book.  Rob Prince has helped us understand, whatever our struggle that God is with us. We all have pain in this world; it is not a matter of if, but when. Rob has inspired us not to let the headache win.  God is sovereign, and our momentary problems should all fade in light of eternity. This is a great book to prepare you for your life’s next speed bump.”  — Dan Rexroth

Chronic Pain: Finding Hope in the Midst of Suffering is to be released in April, 2014. It can be preordered by following the link: https://www.amazon.com/author/robprince or preordering through Barnesandnoble.com or NPH.com

“Each of our lives is somehow affected by pain. Sometimes the pain is our personal physical or emotional suffering. However, other times the suffering and pain of our loved ones becomes our pain.  Pastor Rob Prince’s book provides a light hearted yet serious reminder that God is on our side and only through Him can we survive the “stinky”  or painful parts of life.  I am blessed to sit in Pastor Rob’s congregation each week and now feel honored to watch as God works in the lives of others through him and his migraines. “

N. Jeannie Williams, MD

“This new book by Rob Prince powerfully addresses some of the most troublesome questions of the Christian life as he takes readers on his personal journey of living with almost constant pain.  He uses his life experience to open a big window into demonstrating how we can have a vital relationship with Christ and a meaningful ministry in His kingdom work without having all of our questions answered about why good people struggle with innocent pain and suffering.  The book offers renewed hope and constant reminders that God is continually at work in our lives giving us daily victory!  I think every Christian who has experienced the dark night of the soul should read this book.” 

Chronic Pain: Finding Hope int he Midst of Suffering can be pre-ordered on Amazon.com or BarnesandNoble.com (Release date is April, 2014 from Beacon Hill Press)

 

5)  A volcano-like eruption from one of the bed sheet clad angels as a result of the combustible mixture of  three candy canes, two donuts, a handful of peanuts, a cup of warm eggnog, the Christmas program jitters, bright lights on the platform, and a possible touch of a flu bug.  Simply put the angels will no longer be “sweetly singing o’er the plains.” (It will be more like barfing o’er the shepherds and wisemen). 

4)  The hoard of parental paparazzi toting video cameras and iPhones causes such a disturbance vying for front row seats fifteen minutes before the program begins that two ushers, four security team members and Sister Annabelle are forced to put a headlock on one dad and escort a grandpa out of the sanctuary by his Santa Claus neck tie.  Interestingly, the organist prelude music selection during the commotion is  “God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman.”      

3)   The Barn Yard Brawl.  When toddlers dressed up as cows and lambs for a cuteness effect in the nativity scene, begin to butt heats and act very much real cattle and sheep.  The ensuing brouhaha causes the bathrobe-wearing shepherds to become junior Rambos using their staffs to put down the rebellion; the angels run for the hills; and the wisemen lose their Burger King borrowed crowns.  (I will neither confirm nor deny that years ago a certain Olivet attending, freshman preacher’s kid was involved in such a scandalous Christmas production. I sincerely hope our poor program director has finally ended her therapy sessions).  

2).  Two words:  Pyrotechnics malfunction

and  1.)  When through the message of the Christmas carols sung and the parts recited– one (just one– although even more people would make the morning more memorable—still when one…) boy or girl, mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, brother, sister, neighbor, second cousin three times removed, or anyone else discover that Jesus Christ really is “God with us” and that Christmas is all about God becoming man and displaying His tremendous forgiving love for all people everywhere. 

 

 

There is only one miracle story that is told by all four Gospels.  Do you remember what it is?

It’s not the healing of Lazarus, Jesus walking on water or calming the storm. Here’s a clue: since this is Thanksgiving week think– Big Meal.  

The miracle told by the four Gospel writers is biggest meal in the New Testament (bigger than any of your thanksgiving spreads—although no turkeys were involved).  It’s when Jesus took a boys lunch and catered a fish and bread feast for 5,000 hungry men and their families.  

All four Gospels say something similar to John when he wrote:  “Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.” (John 6:11). 

Notice what Jesus did.  He gave thanks for the miracle before the miracle occurred. 

Notice what he didn’t do.  None of the Gospel writers say that Jesus asked for anything.  He simply gave thanks.  For instance Jesus didn’t ask the Father for enough food to feed the entire town of Davison (population 5,173) or asking for a VG’s truck to breakdown in the neighborhood. He doesn’t even pray for a “manna from heaven” redo.  No requests. None. He simply gave thanks for what He had.   Jesus gave thanks for the little bit, and God multiplied it until there was more than enough.  An argument could be made that the difference between 12 baskets of leftovers (burp) and 4,999 meals too few was a prayer of thanksgiving.

So often people focus on what they don’t have.  Jesus didn’t do that.  He didn’t pray, “O God, what are we going to do?  We are 4,999 meals short. We are in big trouble.”  Instead, he was grateful for the five biscuits and two little fishies and prayed something like:  “O God thank you for this generous boy and his lunch.”    Jesus wasn’t focused on the 4,999 meals he didn’t have; he was focused on the one meal he did have. 

That’s how I want to be– giving thanks for what God has provided and trusting Him for anything that might be lacking.  I tell people all the time—God knows what I need, when I need it.  I can trust Him!  You can too!

This Thanksgiving be thankful for all that you have—whether it’s great or small.  Be thankful.  And trust God for what you don’t have—be faithful.

 

Warm welcomes.

New friends.

Nametags galore.

Enthusiastic singing.

Empowered praying.

Generous giving.

Newly installed.

Thankfully called.

Overwhelmingly blessed.

Don’t trip.

Don’t misspeak.

Avoid blockheadedness.

Communicate relevantly.

Preach Biblically.

Teach truthfully.

Share faithfully.

Hope offered.

Renewal promised.

Commitments made.

Communion shared.

Revival comes.

God honored.

Jesus praised.

Spirit filled!

Great Day!

If you are in Flint this week—please, join us.  Let’s begin this adventure together!

Mecca:  The birthplace of Mohammad and considered the holiest city in Islam.  All devout Muslims are to make a pilgrimage (hajj) to Mecca at least once in their lifetime.

Mecca (Nazarene Version):  The hub of Nazarene-dom.  The greater Kansas City area is home to the church headquarters (known now as the Global Ministry Center or GMC); the Nazarene Publishing House; the Nazarene Theological Seminary (at least for the time being); and one of the Nazarene universities (MidAmerica Nazarene University).  There is no required pilgrimage to Kansas City but if there was I think it would be as much for the barbeque and jazz as it would be for our religious heritage.

For the last eight years, I have pastored in Mecca.  Lenexa Central Church is the only Nazarene church in the same municipality as the Global Ministry Center of the Church of the Nazarene.  We have hosted general church gatherings and several people in the congregation receive their salary because some person somewhere dropped some money in an offering plate and that local church gave to the World Evangelism Fund (WEF).

