Being "Real"

This morning I was drinking my morning coffee and watching a local talk/news program on television. Two pastors from a new church start were there promoting their faith community. They were going on about how their church was “real” and “relevant,” how you could come dressed any way you want, and how the music was “hip hop” but with a Christian message. My initial reaction was, “Well that’s great, another effort to try to reach people for Christ can’t hurt, after all Jesus said ‘Whoever is not against us is for us.” (Mark 9:40) My feelings changed however when the pastor said (not a precise quote) “There are church buildings on every corner in our city but I don’t believe that many are the real church, we are a real church, we are out there in the community working.” So all these church buildings don’t house real churches huh? I’m about sick of this whole “We are the cool church” marketing strategy that a lot of churches are using today. It’s as if they are vying for people who are stuck in their high school days. If you want to be cool, come to our hip and relevant church and you can be cool like us. We deal with the real problems of real people because we are really cool. First of all, if you have to tell people how cool you are, you probably aren’t cool. Second, being real isn’t about wearing jeans with the knees ripped out or a style of music. Being real is about being authentic about who you truly are. Some of the most authentic Christian people that I’ve met over the years, dress up on Sunday morning for church, and sing the old hymns. Their authenticity comes from the fact that they genuinely love Jesus Christ and live in a way that honors him. I understand the need to communicate the gospel in ways that help people to be more open to Christ, but because you are “real,” does not mean that everyone else is not authentic in their own faith. Being “real” has a different look on different people. For some it is about wearing jeans and a tee shirt and listening to drums and electric guitars, for others it is wearing dresses and suits and organ music. Personally, I hate getting strangled every Sunday by a necktie, but not as much as I hate wearing a robe. Frankly, I don’t care what people wear, and as long as the music isn’t being slaughtered, I don’t care what style that is either. The important thing for me is that we are open and honest about our need for God.

I’m not very good at surprise parties

My mother turned 70 on May 16th and we planned a surprise party for her on Saturday the 17th. However, the surprise part of the equation didn’t work out very well. It turns out that she was tipped off by suspicious behavior. She knew something was up when her son (me) and her mother both did not call her on her birthday. It never really occurred to me that not calling her Friday would give away Saturday’s surprise, nor in my mind was there a distinction made between “real” birthday and the day of celebrating her birthday. I just don’t think about stuff like that. My thoughts were simple: mom’s birthday, go there Saturday, get card and gift, I’m covered. To be honest, I vaguely thought that I might have given it away earlier in the week on the phone by saying “I’ll see you Saturday at the party.” But I guess that it was the lack of a call on her “real” birthday that actually tipped her off. Oh well, I’m pretty much attributing my poor surprise party capabilities to the fact that I spend so much of my life as a pastor trying to communicate to others, hence holding back information just doesn’t come naturally. Or it could just be that as a man I have no sense of the fun related to all of this. My sisters understood, they all called and didn’t tip mom off. Yet when I was a child I do remember enjoying surprise parties, maybe I’m just getting old. Yea that will work, I’m sure that I am just getting old. Needless to say, the party was a good time anyway, surprise or not.

A visit from the grandkids

Around lunch time yesterday my daughter dropped by the office with my two year old grandson Ayden and his six month old sister, Addison. We visited for a while and I held my granddaughter and watched Ayden buzz around the nursery like a little bumblebee. Addison is the calmest baby that I have ever met and Ayden is the opposite. Yesterday he was especially energetic after drinking half of his mother’s sweet tea when she wasn’t watching. Ayden has been making these visits since he was younger than his sister and it has been fun to watch him grow in both his size and understanding. When I first saw him yesterday in the church nursery he said to me “Pe-pah (where he got that name for me I’ll never know) where’s Jo?” He was asking about our Sunday morning nursery attendant Jo Ellen, naturally assuming that she should be there in the nursery whenever he was there. I laughed at the clarity of his speech and said “She’s only here on Sundays Ayden.” It has been amazing to see his little mind work at making these types of associations. Like when we drive by a restaurant and he says “Eat” or “Lunch” or when we drive by the Chuckie Cheese and he yells “Mouse” (he’s afraid of that big costumed mouse character, but strangely drawn to him at the same time). At one point Ayden thought that maybe his grandmother was hanging around the church some where and he led me off on a search for “Me-mah.” Right now church for Ayden is a fun visit, both on Sunday morning and during the week. I can’t wait to see how his understanding will grow related to this. Eventually it will become about more than just playing in the nursery and seeing “Me-mah” and “Pe-pah.” Hopefully, he will feel the love of God and know the love of the people who make up the church. Right now I’m sure that the church building is huge to him, each time he enters the sanctuary he stares upward at the high ceiling. I’m hoping that his perception of the church will never shrink in size, that it will have a large influence on his life. As Jesus said “Let the little children come unto me, of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

