Can't Go Back

The church I'm serving has a long and glorious history. Founded almost 150 years ago, she has been the "mother church" of this city and area. Fifty years ago, the pastor here led three worship services each Sunday morning. Over 1000 people worshiped here each Sunday morning. St. Paul's was a megachurch before they were the "in thing." This church gave birth to another, long before mother-daughter church plants were the new topic of conversation in our conference.

The last several Sundays of worship here have been glorious, at least for me. I'm convinced there is no more beautiful worship space anywhere. I see angel wings on the back wall as I worship and preach. The arches of the ceiling draw my heart and spirit upward. Everything is round. And I have two amazing musicians behind me playing organ and piano by the leading of the Holy Spirit.

I'm not the only one who has felt the joy and power of Christ present as we've worshiped together. I feel amazingly privileged.

But I must say that one refrain I've heard has really got me thinking. On more than one occasion, someone has said something like this to me:

I really think that now maybe this church can get back to the way it was.
Maybe we can get back our former glory.

Now, I freely admit that I have no idea what God has in mind for the future of this church. I'm simply on the journey with the congregation to discover where we're called to go, what we're called to do, who we're called to be.

But there's one thing I'm pretty sure of:

God isn't interested in our "going back" to anything.
God only wants us to embrace the future and its glory, whatever that looks like.

I understand what the people saying these things mean. I'm glad that we're all hopeful. Where there is no hope, there is no joy or faith or trust usually, either.

I'm very very glad there's hope.

But we need to understand that God never calls, or wants, us to go backward. Things will never be the way they were, but there is a glory that awaits us, if we're faithful...no doubt.

My hope is in trusting God to lead us into the future, not back to the past.
It is a joyous time!

One more thing...

I'm starting to read three books, in this order:
You Only Have to Die: Leading Your Congregation to New Life, by James A. Harnish
A Second Resurrection: Leading Your Congregation to New Life, by Bill Easum
and
Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations, by Robert Schnase

I'm sure that God will be speaking through them.
I look forward to hearing the divine voice...

Drivin' Me Bunkers!

Time for a new "Jedism"...you know, one of those things my son says that is just too cute to forget.



So we're in the car, all three of us, driving home one evening. Suddenly, there was something in the road, and my husband had to swerve to avoid it. We continued talking, only to hear our son in the back yell in an exasperated tone: "Dad, you're drivin' me bunkers!"


The way he said it was so funny, we started to laugh. I then said: "Buddy, what does that mean? How is Daddy drivin' you bonkers?"


Here was his priceless response:
Well, when you swoosh the car around like that when you're drivin', it makes my head go back and forth really hard and go "bunk" on my seat! That's drivin' me bunkers!


Of course it is!

The Ultimate Donation

Tomorrow I will conduct my third memorial service/funeral in this church. I've been here just over a month now. All three of these services will have celebrated the lives of women, and two of them will have been memorial services. In my definitions, "memorial services" are conducted in the absence of a body, while "funerals" are conducted when the person's body is present (whether in a casket of in the form of cremains).

I'm pretty sure that every other end-of-life service I've conducted in my 7 + years of pastoral ministry has been a "funeral," whether with a casket or an urn present. But, for the second time in less than a month now, I will conducte a "memorial service" tomorrow in the church. And the reason for the "memorial service" rather than the "funeral" is the same in both cases: Both women donated their bodies, as their husbands had also done, to the Medical University of South Carolina.

We live in a day when suicide bombers are blowing up themselves and as many innocent victims as possible, when gunmen are targeting Christians in their own churches (let us pray for the our brothers and sisters in Christ as well the perpetrator of this terrible act in Knoxville, TN), when so many people are taking the lives of others without regard for their value. What a powerful witness to the self-giving love of Christ, then, when one chooses as a final act of grace to give one's body away so that others might learn to give and preserve life.

I've thought about what I want done, or rather what God wants done, with my body after my death, I really have. I thought I'd decided that my faithful witness would be to have it buried in a plain wooden casket built by my husband with no metal parts at all, in a grave with no vault--the most natural burial possible. But now I'm thinking...I almost went to MUSC as a medical student earlier this decade...maybe one day I'm supposed to actually let myself go there in a much different way.

I'll be praying about that, thanks to Mrs. D and Mrs. M., two women for whom I and my new church family give thanks to God.

Have I said how much we love this town?

There's a dedicated group of students from the three institutions of higher learning that are based in this little city who are set on being "changers." The organization they've formed is called "Changing the Perception, Inc."