Prior to my eight-year foray in the hub of Nazo-world, often I heard at preacher’s meetings and other gatherings a little distain for “Kansas City.”  The majority opinion seemed to speak of “Kansas City” as if it was the evil empire in Star Wars or the IRS or worse (it’s hard to be worse than an organization led by Darth Vader).  I heard how “Kansas City” issued edicts that were unrealistic to the “real world.”   “Kansas City” was filled with waste and mismanagement.  “Kansas City” didn’t get the grass roots.  And of course, the real question and consternation:  Why does “Kansas City” need so much of our money?  (Sadly, even in the church it all boils down to money.) The World Evangelism Fund (WEF) was likened to “franchise fees” or “taxes.” The Publishing House materials were expensive and the seminary was a bubbling caldron of liberalism not worthy of our investment.

This weekend a moving van will be taking me away from my “Meccan” home and deliver me to a place (Flint, Michigan) where if someone mentions the “GMC” they think of a truck manufactured by General Motors and not the Global Ministry Center of anything.  If I tell someone I am a “Nazarene” in Flint, I am just as likely to have my new Michigander friend ask, “Did you say ‘Nasty Green’ or Navy bean’?”

“Neither,” I will say, “I said, Nazarene.’ It’s a church. I pastor a Church of the Nazarene.”  A blank stare is what usually follows.

So as I head back to the world where most of the people who do not attend a Nazarene church (and probably a few people who do) couldn’t describe a Nazarene if Phineas Bresee was standing in front of them.  Here’s what I have learned living in Mecca (Nazarene version) contrary to some of the notions I have heard:

The people I know who work at the GMC—love Jesus, love the church, and most generally could be making more money working at a job someplace other than 17001 Prairie Star Parkway.  They work hard.  Many of them view their job as a ministry.  They do this all for little recognition.  Little pay.  And too often, too little support from those outside of Mecca (Nazarene version).

No one is getting rich at the GMC.

Not the administrative assistants.

Not the ministry leaders.

And not the general superintendents.

There are no slush funds.

There are no extravagant parties.

I did not witness obvious waste and mismanagement.

Your WEF dollars are doing what we were told they would do—funding the mission of making “Christ-like disciples in the nations.”

Would I spend the money differently if I were the Nazarene Czar?  I am sure I would spend a little less here, and maybe a little more there.  But overall I would not make drastic changes.  That’s no different than if I gave you the opportunity to audit my personal spending habits.  You would probably spend my money a little differently than I have spent it  (I’m guessing you would not have as much Detroit Tiger apparel in your closet).

Likewise, the Nazarene Publishing House is not rolling in cash.  In fact, it’s tough these days in the publishing world.  Have you noticed how newspapers are going the way of the horse and buggy? If we want materials printed or disseminated from a Wesleyan-Arminian, Biblical worldview, rather than griping over the price of a the toddler Sunday school material or the cost of a book we should be in daily prayer for our Publishing House and then order one of the Publishing House’s newest, not-even-off-the-presses-yet-book like, Chronic Pain: Finding hope in the Midst of Suffering.  (I apologize for that shameless, self-serving plug).  As a soon-to-be Nazarene Publishing House author, I can assure you I am not taking any trips around the world or buying any Rolex watches with the royalties from my upcoming book.

The Nazarene Theological Seminary is not a hot bed of liberalism. While none of the NTS professors attended the church I pastored, several students and support staff have attended.  Again, they are not living in an ivory tower.  They do not have their heads in the thin air of academia.  They are not closet New Agers.  The people I know from the seminary love Jesus; love the Church of the Nazarene; and have a deep understanding and appreciation of our heritage.

All this to say, Mecca is not the evil empire.

As I leave Mecca, I do so with a deep appreciation for the church and the people that are leading the way.  Far from disillusioned or with some bitter taste from being immersed in our Nazarene world for eight years, I am departing with a renewed hope for the future. I love our message of holiness and heart purity and believe it is exactly what our world needs to hear. I love our willingness to be the hands and feet of Jesus and compassionately serve wherever a need arises.  I love our commitment to make “Christ like disciples in the Nations.” I love the church.

Good bye Mecca!  You’ve made me proud to be a Nazarene.

With my upcoming transition from one great church to the next– here are my seven tips for managing the period between pastors well.

1.  Don’t Waste this time.  Use the pastoral interim time to seek the Lord.  Pray. Really Pray.  Fast even.  Your church needs you to use this time to call out to God for your new pastor, his/her family, those young in their faith who are experiencing the first pastoral transition, and those older in their faith who may be reluctant to change. Prayer should be your first priority.

2.  Don’t Watch from the sidelines. Be ready to involve yourself in the ministries of the church.  Step in.  Volunteer.  Ask one of the remaining pastoral staff how you can help.

3.  Don’t Warp the truth.  Refuse to fall into the temptation of murmuring, gossiping or allowing any unwholesome talk to come from you.  Keep your heart and words focused on God’s heart and truth.

4.  Don’t Wander from home.  Sometime sheep take this time to check out other pastures.  That’s Baaaad (I apologize for the poor sheep humor).  Your church is a community– stay near it.  Draw closer.  Don’t walk away when God’s people need you more than ever.

5.  Don’t Wallet your tithe.  The bills go on even after the pastor has left.  Tithing is not giving your hard earned money to the pastor or any institution. Tithing is the faithful response to the blessings that God has given you.  So why stop responding in faithfulness just because the pastor has left?

6.  Don’t Wish for yesterday. The recent past may have been great, but the future can be even greater if you believe in the God that taught us to pray, “Thy Kingdom come on earth (in your home town) as it is in heaven.”  The town where you live might be wonderful, but it’s not heaven. God’s will isn’t being fully realized in your home town as it is in heaven– not yet anyway. There is still work to be done and lives to be changed.  All this to say, with God’s leading– don’t look back– He is making all things new!  The best is yet to come!

7.  Don’t Worry for tomorrow. Jesus asked it, “Does God take care of the lilies and the birds?”  Of course!  Then God will take care of his church.  It’s not my church or your church– it’s God’s church and He will take care of it.  So why worry?  He’s got this one!  Deuteronomy 32:4 says it best:  The Lord is a mighty rock, and he never does wrong. God can always be trusted…! (Deuteronomy 32:4 CEV)  Trust God as your church transitions from one pastor to the next.  Trust Him it’s His church!  

 

 

With the Detroit Tigers about to make their way in to the World Series again (I hope), I give you this baseball quiz:

Can you name this ball player (feel free to hum the theme song from Jeopardy while answering the question)?

