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.

Sanctify is our current sermon series at Central. As you might hazard a guess with such a title, the series is devoted to proclaiming that God was actually serious when He said (over and over in the Bible), “Be holy as I am holy.” We’ve been camping out in 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24 and basically (ALERT: sharing a preacher’s secret) the messages have been the same each week, just repackaged in a different way. Over and over I’ve been telling people a very simple formula. When one invites Jesus into his or her heart— Jesus comes in. No jumping through hoops required. It’s quite simple. Ask and you shall receive. Simple. Through God’s grace we get all of Jesus at that point. It’s not a partial amount; we don’t get half Jesus now and some more of Jesus later. We get all of God— from top to bottom when we are saved. So the formula looks like this:

Salvation = Getting all of God.

The sanctification formula, on the other hand, looks like this:

Sanctification = God getting all of us.

Like at the point of salvation, one isn’t sanctified holy because they are doing more or working harder or have learned the secret handshake (What secret handshake? I must have missed the secret handshake day in my doctrine of holiness class with Dr. Kenneth Grider). Salvation and sanctification are both free gifts from God. To be sanctified through and through, God does a deep heart cleansing work in us. It’s God’s action, God’s power and God’s might at work in a person. I can’t make myself holy. I can’t will it, earn it, or script it. If I am going to be holy— it is only as God Himself makes me holy in every nook and cranny of my life.

So that’s what I’ve been preaching— over and over the past few weeks. Salvation is getting all of God; sanctification is God getting all of us.

Well, this past Sunday night following the second sermon in the Sanctify series, one of our young teens was getting ready to volunteer at a Christian camp. As part of the application process to serve at the camp, she had to write down her faith journey.

She wrote that she became a Christian at age 3. She was baptized at age 8. And then she wrote, “and today God got all of me!” She explained to her mom that during the response time in the morning service she had slipped out of her pew, went to the altar and “God got all of her.” Her parents hadn’t noticed that she even when down to the altar (taller students were blocking their view). She was convinced that God had done something deep within her that morning! What a great moment!

In 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24, Paul declares that God’s desire is for us to be sanctified through and through, but he also affirms that God is faithful and He will do it. One of our teenagers discovered that good news for herself on Sunday morning! She not only has all of God, but now God has all of her! Holy living is possible in the 21st century— and you don’t have to have white hair to live it.

1. I expect church board members to be growing spiritually. This is my primary concern for you. We need your business sense and your ministry experience, but more than anything we need leaders who are making a concerted effort to be more like Jesus every day.

2. I expect you to participate in discussions. Board meetings are not meant to be a rubber stamp of the pastor’s ideas— good board meetings are characterized by Jesus’ approach to life. John 1:14 says Jesus was full of grace and full of truth. Truth means we must be honest no matter what. Grace means we must love each other no matter what. Let all of our discussions be colored by truth and grace.

3. I expect you to push the pastors and yourself to greater things. Help us to dream bigger dreams and expect a more powerful working of the Holy Spirit. Let’s never be satisfied with the status quo.

4 I expect church board members to be a cheerleader(minus the short skirts and back flips) for the church and the pastoral staff. No church is perfect; no pastor is always right– but we must be a positive supporter of the church before our congregation and in the community. Negativity sucks. It sucks all the joy, expectations and the energy from any organization. Be positive.

5. I expect you to pray. Pray for the church, the office staff, facilities crew, Sunday School teachers, choir and band members, nursery workers, pastors and everybody else serving the Lord at Central. Pray also for the needs of our community and our world. Be a person of prayer.

6. I expect faithful giving. Leaders that don’t tithe– should not be making financial decisions for those that do. Good leaders are models of generosity.

7. I expect board members to enjoy the opportunity to serve in this role. Not every board meeting is a campmeeting service or a “thrill-a-minute” joy ride– but every board meeting should reflect a deep satisfaction that the Lord’s work is being accomplished and we are blessed to be a part of what God is doing.

It happens in four days. 

Just four days.

The hardship and dismay you’ve endured since last November is about to be over.  Your long nightmare will soon come to an end. There are just four days left before this year’s version of Christmas morning, the greatest birthday celebration, and the Superbowl are all rolled into one day.