The reason they've formed themselves into an organized unit with a common goal is an obvious one to anyone who's heard what we heard before we moved here. This town is perceived negatively by many in other places. And everyone who loves this place, who calls it home, is now dead-set on changing that image.

I'd heard it all before I came here: "You're moving THERE? Oh, I'm sorry. Well, just never go out at night. Don't go to Wal-Mart past sunset."

But guess what? We love it here. My son and I went less than 5 minutes from our home on Sunday afternoon to see a GREAT production of Seussical, Jr. performed by a highly talented group of youngsters in a recently, and beautifully, renovated little theatre downtown. Then yesterday, our family went another direction less than 5 minutes from our home to walk through a world-class rose garden to a duck pond where children gather to feed turtles and Canadian geese and Mallards. The whole park is situated along a natural river, the longest black-water river in the world. We went there after eating in a great restaurant, again, less than 5 minutes from home.

We've been embraced by everyone in our churches with the greatest hospitality, care, and enthusiasm imaginable. Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, we've met in the community has been kind and welcoming to us. We have a beautiful home in a beautiful neighborhood near downtown.

We love this place. Of course, no place is perfect. And there is plenty here besides the perception that does beg to be changed according to God's perfect plan for humanity. Part of my role as a minister and spiritual leader in the community is to help us understand what needs to be addressed and address it. That, I will attempt to do as faithfully as I can.

But for now, I just want to say...we love it here. If you're one of those who thought we were moving someplace that isn't simply great...please come visit! We've got a guest room!

Ever had a song in your head...

that you just couldn't get out?

Well, for my son, apparently it's not a song, but trucks.

So tonight as we got on the interstate in our drive home from my parents' home (they'd been keeping him while I performed my last wedding of the summer--congrats to Allison and Nick!), he said:

So Mommy, you know those big trucks that drive on the interstate? I've been thinking about them. I think I'm not gonna think about them anymore.

If only it were as easy for us to "meditate on God's goodness and God's Word" as it is for us to get silly thing like pop songs or even trucks stuck running around in our heads!

In Today's English Version of the Bible, the Psalmist of Psalm 63 prays to the Lord:

As I lie in bed, I remember you;
all night long I think of you,
because you have always been my help.
In the shadow of your wings I sing for joy.
I cling to you, and your hand keeps me safe.

There's something else for ALL OF US to think about!

Living in "Connexion"

The founder of Methodism, John Wesley, believed in living in communion with God and with one another. The polity and operation of the Methodist movement therefore involved what Wesley called "connexion." Wesley insisted that the movement be one in conferencing, in mission, and in practice.

Today, this "connectionalism" is expressed in many ways, not the least of which is through Christian Conferencing at every level of the church's organization. Local churches in the United States are connected in districts, annual conferences (which meet, as the name indicates, each year), and jurisdictional conferences (which meet every four years). The General Conference, the defining global gathering of United Methodists consisting of lay and clergy delegates from every annual conference in the denomination, meets every four years, as well.

The last General Conference was held back in April, and now it's time for Southeastern Jurisdictional Conference! It begins tomorrow at Lake Junaluska, NC. The main focus of each Jurisdictional Conference is the election of bishops.

If you click on the the link embedded above, you can follow all the happenings of SEJ, including election results. One of South Carolina's own, Columbia District Superintendent Dr. Tim McClendon.

In invite you to be in prayer for Jurisdictional Conference, for all the delegates, and for all the Episcopal nominees, including Tim. I certainly will be!

"You're a baby!"

The church of which I am now pastor has about 30 members living in a United Methodist retirement community, The Oaks. I had the privilege yesteday of visiting the six who are in the nursing center, introducing myself to five of them for the first time. I enjoy talking with people who are decades older and wiser than I am.

One of the ladies I met yesterday asked me how old I was, after confirming with a disbelieving voice that I am, indeed, the new PASTOR of the church. I told her the truth: I'll turn 34 years old this year.

Her reply: "Well, you're just a baby. A baby."

My response: "Yes, ma'am. I suppose I am."

Her again: "Yep. You're just a baby."

I suppose I may have been offended if I didn't believe that we're all always babies in comparison to our Lord, and that we all need to be reminded of that from time to time. I think we all get into a little trouble when we think we're "all grown up" in the faith and all wise. It's like I Peter 2:2 says:

Be like newborn babies, always thirsty for the pure spiritual milk, so that by drinking it you may grow up and be saved. (TEV).

So thanks, Mrs. T., for the reminder!