He played in the Major Leagues for 22 years (one more year than George Brett);

Had a career batting average of .289 (higher than Hall of Famers Johnny Bench and Ernie Banks);

Hit 174 career home runs (more than Hall of Famers Ty Cobb and “Homerun” Baker);

and Played for the Kansas City Royals for parts of two seasons (which is more than Kirk Gibson and Harmon Killebrew, but sadly is not more than Kyle Davies).

Do any Denny Matthews wannabes (The Kansas City Royal’s Hall of Fame broadcaster) have an answer?

One more clue: In the early morning hours of October 26, 1986, in the tenth inning of the sixth game of the World Series, with his team leading the series three games to two, opposing player, Mookie Wilson, tapped a weak ground ball in his general direction. The loser in a race between a snail and a turtle would have been faster than the slow rolling baseball. All our mystery player had to do was reach down, grab the ball, touch first base, the inning would have been over and his team would have had a chance to win the championship– instead the ball dribbled through his legs. Whoops! The Mets won the game and the next game too and this ball player has forever been known for the biggest gaff in World Series history.

As all Boston Red Sox fans know (sorry for bringing up a painful memory, Larry and Lynne Bollinger)– I speak of Bill Buckner.

Except for that error, Bill Buckner had an outstanding career. A player with similar statistics today would have more money in the bank than T. Boone Pickens (well, not quite than much). Instead, the only thing that most people remember him for is the ball that gently rolled through his legs. Poor Bill Buckner, we should remember all the great plays he made in his 22 year career, the good times he provided or the year when he led the league in hitting, but instead we remember that one error in his second to last baseball game. He suffered such heartache and distress over that one game, he moved from Boston to Idaho (where presumably Idahoans know Boise State football and potatoes but not baseball). Needless to say, the baseball career of Bill Buckner did not end well.

I don’t want to have the same thing said about my pastoring at Central ( and Karla refuses to move to Idaho). I’ve been pastoring about as long as Bill Buckner played major league baseball. I’ve been blessed with a wonderful “career” (I don’t like calling pastoring a “career.” It’s more “calling” than “career.” But you know what I mean). These last eight years in particular have been terrific. God has done great things at Central Church. We have seen some mighty victories, and now as I am about to leave– I certainly don’t want the proverbial ball to roll through my legs.

I want to finish well.

Finishing a pastorate well means being faithful to the last amen.

It is saying “thank you” with the same fervor as a hot dog vendor at Kauffman Stadium.

It is reminding the congregation that they are like a ball park plate of nachos without the cheese sauce–they are not done yet and there is more goodness to come! In fact, our Lord has a lot of good things in store!

It’s preparing the way for the next pastor– so that he/she can take off running (like ol’ Mookie darting to first base).

It’s recognizing just how blessed I have been to pastor such a great church and wonderful people (unlike the 1986 Red Sox– you’re all champs in my book!)

The Apostle Paul didn’t know an “infield fly” from a “fruit fly” and he certainly never heard of Bill Buckner, but he used a sports analogy when he wrote Timothy on how he was finishing well (not simply in ministry but in life). He wrote: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. (2 Timothy 4:7) My prayer is that declaration will be said of you and me. Let’s finish well.

One Hour.

That’s what most of us devote to God in public worship each week― just one hour. (I know, I know― some of us spend two hours. I am usually in three worship gatherings on Sundays― so I spend between three and four hours in public worship gatherings. There are some people that probably do more than that― but for most people reading this little article― it’s one hour.)

There are exactly 168 hours in a week. If we attend one hour of worship a week, then we devote to God in public worship exactly .59% of our week to Him.

In the course of the year there are 8,760 hours. If we miss a few worship gatherings because of sickness, vacations, a couple of Jimmy’s soccer games, a Chiefs’ game, our second cousin’s wedding at the Precious Moments Chapel in Carthage, a get-away weekend with friends, etc then we will not even spend one half of one percent of our time in public worship in a year.

Less than one half of one percent!

I know that for many― the Sunday morning worship gathering is not their only time of worship. Lots of Christians spend time in private worship in prayer and Bible reading at home; they are involved in a life group or small group or Sunday school class where worship takes place; and they attempt to worship God throughout the day. There are a lot of people like that. But I also know there are plenty of people whose only time of worship is that one hour in church. That’s it. One hour. Less than one half of one percent of their lives in the course of a year is spent worshipping the God who created them, loves them, and died for them.

If we are going to be in the world for 8,760 hours a year― with all of the downward influences, pressures and temptations that draw our attention away from God― then the one half of one percent of our time that we intentionally set aside to corporately worship God is vital.

Because I know that is true, as a pastor I try my very best to protect that hour. We gather on Sunday morning (or Sunday night) to worship God. Period. That is what the sacred hour is all about.

It’s about worshipping the Creator of the Universe.

It’s about having a divine encounter with the One who loves us more than we can imagine.

It’s about being captivated by the Savior who came and died for us.

It’s about imagining and seeking that His will would be done on earth as it is in heaven.

The Bible says when two or more are gathered in Jesus’ name, then He is with us.   So we don’t have to invite Jesus to be in our gatherings; instead He invites us to be fully engaged in worship and to give Him all of our praise and all our attention.

As such, worship gatherings are not about seeing friends (although that happens).

It’s not about hearing the latest news on Uncle Joe’s battle with gout (although sometimes that happens).

It’s not about finding a place to sit and relax while our kids are in the nursery (although that sometimes happens).

It’s not about noticing if the music is too loud, too soft, too new, or too old. Or if the preacher was wearing jeans or a suit. Or if the room was too bright or too dark or too hot or too cold (although occasionally we focus on those things instead of God too).

It just makes sense to me that if we are only giving one half of one percent of our year to public worship then that whole time (however brief it is) should be about Jesus.

Only Jesus.

So I hope you will worship God someplace this week. Gather in Jesus’ name― singing praises to Him, hear from His word, celebrate the Lord’s supper and expect God to transform that one half of one percent of our lives into something that will sustain us, motivate us and captivate our imaginations for what God can do with the other 99.5% of our time.

The Bible is infested with bug references.  Ironically, the praying mantis is not one of them.  Although several other insects and flying creatures are referenced.  Egypt had trouble with a plague of locust. The spies coming back from the Promised Land said they looked like grasshoppers compared to the Canaanites (as we will see– being compared to a bug is never a good thing, by the way). Then, there is this “tasty” little verse buried in Leviticus: “There are, however, some flying insects that walk on all fours that you may eat: those that have jointed legs for hopping on the ground.” (Leviticus  11:21)  For the record the author of Leviticus states that grasshoppers are fine dining and bacon is a “no no.” (Burp!). Not all is bad news toward bugs, Solomon commends the ants who though small work hard in Proverbs 30.  And according to the gospels, John the Baptist ate bugs and not bacon (obviously he read Leviticus but had never visited a Bob Evans restaurant).