 “What world shaking event happens in four days?” you dare to ask.

Have you been living under a rock? 

Did the warden not give you TV privileges? 

Did you take a few too many ambien, Mr. Van Winkle?

 On July 15, 2013 (I can’t believe I actually have to explain this historic moment. In a sheer coincidence, that day also happens to be the birthday of a former Detroit Lion and one of the greatest American actors of the 1970s, Alex Karras.) after bankruptcy, factories shut down, labor disputes and other assorted troubles— the delicious American icon, Twinkies, will be back in the stores!

 That’s right— the yummy Hostess snack cakes that have been giving sugar highs to children for over 80 years are coming back! And some people wonder if God still answers prayer— he answered mine, my friend. He answered mine!

 Not only will the treat that has delighted the masses return on Monday in its full 37 ingredient glory, (That’s right it takes 37 different ingredients to produce the sugary goodness of the Twinkie. FYI— I think there were less components in the first nuclear bomb, but of course the nuclear bomb wasn’t nearly as destructive as the cream-filled, sugar-laced, spongy morsels of junk food.) Hostess brand says that on Monday, 50 million Twinkies will be available. That should be plenty for me— but I’m not sure what the rest of America will do.

 Not only will Twinkies be back— they will be better than ever. The new Twinkies will have an extended shelf life. The old Twinkies could sit on your shelf collecting dust for 26 days. The new Twinkies will last 45 days! They are a food preservative work of art. I am not sure which of the 37 ingredients was added to extend the life of the Hostess brand’s specialty, but I think the mad scientist who came up with the secret ingredient should win a Nobel Prize. In fact, for a moment, I thought I wouldn’t mind if “Dr. Strangelove of the Snack Cake World” would inject me with that same ingredient— double my shelf life, please.

 But then I realized that no injections are necessary— not when you believe in Jesus.

What does Jesus have to do with Twinkies (besides any Biblical references to gluttony of course)? Just hold on— I can relate just about everything to Jesus if you give me enough time (they teach you that stuff in seminary).  

 Jesus said, “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only son that whosoever believes on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” And in nearly every funeral for a Christian, I quote Jesus’ words in John 11: “I am the resurrection and the life, he who believes in me, will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” In other words, belief in Jesus gives a person an even longer shelf life than the new and improved Twinkie— and He does it gluten free and with less calories!!   

 Lesson learned: Twinkies are good. Jesus is better. 

What is the most patriotic thing you could possibly do on July 4^th?

 

Attend a parade?

Watch a fireworks display?

Set off a few firecrackers and smoke bombs in your backyard (not in Lenexa—it’s a firecracker free zone)?

Enjoy a picnic with friends?

Dress in red, white and blue attire?

Sing The Star Spangled Banner (Not like Lady Gaga or Marvin Gaye—just sing it loud and long)?

Attend a ballgame?

Quote the Gettysburg Address?

Dress up like Uncle Sam and run a 5K race? (Not naming names, but I know a certain Sr. High youth pastor who wanted to do that and have his wife dress up like the Statue of Liberty. She said, “No!” I guess she’s not very patriotic.)   

Eat some apple pie?

Write a soldier a letter?

Visit a war memorial?

Listen to a John Phillips Sousa song?

Wave a flag?

How about this: Humble oneself, pray, and turn from all wicked ways. 2 Chronicles 7:14 says: “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

While all of the above items are good in their own right (except for blowing up things in your backyard according to the Lenexa police and my friend “Lefty”), the most patriotic thing any of us can do is earnestly seek God and pray for His forgiveness and healing in our land.    

I long for God to do something in America that is real and deep and pure. I pray for the day when God’s desires will be accomplished in the United States “as it is in heaven.”

This Independence Day, take some time out of your barbeque eating, fireworks watching, Sousa listening and pray for God to work in America in a new and fresh way. 

Praying for the United States of America is the most patriotic thing you could do!