When you find that right cause…

I had a phone conversation with my younger sister yesterday about her experience working with her local Relay for Life campaign in Warren Ohio. My sister has been doing this for a number of years now. During the two day event, her booth raised several thousand dollars and she said that the overall event had contributed over $450,000.00 toward the cause of eradicating cancer. That is a lot of money for one economically challenged small town in Ohio to contribute, and I know that this is a year around pursuit for many of the folks who are involved in the effort. Obviously my sister has found the right cause to invest in. I love to see people connecting with an organized effort that inspires them to make a difference in the world. I love it when people unite around a common cause, energetically attacking a challenging goal with the power of agreement and cooperation. My favorite experiences of church leadership have been those times, when people have looked beyond their own self interests and worked together to make big things happen. My worst experiences of church leadership have been when people have taken a selfish opinion or idea and promoted discord and argumentation about something that has little or no significance in the Kingdom of God. Surprisingly though, some will fiercely rally around life’s “mole hills” like they are the true mountain sized issues of existence. Successful organized efforts don’t get caught up in confused understandings about what is important and what purpose the organization serves. Sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the primary mission of the church and when people agree and cooperate in this common cause, big things happen. I need to constantly remind myself that this is the cause that I have been called to and agreement and cooperation, with the help of God, will bring success.

A Family Funeral

After 13 years of being a pastor, I’m starting to lose count of the number of funerals that I have officiated at. It’s a sacred trust to be able to enter into people’s lives at the time of their loved one’s death. Sometimes, you know that you have done it well and people “are at a better place” emotionally and spiritually because of the experience. Other times, you just aren’t sure if it made any difference at all. At the very least you can find consolation in the fact that you have offered something needed, at a time when others don’t have the ability or emotional strength to do it. This week I officiated at my wife’s aunt’s funeral. I’ve done a few family funerals over the years, but most of the time I am talking about people who I only have a superficial knowledge of how they truly lived. The family was pleased with what I said about my wife’s aunt and I heard comments like “Funeral services are much better when the one doing them knows the person.” I agree whole heartedly with that statement, but I also know that people are complicated, and I’m uncertain that anyone can truly know another person. Pastors and others touch on experiences that we have had with the person, observations about their character, or feelings that their lives evoke in others; however it’s a rare experience to have someone share their true selves with you. Actually, when they do, it’s probably not what people would want to hear at a funeral. Needless to say, this whole experience of a family funeral reminds me that there is one who does know us fully, and when I offer my services to people at the time of death, I go in Christ’s name with the hope that I might help others to realize his presence and peace. It is nice when a funeral service is done by someone who knows the person, but it is even nicer when we receive consolation from the one who knows us best.

First Thoughts

Jesus said (as recorded in Luke 6:45) that out of the overflow of one's heart the mouth speaks. I've never spent much time regularly recording my thoughts, or even regularly monitoring the content of my thoughts. However, I've heard that this blogging can be a powerful spiritual discipline when taken seriously. If nothing else, it seems like it could be a good way to vent about stuff that everyone around you is sick of hearing about. Write it down and let it go. Maybe this will be a good way of organizing the content of the words that do flow out of my mouth. Maybe it will be a cathartic experience. Who knows, but I'm ready to give it a try.