 My backyard is infested with bugs too.  Mostly cicadas, chiggers and spiders. Did you know it is only the male cicadas that makes those annoying loud, shrill sounds? (Gentlemen insert your own joke here about shrill noises coming from a different gender inside your home rather than outside of your home.  Before inserting your cicada/wife joke, grab your pillow you might be sleeping on the couch tonight). Chiggers are not my friends either.  They have bitten me in places no bug should ever venture.  Karla’s sworn enemy is the spider and has been known to call the neighbor to kill a particularly large eight-legged monster that had taken up residence in our basement.  And this week, a bee bit my dog on right on the nose in our back yard.  She was not a happy puppy.  Suffice it to say, like the Egyptians during Moses’ time we’ve been saying, “No more bugs.”

 Bugs in the Bible and bugs in my backward are not the only bugs that bug me.  When people take on insect like qualities that’s even worse than a swarm of bed bugs in your king size posturepedic.  For instance, have you ever noticed how gossipers sound a lot like bumble bees just buzz, buzz, buzzing with meaningless noise.  At least bees make honey– gossipers make nothing but trouble.  Mosquitoes aren’t the only blood sucking creatures on the planet. So are those whose greed doesn’t allow them to see each person as a unique, child of God whom we are called on to help.  Instead these “skeeter quality” like people seem to only be interested in what they can get out of people. And flies aren’t the only life forms that are drawn to garbage.  I’ve known people who are obsessed to the latest scandal in Hollywood, Washington DC or even their local town or church.  When the morsels of slander or tales of  sordid misdeeds are released, they gather to the news like flies on a stinky chunk of raw meat on a hot summer day.   These folks don’t  realize that there’s more to life than the latest pile of garbage.  All of these bug like qualities are worse than any flying insect type of creature found in my back yard.

 The truth is–  all of us have the potential to have bug-like attitudes and behaviors .  So if you should find yourself slipping toward “A Bug’s Life” don’t splash on the Deep Woods Off or any other bug spray, allow the Holy Spirit to work, cleanse and free you from any of those annoying qualities and behaviors.  The Israelite spies didn’t like comparing themselves to a grasshoppers when they scouted out the Promised Land, let’s not have people comparing us to gnats, fleas or ticks rather than let them say we love like the Creator of all those flying, jumping, and creepy crawly things.

 Now let’s go out loving God and all his creatures great and small (except chiggers)!

  

 

 

My church, the Church of the Nazarene, has long made attempts to be an “International Church.”   For the record, I am very glad for those efforts.  I am glad that our mission statement as a church is “to make Christ-like disciples in the nations.” I am glad we take serious Jesus’ call to go to the ends of the earth with the Gospel message.

Whether we are truly “international” in all aspects or not is a matter of debate.  Our leaders can point out the fact that two of our highest elected officers are non-North American and both  our newly elected International Youth President (Mexican) and our newly elected Missions President (United Kingdom) are also not from the USA/Canada region.  Like a slow-moving snail could have told his slow moving turtle friend, “I think we are making progress.”

Of course, the magic number we like to tout to prove our “internationalness” is 159.  We are in 159 world areas.  That’s more countries than McDonalds (100 countries) and Walmart (a measly 27 countries) combined.  Woo Hoo!  159! 

But that’s where my problem lies.

One of those 159 world areas is Syria.  The country that is the topic of much debate in Washington DC and around the world this week.

I was in the Middle East for a conference a few years ago and some Nazarenes from Syria were there.   One of the Syrians I met on the trip was a doctor.  His business card is sitting on my desk reminding me to pray for him.  I can’t help but wonder how he has fared the last couple of years.  Is he overworked tending to the injured and dying?  Will he be safe if more bombs start to fall from the sky? Is he one of the hundreds of thousands of refugees that have fled the country?   I wonder about the children that attend the Nazarene Christian school in Damascus– how have they manage through the war?  Then of course, the best man in my wedding lives in Beirut.  The U.S. government has said US citizens should leave Lebanon just in case the fighting moves past the borders of Syria.  What will happen to him and his wife and two step daughters?

So this week as our political leaders are debating to bomb or not to bomb, I’m thinking of people– the people I’ve met and know that live in that area. People who believe like I believe– my fellow Nazarene brothers and sisters.  They have the same core values that I espouse and yet live in a far more difficult, dangerous place.

I know the plan (no matter from which side of the political divide the debater is on) is not to bomb churches or schools or innocent victims– but instead to lay waste to the mad man’s military complex that enables him to gas his own people (How nuts do you have to be to gas children?). But bombs no matter how “smart” and sophisticated are not “smart” enough and sophisticated enough.  They occasionally miss their target.  Unlike golf– with bombs there are no mulligans.  Unlike horseshoes, with bombs close isn’t good enough.  When a bomb misses its intended target usually children or other innocents die.  (This happens mainly because mad men who gas their own children also put important military targets by schools or hospitals knowing full well that innocent people will be the victims of an errant bomb). All this to say, war is never good. The decision to bomb should not be met with rejoicing and pride but rather with confession and prayer.

So if you don’t mind, while political leaders and pundits debate to bomb or not to bomb, I will be praying a lot for my fellow Nazarene brothers and sisters living in a few of those 159 world areas. I will be praying that the Prince of Peace and the One that calls us to love our enemies– would somehow win this day.  I will be praying that God’s will be done in Damascus as it is in heaven and, likewise, that God’s will be done in Washington DC as it is in heaven.  Call me naive (I like to think of it as  hope filled) but I happen to believe that God’s will being done on earth as it is in heaven does not include bombs.  I will be praying for all those making decisions and all of those people that will have to live with the decisions being made this week.

Come, Lord Jesus come!

 

 

 

 

Please read the following disclaimer (that is, confession) before proceeding:  With the beginning of the National Football League’s season, I must confess I’ve been a Detroit Lions fan my whole life. You know I am a football fan if I publically admit to cheering for the Motor City Kitties. The Lions have never won a championship in my lifetime (LIFETIME!).  In fact, in my 49 years they have won exactly one playoff game.  And I’m still a Lions fan.  One time I was in a grocery store in Lenexa wearing a Detroit Lions T-shirt and the teenage grocery bagger (thinking he was being a smarty pants) said, “I bet you are the only person in Kansas City wearing a Detroit Lion’s shirt.”  To which I one upped him and replied, “Listen kid, I could be in Detroit and I would still be the only one wearing this shirt.”   To be a Lions fan is to be a hardcore football fan.