Yesterday’s Supreme Court ruling regarding gay marriage reminded me that my beliefs and the dominant cultural beliefs are not always the same. I believe that a strong view of the Bible will increasingly put me at odds with our culture. So what do I do? Many Christian folks on social media took one of several approaches.

There were those who were like:

1) Sergeant Schultz. Anyone under 40 may have never watched the TV Show Hogan’s Heroes and might not remember Schultz. So let me explain, Hogan’s Heroes was based in a World War II German POW camp. The POWs were always pulling a fast one over the Nazis and working with the resistant “underground.” But there was one German guard, Sergeant Shultz, who was a lovable, chocolate-bar-eating, Teddy-Bear type of guy. I always felt a little sorry for Shultz. He seemed to be a guy placed in a position he didn’t want to be in. So, whenever Sergeant Shultz saw something that POWs were not supposed to be doing (i.e. sending a telegram to the Allies giving away strategic Nazi positions or building a bomb to be used on an ammunitions factory in Dusseldorf) Schultz’s response was always, “I see nothing. I hear nothing.”

 His approach: Ignore the “problem.” Pretend to not see or hear anything that he wasn’t supposed to see or hear.

Some people did that yesterday. Ignoring what was taking place at the Supreme Court, these head-in-the-sand believers simply didn’t want to see or think or dwell on the implications of the justices’ decision.

 The problem is that if we “Sergeant Schultz” it— sooner (rather than later) the culture will ignore us too and say we are irrelevant, meaningless and don’t speak to issues that matter.

2) Milli Villini. Do you remember Milli Vanilli? Milli Vanilli became one of the most popular pop acts in the late 1980s and early 1990s. They won the Grammy Award for Best New Artist in 1990. However, their success turned to infamy when their Grammy was revoked after it came out that the lead vocals on the record album were not sung by Milli or Vanilli (I don’t think that was their real names). Their “concerts” were nothing more than lip syncing to someone else’s voices.

 I know Christians who just want to lip sync along with culture. They imitate culture. You can’t tell any difference between them and the dominant culture.

 The problem with “Milli Vanilling it” is that imitating culture also leads to irrelevancy.  If we don’t shape the culture, the culture will shape us. If we are not a separate, holy people—if our world doesn’t see that Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit makes a difference in our lives—then what incentive is there to becoming a Christian? Why follow Christ if there is no difference between those that follow Him and those that don’t? 

 3) Fred Phelps. He’s the Westboro Baptist Church guy in Topeka with the vile picket signs at soldiers’ funerals. He spews hate and says God hates this and God hates that and if you disagree, God hates you. He vehemently condemns culture.

I saw a lot of condemnation on Facebook and Twitter yesterday. Not to the degree of ol’ Fred, but close. Condemnation seems to be a bit of a cop out or (at best) plain laziness. It’s easy to condemn a Supreme Court decision. It’s not hard to find reasons to protest the direction that our society is heading. But if we are committed to seeing the transformation of society, then it seems that more than condemnation is needed. We need to offer a better solution. Wagging fingers and shouting condemnation seems to be less effective than if we were to offer better alternatives.

When we “Fred Phelps it” and all the world hears is condemnation from the church, soon it will be like my grandpa’s hearing aid when grandma became a little too naggy. He just turned it off. I wonder if most in our culture have already tuned out the church.

Or lastly we could be like my neighbor growing up…

4) Mr. Bilow. (I don’t know his first name… I’m pretty sure it wasn’t “Mister.” And I don’t know whether or not he was a Christian. I was just a kid when Mr. Bilow was our neighbor.) Here’s what I do know about Mr. Bilow. He worked on old cars. He restored them. Tow trucks would drag broken down jalopies into his driveway; Mr. Bilow would push the cars into his garage; and then he would begin to work. In many ways, Mr. Bilow was an artist. A car would begin as a rusty, ugly mess and end as a gleaming, restored vintage automobile. Mr. Bilow looked at those broken down vehicles and saw what they could become.

