Transition

Last night, I preached at a Baccalaureate service for one of the communities I currently serve. As I sat on the platform for the service and then stood behind the podium and presumed to preach God's Word to the graduating class at this pivotal time in their lives, I looked out at a sea of faces that included many who have become my family. The graduates included 5 young people who've called me "Pastor Kristen" for the past 4 years. I've watched them grow from "kids" into amazing young adults.

At roughly the same time I was leading worship in the high school, one of the dear souls who is a part of my other commuity passed from this life into the nearer presence of God.

Life is full of transitions. Some are minor; some change everything. Some bring rejoicing, while others bring pain. But as I told the graduates last night, every time God says "go" in some way, God also offers opportunities for growth.

When God told Abram to "get up and go" without even telling him where, God also promised Abram that if he trusted the Lord's leading and promise, he'd be blessed beyond imagining. (Genesis 12:1-4) God pours out blessings on those who trust the Lord, even in the most difficult of transitions, in every command from God to "go" from here to there.

As God says "go" to us in so many ways, my prayer for all of us is that we'll, as the old song says, "trust and obey." Thus may we truly know joy in Jesus, today and every day.

A Long Time Coming

I'm moving.

Come June 23, I will live in a new house in a new city and be the new pastor at an old church.

I'm moving.

I've finally been able to say it publicly, to write it publicly, and to try to wrap my mind around all that that means. I'm United Methodist. I should know what it all means. We move. We itinerate. We never know where we'll be serving and living from year to year. But facing the reality is always challenging. Many non-United Methodists think we really know how to do this moving-thing well. Well, maybe it's because I've only done it one other time, really, and NEVER with my family...but I feel like I really have no clue how to do this.

I keep making lists and trying to pack boxes. I tie up one loose end only to have another end begin to fray. It's emotionally draining, all-consuming, and SCARY! I have mixed feelings or I'm numb. I move constantly or I get stuck. I cry or I laugh.

This is limbo.

But THIS is my comfort:
The same God who has always told those who would listen to "go" and to "do" is with all of us through every transition. And our Shepherd Christ will guide us if we will follow. And the Holy Spirit will fill us with peace and lead us into the amazing Truth God has for us, if we will open ourselves and listen.

Through every change, for all of us who trust in the Lord, one thing remains the same:

But now thus says the LORD,
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be buned,
and the flame shall not consume you.

For I am the LORD your God,
the Holy One of Israel, our Saviour...

I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.

+ Isaiah 43:1-3a, 18-19

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!