My confession not withstanding and with much fear, trembling and gnashing of teeth on the prospect of alienating my fellow football fan friends (how’s that for alliteration), I must confess that we (and too often that “we” is “me”) put too much emphasis on the high and holy pigskin.  Idols were not just for knuckleheaded Baal worshippers in the Old Testament.  There are plenty of idols today– and football for many is one of them.

I’m not advocating a boycott of the NFL.  I am not saying that watching or going to NFL games in sinful (well, unless you are an Oakland Raiders fan.  Ha!).  I’m not saying that anyone is going to hell because of fantasy football (25% of my fantasy football team roster are Detroit Lions.  File that bit of info under the heading:  “Some people never learn”).  All I am saying is that too often we get dangerously close to making a god out of a game.

So as we are about to embark upon another football season, I offer this caution to myself and every other starry eyed, “this-year-is-our-Super-Bowl” dreamer:  Keep God first.

Think of me as a referee  throwing a preemptive, penalty flag.  Visualize a graying Detroit Lions fan, walking to the middle of the field dressed out in a NFL referee black and white striped shirt; whistle around my neck; and speaking to a full stadium, “We have a 15 yard life penalty on #57 of the Christian team for unnecessarily worshipping a false god.  This action results in a loss of devotion to God and if it continues unabated to the pearly gates could lead to non entry.”

Throughout this football season (and every season of life) keep God in his proper place.  Do not allow a game, an activity, a hobby, a job, a person or the pursuit of money or happiness or anything else dominate your thoughts so that you no longer give proper worship, adoration, devotion, time, energy and praise to God Almighty.

Please remember: football is a game and God is God.   That is all– you may now continue viewing  Sportscenter for the latest news on Tim Tebow. Thank you.

This week it is Syria.

Last week it was Egypt.

It was somewhere else in the world the week before that.

This week, it was a funeral for a guy who died too young.

Last week, it was a cancer diagnosis for a guy who is too young.

And the week before that?

It was someone and something else.

This week, it was a report of a marriage in trouble.

Last week, it was a rumor of another one falling apart.

And the week before that?

Another family, another issue.

This week so many need Jesus.

Last week, they needed Him too.

And the week before that?

They needed Him then too.

With each passing week, there are

troubles,

wars,

divorce,

cancer,

sickness,

disagreements,

pain,

worries,

anger,

misunderstandings,

jealousies and

self centeredness.

I am reminded over

and over

and over again… our world needs Jesus

and so do our homes

and so do I.

Now more than ever?

Maybe.

I wasn’t around 100 years ago.

Maybe the world really needed him more then.

I can’t speak for 100 years ago, but

I know the world really needs him now.

There may be points in my life history when I needed Jesus more,

but I need him now too.

With each passing day,

I know why the Bible’s next to last verse reads: “Come, Lord Jesus!”

It’s my prayer for this week,

and next week,

and probably in the week after that–

in our world,

and in our homes,

and in our lives.

“Come, Lord, Jesus!”

10.  While praying before the meal, the pastor asks the Lord for a “water into wine” type of miracle.

9.  Instead of rushing to the front, the Jr. High boys kindly  let the senior adults go before them in the food line.

8.  You aren’t colored blind but the colors are reversed– salads are brown and meat is green.

7.  Ambulances are in the church parking lot on “stand by.”

6.  Every desert includes coconut as an ingredient.

5.  The best cook in the church brings a tuna casserole.

4.  People are reminiscing about the tasty communion wafers they had in the worship service earlier that day.

3.  The deviled eggs taste like the devil made them.

2.  There is a sign posted on the door from the health department indicating people should “enter at their own risk.”

1.  The “salads” contain jello, cottage cheese, canned pineapple or worse– the toxic combination of all three items.

 

Karla and I are not the first parents about to drive “the highway of tears” as we transport our last born child and all of his earthly belongings the 492 miles (but who’s counting) to college. As a boy, his total college belonging list includes: a pair of shoes, flip flops, a few t-shirts, a couple of hoodies, jeans, shorts, small refrigerator, an X-box system and two guitars (If he were a girl– you’d have to read an invoice three pages long– just for the shoes and accessories). I know that we are not taking Ben to the electric chair– but to an institution of higher learning (while electrifying it is hardly lethal). Still, the truth is: our lives–they are a changin’.

I trust that the college of his choice (Olivet Nazarene University in Bourbonnais, Illinois) is a fine school. They have a fine football field on which the Chicago Bears like to practice, a nice president who doesn’t want to be General Superintendent, and the largest indoor rock climbing wall north of the Mason-Dixon line (apparently the rugged students of Olivet need such a wall so they might practice scaling the peaks of the “Great Illinois Mountain Range” all winter long).

His roommate is a fine lad. Ben and he were friends at our last church– eight years ago. They really haven’t been together much in the ensuing years, and we really don’t know much about his interests or hobbies. My guess is that those interests have changed in eight years. They usually do (I haven’t seen many 18 year olds playing with Pokémon cards). So all in all, except for coming from a very fine family, we don’t know much about the young man sleeping six feet from our youngest (I seriously doubt he’s an axe murderer. Now the kid in the next room over..hmmm he might be a little shady). Ben tells us his soon-to-be roomie has a 42 inch TV. All righty then– that settles it– as far as boys are concerned–he’s “the perfect roommate.”

We don’t know the professors who will be teaching Ben (well, I know one professor. We were in college together. I hope she doesn’t remember me or if she does remember me, for Ben’s sake, I hope she doesn’t hold grudges to the next generation). We don’t know the church he will be attending (I hope he attends regularly). We don’t know the girls he might possibly ask out on dates (I tried hard at General Assembly to find him a suitable, datable young Olivetian. I’m not sure that my efforts worked). We question his dietary habits (This will shock you if you know teenage boys– he tends to eat a lot of junk food). We are concerned about his laundry and cleaning skills (I won’t talk about his bedroom in a public forum, but suffice it to say there have been times we have worried that the FBI might come looking for Jimmy Hoffa in his treacherous territory). We’ve trained and taught him and did the best we possibly could– but now he will be on his own. A fact that leaves us a little teary as we are about to drive those 492 miles.

So with the great unknown ahead for our Ben, here’s what we pray for him and all of our college students away from home:

May you never forget the lessons learned at home and in church;
May the pursuit of excellence and godliness be as strong as the pursuit of academic achievement (and higher than the pursuit of the ultimate score on the latest video game);
May these days be filled with learning and wonder and exploration and joy;
May you have fun in the dorm, in the cafeteria, in the classroom, in the gym, and throughout the campus; but not so much fun that you forget to study or do you homework.
May the friends you make be of strong moral and Christ-like character;
May you discover God’s plan and mission and purpose for your life in these years;
May in all things you long to draw closer to Jesus.

And lastly, May you call and text home frequently (not just when you need a little extra cash).