I wish that was us. Our culture needs followers of Christ who see what others cannot see. They need us to be creative and dreaming of something better. They need us to view our world though a God-sized lens and imagine the possibilities of what could happen when God declares, “I am making all things new.” They need us to roll up our sleeves and get to the work of offering our world God-sized solutions. A creative, God-influenced approach to our culture doesn’t involve ignoring, imitating and condemning—but rather it’s all about His Kingdom coming on earth as it is in heaven. It’s creative, dynamic and powerful.

Paul reminded a handful of believers in a thoroughly pre-Christian culture in Thessalonica that “Our gospel came to you not simply with words but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction.” (1 Thessalonians 1:5)

Following yesterday’s Supreme Court ruling, our culture, more than ever, needs that type of Gospel— one that approaches culture “not simply with words.” Our world needs a Gospel message that has power, the Holy Spirit and a deep conviction. For transformation to take place in our society, we will need to be less like Sergeant Schultz, Milli Vanilli and Fred Phelps and more like Mr. Bilow. Relying on the dynamic, creative, powerful work of the Holy Spirit, we need to offer a better way to our broken down culture through our loving actions.

 

Since the Nazarene General Assembly is gathering in Indianapolis this week, and several of my friends may be bored to tears sitting in seminars and endless meetings, I have put together this little story to entertain and test one’s Nazarene trivia knowledge.  See if you can locate all 39 General Superintendants (plus the guy who was elected twice but never served) in the story below (Hint: Gerald and Talmadge have the same last name and are listed only once). 

 

Once upon a time there was a huge castle on a windy coast in a kingdom known as Strickland. It was once home to Prince Lewis Middendorf and his trusty butler Reynolds.  Unfortunately the prince of Strickland had many debts that he incurred while searching for the beautiful and wise Lady Ellyson in the rocky crags of Coulter. Moreover, Jenkins, his royal accountant misappropriated funds from the royal treasury and his great house went into foreclosure.   The legal firm of Morrison, Owens and Hurn filed for Chapter 11 in a bankruptcy hearing and turned the prince’s castle into an indoor water park to recoup the lost money. 

 Everyday people from all over Strickland (occasionally a few people from the neighboring kingdom of Lawlor would show up) to frolic in the Middendorf Indoor Water Park.  While sad for the homeless prince, the local Strickland residents were happy because they loved to swim, the bowling alley closed and it was too bresee to fly kites (their other love).

 Once inside the park, a porter would quickly stowe a family’s bags, enabling them to spend more time at the pool where they would make friends, share laughs and bond for life. 

 A very old life guard named Gunter (a no nonsense former swimming coach from East Berlin) viewed his job as doing anything in his powers to protect and serve the swimming area both day and knight. 

“My eyes vill not vander. Pool vill be safe from young hooligans! I am toler, stronger, and don’t let this walker fool you—I vill make you obey!” he would say in his thick German accent.  

In spite of his valiant efforts, playful games of Marco Polo and a massive cannonball dunk known as “The Duarte” would turn the pool area into a water warr.  

“Ick!” yelled the girls not wanting their hair to get wet. 

Of course, it was all in good fun and no one was really upset except for Gunter’s nease, a young lady named Benner.  “How can you splash me?” she cried to the two ringleaders of the water wars– John, son of a miller, and William, son of Wilson (the actor who starred with Tom Hanks in a movie a few years back). John was a good chap, man of many talents, and a fancy dresser.  William’s mind was cunning, ham for attention like his dad, and a great debater.

      “It’s only water. It won’t hurt you. How many people are in graves because of a little water?”  They convinced her they meant no ill will.  So Benner, John and William agreed to stop arguing and make up for good.  Win a game of water wars was not worth making enemies.   

 When it was time to leave all agreed they had a good diehl of fun at the Middendorf Indoor Water Park and everyone except for the homeless prince and his trusty butler lived happily ever after.

 The End!

 Will the following please accept my apologies:

1)  The non Nazarene readers of this article—I understand that you may neither know nor care about the General Superintendants listed or not listed above; and

2)  All lovers of the English language of which I took many liberties in the writing of this article.

General Assembly begins this week in Indianapolis. If it’s like past General Assemblies, I will…

 Participate in inspiring worship

Speculate on who might be elected General Superintendant

Enjoy good sermons

See old friends

Forget some names of people I should have remembered.

