What does "Minimally Adequate" mean?

Have I ever told you that our Supreme Court and SC State Legislature refuse to intervene in horrible educational situations because our state constitution only requires that each student receive a "minimally adequate" education?

Though Christ tells us to care especially for "the least of these" our state apparently thinks "minimally adequate" is OK for areas without a high tax base.

We as Christians should not think this is OK. And now we have a chance to change the way our state operates! I invite you to take action with me, if you live in this state. Here's how:

http://www.goodbyeminimallyadequate.com/

Raising Children in Faith

Yesterday, like many Thursdays, I ate lunch with the secretary from one of my churches, her husband, mother, daughter, mother's friend, and the youth pastor from the Baptist church down the street (where she is also secretary, and where the staff happen to be enough similar to us theologically that I have my son in preschool there this year).

CNN Headline News was on the TV above us, and of course it was reporting on the court hearing held in San Angelo, Texas, over custody of the 416 children removed from the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints compound two weeks ago. Of course, the youth pastor and I (being the official ministerial types) were asked about this, and an interesting discussion ensued about how we bring up (I even said "indoctrinate") our children in our faith. Of course, the 416 children removed have had the only world they've ever known shattered, even if we firmly believe it was a heretical, distorted, against-God's-design kind of world. (Let us pray for these children especially)

I've been thinking a lot this subject of child-rearing in faith recently, though, as my child has said in a deep chanting voice "Christ the Lord" while handing me a little cup of juice, as he's tried to figure out what it means that Jesus came back from the dead, as he's made strange comments and asked bizarre questions about God and heaven. I've been thinking about how much our children do trust us to teach them, to form them, in what is truth, in what becomes essential and central to who they are and how they live. This is interesting as this Sunday we will look at the passage from the Gospel of John in which Jesus says "I am the way, and the truth, and the life..." I'm glad I put all my trust in that truth, or I think I could really, honestly be seriously messing up my child's head and world-view.

So, as my child learns, and as we try to teach and form as faithfully as we can (with a lot of prayer and humility) please enjoy the following "Jedism" on prayer before meals, from a little Southern boy with a thick adorable southern accent. We were shamed recently at the home of some friends and their two children, one of whom is the same age as our son. Their son knew more than one blessing. Our son only knows "God is great..." So without further ado,

The Jedism of mealtime blessings:
said tonight over pizza, just before we really said grace:

God is great.
God is good.
Bless his heart.

Oh, yes, my friends. He's southern.

My Little Plumber

Just thought it would make you all smile.

The Finished Product

This past Sunday morning, we reconsecrated the sanctuary building of one of my churches. You may remember that I wrote about the sanctuary renovation project before. Well, before Christmas 2007 arrived, the "steel implants" were set. You can see them in the picture above. Just look up in the corner and above the light.

So we enjoyed Christmas, celebrating the gift of the Christ-child inside the gift of a stronger, different-looking, renovated sacred space that will be standing now for generations to come who can "come and adore Him" here.

But we were not finished. And we knew it. For when the steel supports, cables, and turnbuckles were placed, they disturbed the very old shingles all over the roof. So we knew that Lent would bring yet another major project and expense, the placement of a new roof (we're talking another $22,000, people) on our church's buildings. And it did. Needless to say, when the roofing work was finally finished a few weeks ago (not coincidentally in the Easter season), we wanted to hold a special Homecoming and Re-consecration service, which we enjoyed this past Sunday.

In the children's sermon at this service, an astute five-year-old got my point right away when I explained how the wood beams had not had enough strength to hold up the roof all by themselves, so they had needed to have some metal put in to help them. Of course, before I could say it, she told me that that was just like how we need Jesus in our hearts to have the strength we need, that we're not strong enough on our own to be the people God wants us to be.

These kids are too smart for me!!

But one other thing kept running through my head that day, another metaphor about the roof and reconstruction. It was a metaphor of gratitude and awe, a metaphor I never dreamed would be true the first few weeks I was here and feeling the anxiety of a small South Carolina church that had never had a female pastor before, not to mention a tiny young single one!

What kept running through my head and heart as we celebrated this past Sunday was this: God has had a plan for this church and me to be in ministry together for almost six years and counting. I know that, since, over the years in which I've been here as pastor, we've worked together to reconstruct this church family and community of Christ from the inside out. Things have changed. The household looks different than it did before. And, my friends, it is stronger in Christ, firmer on its Foundation, than it was six years ago.

I haven't done it; the members of the church family haven't done it. God has done it through all of us together, and through the partnership we enjoy. I can see the evidence of it as clearly as I see the black-coated steel implants in the sanctuary. And I thank God for it, because I know what it means: this church will stand firm on its Foundation for decades to come, and will keep being a sacred place for generation after generation to encounter the Lord Jesus Christ whom we worship and adore each Sunday.

Praise and thanks be to God for the "finished product" of the reconstructed sanctuary, and the "unfinished" project of the reconstituted family of faith that worships in it!

Just Overheard...

The "little man" and I just got home from the Wednesday night meal at one of my churches, and I was checking e-mail. He was playing on the couch with a hand-me-down toy from one of his cousins, a rather large "Rescue Heroes" robot named "Irv."

As he used the remote to control Irv, the robot kept talking to him. He's always just ignored that, because Irv says "grown up" things like "awaiting input," "rescue wench deployed," and other such robotic things in a mechanical voice.

But just now when Irv asked, "Do you copy?"
Jed answered in a frustrated tone:

I don't have any copies!

That's my boy!

The Great 50 Days

I'm so glad that Easter isn't just one day, but instead 50 Great Days of Celebrating Resurrection, because WE STILL HAVEN'T DYED EASTER EGGS!

I know, I know, I'm a terrible mom. And you won't believe me when I tell you that we simply haven't had enough "down time" at home as a family to do it since Holy Week, but it's true. And so I'm very glad that we have several more weeks of Easter in which to dye eggs. Maybe this will even be a great teaching experience (about the Christian year and how it forms us) for little Jed.

The "Jedism" for early Easter, by the way, involves one of the things (in addition to Shrek underwear and Cars magnets and markers) that the Easter Bunny left in his basket on the first day of Easter. It was, of course, some candy--to be shared with Mommy and Daddy. It was two bags of M&M's, one of the peanut variety. Mommy and Daddy love those. We finally opened them about a week ago.

So we were enjoying them, trying to convince our son that the Easter Bunny (who, by the way, comes to leave treats on Easter morning because he wants to spread the joy of the good news that Jesus is alive) thought he would really like Peanut M&M's, too. We wanted him to try them. He just kept making that "skwinchy face" and shaking his head. As he held one skeptically between his thumb and forefinger, we said, "There are peanuts and chocolate inside these M&M's--try it."

He looked unconvinced.

Then he shook it.

Then he said: "I don't hear any peanuts in there."

There was no use in explaining, though I tried after we stopped laughing. He wasn't going to try the M&M.

More for Mommy and Daddy!

And thus we continue to celebrate the fact that our Lord Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!

Maybe we'll even get around to dyeing Easter Eggs eventually in joyful celebration of the empty tomb and the Living Lord.

Alleluia! Happy Easter!