If the next time you see me, I have tear stains on my shirt– you’ll know why.

I would tell the General Superintendents, “We love you. We honor you.  But you work too much.  As such there is a new scheduling rule: Your cannot be away from your home for more than six Sundays over the course of two months. On those “off” Sundays you have to really be “off.”  No  side preaching gigs (even if the church is close by); no bringing greetings from your recent travels, no nothing. Attend worship at your home church with your spouse.  Renew your soul.  Sing, praise, and worship; be encouraged, convicted and uplifted just like every other believer in attendance. We desperately need  well rested, creative, visionary, leaders– not over-worked, over-tired, over-stressed bureaucrats. “

I would tell our international brothers and sisters:  “We need you.”  We need your input.  At the recent General Assembly– there were 159 resolutions considered.  155 of those were from the USA. Four were from the other 158 countries where there is a Nazarene presence.  I’m not a math whiz– and I’m not exactly sure what those numbers fully mean– but I don’t think it’s good.  If we are going to be a global church– we need voices from around the globe to be heard.

I would tell our USA/Canada brothers and sisters: Quit crying over living in a post-Christian America and do something.  Try to reach your neighborhood.  Try new things. Try building bridges.  Try loving the unlovable. Try. Try. Try.  Will everything work?  Nope (not even close).   But some things might. Take risks. Be adventurous. Be evangelistic.  Do not except the excuse that reaching the unchurched population is harder now. America still needs Jesus (more than ever?).  The Gospel is still the Good News that must be shared.

I would tell local churches– quit “boo hooing” over budgets too.  They are not a tax. They are not franchise fees.  If we want to make Christ-like disciples in the nations– they are a necessity.  On my district we had eleven churches that didn’t give one dime toward any of their apportionments.  Zero. Zippo. Nada. I get it that not every year is going to be a good financial year.  Sometimes the decision is light bill or college apportionment?  (Chose electricity, Mr. Edison). There might be years when “Paid in Full” is not next to your church’s name in the district journal.  It happens.  But giving zero to missions? Zero?  If just one person in the church, gave up one Starbucks’ coffee a week– that would be $250 in a year.  How can a church not give a lousy buck to missions and call themselves a place that cares about reaching the lost?  Giving to missions is doubly important when one recognizes that a far majority of the new converts are coming from one of the 158 nations not named “United States.”    

I would tell our people to celebrate baptisms more.  Baptisms are the result of conversions.  Too often “New Nazarenes” are the result of a church split at the Baptist church down the road.  I have no interest in disgruntled sheep exchanging one pasture for a greener Nazarene pasture– I have a lot of interest in seeing those completely lost sheep finding the Great Shepherd, Jesus. I believe the commission is to “Go and Baptize…” not “Go and make Nazarenes” or any other thing.  We are to make disciples, Christ-like disciples, baptizing them in the name Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” 

That’s what I would do on my first day on the job if I were the Nazarene Czar.

 

Was everyone with a child between the ages of 5 and 14 posting pictures on Facebook of their clean and pressed children in new clothes, new sneakers and new backpacks standing on their front porch ready to head out for the first day of school? It sure seemed like it. Most kids are smiling (big grins and happy faces), but a few look as if they are on their way to a root canal or the electric chair. These sad, where-did-my-summer-vacation-go kids have a grim, stoic, “those who are about to die salute you” type of expressions.

Of course, the person with the biggest smile might be the one on the other side of the camera– the mom or dad who has spent the last ten weeks making peanut butter sandwiches, hearing how boring their child’s day is and wondering how a house that was perfectly clean the night before could now pass for the featured home in the next episode of Hoarders.

We didn’t take pictures on the first day of school when I was a kid (maybe some moms did– mine didn’t). We didn’t have backpacks in those days either– you just carried your books, papers, pens, pencils, rulers, slide rule (If you have to ask– you’re too young), protractors and lunch (Let the record show, my lunch was not in the Spiderman lunchbox I begged for, but rather my PB & J was housed in a dull brown paper sack. I still contend my tummy troubles to this day are the result of not having a superhero protect my lunch as a boy). I usually got a new pair of tennis shoes (not the Converse All Stars that I wanted, but the K-Mart knock off version. A fact that explains my slow racing times in the forty yard dash at the annual Marquette Elementary Field Day.) and one pair of two-sizes-too-big Sears and Roebuck Toughskin jeans (The size discrepancy allowed me to “grow into them” or so I was told. Never mind the fact, that I was a small child and usually didn’t “grow into them” until two grades had passed.). All this to say, if my mom did take a picture of the first day of school you’d see a kid with one hand holding onto his many school supplies, one hand holding on to his pants that were about to fall down, one hand holding onto his brown paper sacked lunch (I know that’s three hands) and wearing dorky K-Mart tennis shoes that would make even a three handed boy wish for a fourth hand to cover his face. I’m glad we didn’t take pictures back then.

The first day of school has certainly changed since I attended the Marquette Elementary School.

But this hasn’t changed: Our kids still need us to pray for them as they embark on a new school year.

Pray for your child or grandchild or neighbor’s child.
Pray for that child’s teacher.
Pray for the principal.
Pray for the para-professionals who are helping your student.
Pray for the school office staff and school janitors.
Pray for the school nurse.
Pray for the other children in the school.
Pray for those boys and girls who might feel the need to bully other children.
Pray for those children who are coming to school from troubled homes or are hungry or sick.
Pray for those children that excel in academic settings.
Pray for those students that don’t.
Pray for the coaches, music teachers, and art teachers.
Pray for the bus driver.
Pray for the crossing guards.
Pray for the lunch room workers.
Pray for the hall monitors.
Did I miss anyone? Pray for all those who are involved in any way in educating our children.
Pray for those that are homeschooled and those that are taught in alternative locations too.

Pray for all those who are beginning this school year– that God might bless them, keep them and shine his light upon them. It’s a new school year. Let’s pray it’s a good year (even if the your kid has to navigate throughout the year without the benefit of Converse All-Stars or a Spiderman lunchbox).

1.  Smallsville (Our town is too small. Our facilities are too small. Our crowd is too small)

        False.

A) With the lone exception of  Monowi, Nebraska (population: 1) most every town has residents that need Jesus.

B) There weren’t any church buildings until around 400 AD and the early believers seemed to manage just fine without them.  Besides they saved money on the electric bill..

c) Jesus had a group of 12 men and they all deserted him– but once they got their Acts together (Did you see what I did there?   It was a little thing called “Pentecost” described in Acts 2 that made the difference)– That little group turned the world upside down.

 

2.  Oops-itus. (We have the wrong ________  Pick your problem from the following choices: preacher, crowd or music).

         False.