Learn of exciting new works around the world

Wonder why anyone would protest a church group (there always seems to be some protester around)

Have one or two people think I’m “Fred” (my brother)

Sing a couple of songs that I wish we would learn at Central

Answer more questions on headaches than I care to answer

Proudly notice all of our students who have been working for “One Heart Many Hands”

Attend a few meetings

Marvel at how many people from Central Church are there

Eat too much

Visit the Nazarene Publishing House Book area

Hope to get a few cool things from the vendors in the exhibit hall

Smile at a few jokes I’ve already heard
Enjoy communion with all my Nazarene brothers and sisters

 

General Assemblies are kind of like a family reunion. All your relatives are there—the nice and kind ones and the weird and wild ones. But it’s our family—you gotta love ‘em.    

Would you pray for this week? Pray that God would work in the midst of all the happenings and that His will would be known and accomplished.

Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane has as much appeal to me as jumping into a perfectly erupting volcano.

It ain’t gonna happen.

My adventurous wife, on the other hand, has had skydiving on her bucket list for as long as I have known her. Karla loves thrills. She loves roller coasters. She has ridden the Rip Cord Ride at Worlds of Fun that pulls dare devils up on a bungee cord and lets them go falling toward the earth. She has no fear.

On one of our trips, she excitedly came to me and informed me that she had signed us (not herself but US— her and me) up for a nine-story-high, through-the-jungle zip line excursion. When she saw the horror on my face, it dawned on her that I didn’t share her sense of adventure. “Oh, you probably won’t like this, will you? Too late! I already paid for it. No refunds.”

She is adventurous and cheap.

This year is her BIG Birthday year (I will refrain from saying what Big Birthday it is for fear that she is also adventurous and vengeful, but trust me it’s a BIG one). So I said, “This is your year. Your birthday is on a Saturday. You could skydive on your Big Birthday.”

It didn’t take much convincing. This Saturday, assuming the rain and wind stay away, my lovely bride will celebrate her Big Birthday by stepping out of an airplane while it is flying 3,000 feet in the air. Crazy!
Trying to assure me that she will be OK, Karla told me her skydiving verse was Romans 8:28: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him.”

I told her maybe her skydiving verse should be Matthew 4:7: “Do not put the Lord thy God to the test.”
In any event, she is jumping while my feet will be firmly planted on planet earth.  But I won’t just be standing staring up to the sky. I assure you I will be fervently praying. I have fervently prayed before, but I anticipate that from the time Karla steps out of the plane to when the parachute finally opens, I will be a praying mad man. Seeing your bride prove the law of gravity while dropping at 9.8 meters per second squared (my high school physics lessons are paying off) tends to make one a prayer warrior.

Have you been transformed into a prayer warrior?

If you have loved ones who are not following Christ with their lives and have never been captivated by the love and grace of God— then you too should be a praying mad man (or woman). If we really believe that eternity hangs in the balance of our loved ones; if we really believe that they are on a collision course with their destiny; then maybe a little fervency is what we need in our prayer life. Maybe we should be praying for them like one’s wife is plunging toward the earth!

Don’t let them fall without a fight. Pray and don’t stop praying!

Geronimo! Your loved ones need your praying like their life depends on it— because it does.

This week I spoke to someone who recently read my manuscript and he was very complimentary. I don’t always handle compliments well—but I was grateful for the feedback. I think I said “Thank you” fifteen times in course of our conversation (at least it seemed that way to me).

But I didn’t write that book for personal accolades or “ataboys.”  Just as God called me to preach in the summer prior to my seventh grade year, he called me to write while pastoring about 17 years ago. He didn’t call me to sell a bunch of copies or to make the New York Times best seller list. But he did call me to write.  So, when I sit in front of this keyboard and start pounding away, in many ways it is an act of obedience.

I knew I had to write.
It was a fire in my bones.

So writing for me was not about a book committee at the publishing house or even whatever readers might hopefully be helped by the book. It was a matter of trusting and obeying—  trusting that the God who called would help me accomplish what He called me to do. I didn’t know if anyone but Karla and I would read it. I didn’t know if I would have the courage to let someone else read (and critique) it. I just knew that I had to write.

My part is done (well, done except for working with the editors)— everything that follows after the writing is in God’s hands.

In many ways Isaiah 30:8 is my writing verse from the Lord:
Go now, write it on a tablet for them,
inscribe it on a scroll,
that for the days to come
it may be an everlasting witness…

“An everlasting witness”— that’s what I want my book to be. I want it to be an everlasting witness not on my abilities to capture a thought with a pen and paper but an everlasting witness on the faithfulness to God.
What is God calling you to do? How are you trusting and obeying the Lord? Will you have an “everlasting witness?”

Today, Karla and I are taking Ben to his freshman orientation at Olivet Nazarene University in Bourbonnais, Illinois. According to MapQuest, the distance from my driveway to Olivet’s campus is 500 miles (492.78 miles to be exact—sometimes preachers like to round up). Our first born, Alex, has attended MidAmerica Nazarene University in Olathe, Kansas the last three years. It is one mile from our driveway to his dorm room (1.1 mile to be exact—sometimes preachers round down too).

There is a big difference between 500 miles and one mile.
If Alex’s car breaks down between his dorm and our house, it would take him less than 15 minutes to walk home.

If Ben’s car breaks down between his dorm and our house during Thanksgiving break (A real possibility if you’ve seen Ben’s car and assuming Ben doesn’t get lost—a huge assumption if you know anything about my directionally-challenged cherub), he might make it home in time for Christmas dinner (or he might end up in Hoboken, New Jersey).

If Alex forgets something in his room—it’s a quick little trip to get it.

If Ben forgets something in his room (that is a stone cold certainty if you know anything about my sometimes memory-challenged cherub)—it’s a seven hour drive.

During the school year, I get to see Alex every Sunday in church. Then following the service on most Sundays, he comes home for dinner. He usually has found a reason to come home during the week too. We’ll see Ben just a little more frequently than Haley’s comet (or so his mother thinks).

All this to say, today as I am driving to Olivet to begin the process for his enrollment this fall, I am also aware of changes that will soon be coming to our family.

Last week, Alex asked his long time girlfriend, Blaire, to marry him. She said “yes,” and in a year wedding bells will be ringing.

More changes.

Change happens.

It’s part of life.

Normal doesn’t stay “normal” forever—a new normal becomes normal.

Here’s what brings me peace in an ever-changing life: Our God does not change. Do you remember what the author of Hebrews wrote? “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)  He is constant and true.  Always loving. Always there. Always providing exactly what is needed for the moment. Just as God was with Karla and I as we anxiously anticipated Kindergarten Round-up with the boys years ago, He is now with us as we are moving into new territories of an empty nest, a daughter-in-law, and a cherub living 492.78 miles away (sometimes our stats are right on the money).

He is with you too! If your life has been full of changes—keep looking to the One who does not change. He will give you hope and confidence as you step out into the great big unknown future.

You’ve heard the grumbling curmudgeons, and so have I.  These grumpy purveyors of society like to say things like: “Teenagers these days only think of themselves.  Grump. Grump. Grump. They simply want to listen to their iPods, stay in the basement killing Xbox Zombies and are completely oblivious to the world around them. Blah. Blah. Blah.”

 That hasn’t been my experience. 

 Granted most of the younger generation that I know tend to listen to their iPod more than me (I don’t even own an iPod).  And they are much more prepared should a Zombie apocalypse fall upon us. But the students I know are not world-ignoring, self-absorbed piles of goo in skinny jeans.

 Take last night at Central Church for instance.  In our youth group the students were reminded about the tornado tragedy in Oklahoma this week.  They were told that they could help and the greatest need at this point was money.  So these Zombie-shooting, iPod-listening, skinny jean-wearing students passed the hat.  When the crumpled up dollar bills and quarters were counted, these students showed how they are also neighbor-loving, world-caring, and selfless-giving people who collected (hold on to your hat) nearly $300! 