What people care about more than music, demographics and sermons is: Are they loved?  Forget “If you build it they will come,” the correct motto should be “if you love them they will come.”

 

3.  Mega-envy.  (Only mega churches grow).

         False. 

Churches grow all over the world and never obtain “mega church” status.

There are great loving churches under 1,000 in attendance.

There are great loving churches that average under 100 in attendance.

There are great loving churches that average under 50 in attendance. 

There are even great loving churches that meet in a home and average under 20 in attendance. 

 

4.  Blame  (It’s not me, God hasn’t sent people our way).

         Maybe true maybe not. 

If we believe in a loving sovereign God, then it makes sense that God would direct some people to other churches rather than to send people to a dysfunctional or damaging church.  But it may be equally true that no new people have darkened your doors because no one has invited a new person since the Carter Administration.   

 

5.  Burp!  (Of course we’d never say it, but we care more about potlucks, softball games, and ladies craft nights than reaching the lost.)

         Most likely true.

Not once did Jesus teach us the value of “the covered dish;” or instruct Peter and Andrew how to turn a double play; and he rarely (read: never) gave scrapbooking or needlepoint tips. But he did tell us to make disciples, love the lost, and help the hurting.

 

6.  Busy (We are busy people.  We’d like to do more, but we don’t have time to _____________ –pick one: pray enough, evangelize enough, try enough or risk enough).

Most definitely true. 

The biggest enemy of evangelism is not a post-Christian America, millennials who want to leave the church, or worship wars within the church– the biggest enemies of evangelism are our busy schedules that eliminate prayer and the time to organize, plan, dream and execute the strategy to reach our generation.

 

In honor of this week’s District Assembly on the Kansas City District, I give you:

Ten Unwritten Rules for District Assembly

10. If you don’t have candy or gum to share with your fellow delegates, according to the new manual they have a right to vote you into being a Baptist.

9. Any pastor that fills his/her pastor’s report with riveting tales about building projects, bathroom renovations or paint choices in the teen area will be required to read The Master Plan of Evangelism and give a book report at next year’s assembly.

8. If it is not the ordination service and you are wearing a coat and tie, you had better be the District Superintendent or an insurance salesman who got lost on his way into the office.

7. If you catch, giggle and then report to your friends that the General Superintendent was napping during the spellbinding pastors’ reports don’t be shocked when your next assignment is in Outer Mongolia or some equally appealing location (Read: Cleveland).

6. If you can name each country from the flags displayed during the mission service, you win a free trip to Papua New Guinea (no expenses paid).

5. Starting this year, pastors from all churches that did not pay their World Evangelism Fund in full will be forced to stand and sing, “We’ve a story to tell to the nations.”

4. Earn extra points by standing up and shouting, “I object! Your honor” during the report from the District Appeals Committee.

3. Fitting into a pair of skinny jeans might be easier for some delegates than fitting into the musical style of the NYI service. Solution: Bring ear plugs and smile.

2. When bored here are a few suggestions:
A. Send a note to the District Superintendent (via a page) asking, “Why in the texting era do we need pages?” Then text him, “LOL”
B. Find someone who looks like Phineas Bresee; during a break get him to sign your Phineas bobble head.
C. See how many words you can find in “Elmer Schmelzenbach.”

1. When voting and you don’t know any of the candidates always vote for the most Biblical sounding name (i.e. John, Peter, Mary, and Methuselah get in– Duane, Courtney and Charlie are out).

Ordination is a big deal.  A really big deal.  It’s the church affirming God’s call upon a minister’s life. 

As a young teenager, I felt God was calling me into a life time of Christian service. But it wasn’t until sixteen years, a high school diploma, two degrees from Nazarene institutions and several years of church work later, that Dr. Raymond Hurn finally placed his hands on my head and ordained me at the altar of Detroit First Church of the Nazarene.  From that first moment of “maybe God is speaking to me” to the General Superintendant giving me the charge to minister in Jesus name– there were plenty of meetings, classes, prayer times, conversations, reflection and ice cream (I’m not saying ice cream helps discern God’s will– but it doesn’t hurt). 

Ordination was the church saying, “You were not a silly teenager when you thought you heard God’s voice at the  campfire after-service gathering on the Eastern Michigan District Campgrounds led by Roy Quanstrom for the handful of mostly seventh graders who happened to show up.  You were not crazy.  It wasn’t the effects of an extra spicy burrito on the night you first sensed God calling you.  What you believe was a divine encounter–  we believe was real and genuine. We believe God spoke to you.  We believe God called you.  We believe you have certain gifts and abilities that God can use.” At my ordination the church gave a reassuring and confident “Yes” to what God had already done in my life and what he might do in the future.  It was a huge moment in my life.  Ordination is a big deal.

In the Church of the Nazarene they don’t just ordain anyone who has a teary eyed testimony.  There are hours of classes that must be taken.  One must be involved in real ministry on a full time basis (at least 30 hours a week) for three years and even longer if the minister is part time.  Those wishing to be ordained must also meet several times before the District Credentials Board (it might not be as scary as an IRS audit review, but it’s close.  I know I’ve been a card carrying member of a District Credentials board for the last 22 years and sometimes by the end of the day we get grumpy). All this to say, ordination takes time.  It doesn’t happen overnight.  It’s not always easy. It’s a really big deal. 

The credential board doesn’t just look for correct theological answers, they also look for the content of the person’s character and a demonstration of a supernatural encounter and calling.  Paul told Titus a few things to look for in an elder:  The reason I left you in Crete was that you might straighten out what was left unfinished and appoint elders in every town, as I directed you. An elder must be blameless, the husband of but one wife, a man whose children believe and are not open to the charge of being wild and disobedient. Since an overseer is entrusted with God’s work, he must be blameless–not overbearing, not quick-tempered, not given to drunkenness, not violent, not pursuing dishonest gain. Rather he must be hospitable, one who loves what is good, who is self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined. He must hold firmly to the trustworthy message as it has been taught, so that he can encourage others by sound doctrine and refute those who oppose it. (Titus 1:5-9)

I think those are still the qualities we look for in an Elder.  Those ordained must display a life worthy of the calling that God has placed upon them. They must tell it, show, and live it.   So when the minister can abide by all of the qualifications– he or she is recommended for ordination.  Did I mention– ordination is a big deal? It is.  A REALLY big deal.

Next week at our District Assembly (General Superintendant Jerry Porter willing) four people from Central Church will be ordained:  David Cooper, Jon Gildner, Malorri Seamon and Tanner Stevens.  All four have completed the process and have proven to be a faithful candidate for ordination.  They’ve answered all the questions.  Taken all the classes.  Served in various places.  They are prepared.

Ordination will be one of the most powerful life moments for each of them– and so I would encourage you to make plans to attend the service at College Church in Olathe on  Thursday, August 8 at 7pm.  We want to help celebrate God’s working in these who we know and love and who have dedicated their lives to serve the Lord.  We want to share in their joy.  And we will want to affirm that we will keep them in our prayers as they continue to minister in Jesus name!  Ordination is a really big deal– we will want to be there for our friends!

1.) The Pastoral Staff are real pastors. Last week, our executive pastor preached a great sermon (really great) and a parishioner came to me afterward and basically said, “Oh I was hoping my real pastor would have preached today.” I reminded this member that a real pastor did preach– and preached a great sermon. At Central Church, we have 11 pastors on staff. 10 have a master’s degrees and after this year all but two will be ordained. They are trained, experienced and able to lead.

2. ) Summers are crazy (especially) if you are involved in student ministries. Camps + Mission Trips + 6th and 7th Grade Escapes + Vacation Bible School + District Assemblies + General Assembly = very little time for one’s family. One pastor came home from camp and had her hair covered in mayonnaise for an hour because of a lice outbreak at camp. (That’s going above and beyond the call of duty!) Remember to pray for our pastoral staff’s families.

3.) Volunteer Pastors are my heroes. We have three pastors who receive no salary from Central church– and yet they serve with distinction. Working a full time job outside of the church, these heroes of mine give their spare time to the service of the Lord (FYI our volunteer pastors all have a Masters of Divinity from Nazarene Theological Seminary. All will be ordained after this year. Two are elders and one is a deacon).

4.) Our Pastors are called by God, serve him well and are very talented. This summer our Senior High Pastor spoke at a camp in Maryland; the Cross cultural pastor spoke at a camp in Mexico; the Middle School pastor directed the district Teen Camp and our Executive Pastor’s wife directed 3rd and 4th grade camp. Earlier this year our Children’s pastor spoke at a Children’s pastor’s leadership training and spoke at a workshop at General Assembly. Our Executive Pastor is the brains behind the EPIC curriculum at NPH. We have a sought after and talented bunch.

5.) The pastoral staff regularly prays for you. Every Tuesday morning some of the pastors and usually a board member gather at the altar at 7 AM to pray for the needs of Central and for you. They pray on Sunday mornings and during staff meetings too. They pray at different times for you. The staff understands our first order is to be people of prayer.

All this to say, we are blessed by the pastoral staff at Central and I am blessed to work with them.

My dear sweet bride was supposed to jump out of an airplane on her Big Birthday in June, but because of an afternoon typhoon she was unable to skydive that day. Most sane people would take that as a sign that maybe stepping out of an airplane door when it is 14,500 feet above planet earth (That’s nearly 3 miles up in the sky, by the way) is not a good idea. OK most sane people would not even contemplate canon-balling out of a Cessna in the first place even if it was a Big Birthday.

I am not inferring anything about the sanity (or lack thereof) of my wife, I will simply write that the rain did not deter her from marking off the lone item on her bucket list.

This past Saturday she jumped.

It was a tandem jump– which meant that Karla was closer to her male instructor than she has ever been with any man except for yours truly. It was little weird and kinda awkward for her to be literally attached to another man at the hips and shoulders. By the way, her instructor’s name was “Hack.” Would you really want to put your life in the hands of a man named “Hack”? Isn’t that like letting a surgeon named “Dr. Oops” operate on you? No thank you.

In spite of that, the plane took off with several people on board including Laurie Deuschle (another Central skydiving dare devil), Karla and Hack. Hack was actually quite skilled, having made over 1800 successful jumps (It goes without saying that his jumps were “successful,” I am sure he would no longer be an instructor if he had made even one “unsuccessful” jump). At any rate, they all went up into the wild blue yonder and even though the airplane was experiencing absolutely no malfunctions– they jumped out. Karla and Hack were in a free fall for 53 seconds (or the exact amount of time for me to lift up about a million prayers) as they hurled toward the earth reaching a top speed of 136 miles an hour(or the exact speed my heart was racing). Then finally oh so finally Hack pulled the cord. Thankfully, the parachute opened, they gently floated down to earth and all was well.

Here’s what I find remarkable about the whole event:
At no point during the jump was Karla nervous.
She had zero nervousness.
Not before the jump while getting the parachute strapped on, not flying in the plane and not taking her one giant leap for preacher’s wives everywhere. She wasn’t nervous.

I would have been. Let’s just say I would have been so nervous I would have needed to bring a change of clothes with me. Just watching her jump (while I was safely stuck on the ground) I was nervous. I was nervous watching her go into the plane. I was nervous thinking about her jumping. I was nervous as I saw her plummeting from the sky. I was nervous. But not her.

I asked her, “How can you jump out of a airplane three miles high with Hack on your back and not be nervous?”

She said, “I don’t know, I guess because I prayed.”

Listen, I could have just come from a 24 hour prayer service led by Billy Graham himself, and I still would have been a nervous wreck if I was jumping out of a airplane. (Maybe that says more about my prayer life than my nervous Nellie ways). But Karla was convinced prayer made the difference .

She is in good company. The Apostle Paul thought that prayer made all the difference when it comes to nervousness and anxiety too. He wrote: Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. (Philippians 4:6)

Are you nervous? Is something weighing on your heart? Paul said “in every situation” we can pray. “Every situation” means whether you are 14,500 feet in the sky or firmly planted on terra cotta prayer makes a difference. If life is burdening you down then hollering out “Geronimo” probably won’t help. But calling out to God definitely will!

Last week in this space I wrote about the “Seven Expectation of a Church Board Member.” So this week, I give you “The Preacher’s One Job” (Before you say, “Hey wait a minute, a church board member has SEVEN expectations and the preacher only has ONE job?” Please remember, preaching is only one aspect of my job. There are many other hats I must wear and many other expectations that I have as a pastor.).

As a preacher my ONE job is to:

Deliver Jesus.

Not deliver a sermon.
Not deliver a finely crafted manuscript.
Not deliver a memorable homily.
Not deliver a historic oration.
Not deliver a well reasoned lecture.
Not deliver a funny story, three points and a tear jerker conclusion.
Not deliver a social commentary.
Not deliver a well developed speech.
Not deliver a 30 minute book report on the Bible.
Not deliver a few moral platitudes that make everyone feel a little better about themselves.

Deliver Jesus.

Period.

People need to see Jesus in our preaching. If they don’t receive Jesus then we are simply jabbering meaningless words, cheering on a pep rally, or gathering with friends.

My prayer is that every time I step up to preach the listeners will encounter Jesus as the answer to their life’s deepest needs. I want them to experience Jesus as their hope and help. I want them to know Jesus as their only way to salvation.

It’s about Jesus and nothing more than Jesus.

I want to deliver Jesus.