 One student (who does not have a summer job yet, by the way) opened his heart and put in all the money (totally emptying out his wallet) of the cash he just received for a report card full of good grades.  Give that boy another “A.”

 To these students I say, “Great job! You inspire me. I am thankful for your generosity!”

Rainy days are good for farmers, good for people who like cloudy days (read: Karla), and good for green lawns. Rainy days are good for a lot of reasons. They are bad for people who are prone to get migraines.

 I had a bad migraine yesterday. I believe the technical medical term is “a doozy.”   It was not bad as in “losing my lunch” bad, but bad as in “I was typing on the computer and the sound of the keys was like a tympani pounding in my melon and the refrigerator humming was like a jack hammer” bad. I don’t like headaches like that. It’s hard to concentrate; hard to have meaningful conversations; hard to work on sermons; hard to do just about everything that a pastor does with those kind of headaches.

I think the cold front coming in had something to do with my pounding head. So the rainy day was not my friend.

 Isn’t it weird how a blessing for one person can be a curse for someone else?

 Farmers and green grass lovers—rejoice. “Yahoo! It’s raining!”

Migraine sufferers do not. “Oh no, it’s raining.”

Jesus talked about rain as it relates to people. While preaching His most famous sermon (the Sermon on the Mount) He said, God “causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”  Most people think that Jesus was saying God sends good things to good and bad people (read: the sun) and God sends bad things to good and bad people too (read: the rain). They interpret Jesus as saying whether you are terrorist or saint, you are going to get your share of good and bad from God.

 I’m not sure that’s what Jesus meant. In fact, I think Jesus was saying God is the giver of all things good.

Period. 

Jesus wasn’t saying sun is good and rain is bad. Rather His point was the sun and the rain are both good things (even if rain clouds tend to give me a headache).

 Of course, we know the sun is a good thing. It provides light and warmth. Without the sun, crops wouldn’t grow and we’d spend a lot more money on light bulbs and tanning salons. Sun = good.

 But rain is a good thing too (except for my fellow migraine sufferers). In the first century, good drinking water was a precious commodity. Droughts were deadly—for livestock and people. Too often we 21st century Americans take for granted the value of water. (Lack of clean drinking water is still a problem, by the way.  According to the World Health Organization, 780 million people in the world do not have access to clean drinking water.) Knowing the value of rain, the first century hearers of Jesus would have smiled as He spoke of it raining on the righteous and the unrighteous and may have even yelled out, “Preach it, Jesus. We are blessed by God when it rains.” Rain = good.

Jesus wasn’t addressing why bad things happen to good people or bad people— He was making a statement that good things are from God. (Does that make sense?) The context of the rain and sun passage is “Loving our enemies.” Jesus’ point was that He loves everybody— even the dirty, rotten, unrighteous folks. He still sends good things their way— rain and sun. So we are to love like He loves— sending good things even to those who don’t deserve it.  

 What does that have to do with my migraine?

 I think it helps me to understand my situation just a little bit better.

I do not know why I continue to have migraines. I wish I didn’t have them. (Just yesterday I received my quarterly injections, to which my doctor informed me I receive more Botox than any of his other patients. That’s not a record I’m particularly proud of having. If I never had another shot in my head, I would be OK with that new reality.)

When it’s rainy, or when I eat the wrong food or don’t get enough sleep, or when I don’t exercise or stumble across some other trigger, or when the Botox is wearing off— I get a migraine? Why? I don’t know.

 This is what I do know— God is the giver of good things (not bad). He gives me the strength to overcome. He gives me the wherewithal to endure. He gives me the hope that this headache is not the end. He is the reason that I am able to do what I can do. In other words, He is my solution— not part of the problem.

It’s true for you too. Whatever situation you face (everyone has something, mine happens to be migraines), know God is the solution. He is not the problem. Call to Him. Remember He is our Hope and whatever it is that you are going through will not have the last word. Jesus is the Victor, Healer and Maker of all things new. That trial you are facing is not the end story. God is the Great Provider. James said He provides “good and perfect gifts.” So trust that He will provide you everything you need to face the situations of your life with grace and peace!

 

God > than your situations!