Everything is Chicken But the Gravy...

Ok, I've stood it as long as I can.  I had said that I would not chime in on the Chick-fil-a fiasco, but the smart aleck in me has finally won out over the common sense in me.  From what I've read this whole deal has been blown way out of proportion.       

Here's my beef with the whole thing: the liberal left and the conservative right have both missed the point. 

I'm an elder in the United Methodist Church who has vowed to uphold the Discipline of my denomination, and according to the laws of my church cannot participate in or officiate at a same sex marriage, nor allow the same to be conducted in the church I am appointed to serve.  I'm cool with that.  If you want to say that is preserving the biblical ideal of marriage, I will defend to the death your right to believe that.

But wait...there's more...I am an elder in the United Methodist Church who has vowed to uphold the Discipline of my denomination, who by the laws of our church cannot officiate at or participate in a same sex marriage, nor allow the same to be conducted in the church I am appointed to serve...HOWEVER...I have full sacramental rights to re-marry as many folks as I want for the second, third, or fourth time...which, with a few ancient exceptions...also mars the glorious sanctity of holy matrimony, and the family born from that union. 

When this whole thing blew up, it caught my attention.  Why?  Well, because Chick-fil-a makes a killer chicken sandwich.  I don't visit often, but in the times I have patronized their establishment I've never been disappointed.  I applaud the fact that, along with Hobby Lobby, Swirlz, and a few others, they are closed on Sunday to give their employees time to worship, if they choose, and/or spend time with family. 

The first thing I did when I started seeing the Facebook posts was to start doing a little research, which is my other beef with the whole fiasco.  Granted, I have not done extensive research, but some is better than none.  Evidently there were only about a dozen of us who actually went back and looked up the quotes before we started slamming Facebook with our shares and reposts. 

What I found was Dan Cathy being quoted as saying this: “We are very much supportive of the family — the biblical definition of the family unit. We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives.”

I applaud Mr. Cathy for the fact that he has made his marriage work...or at least wants the public to think that it's working.  I am thankful that we live in a country where he can say what he wants with complete freedom, and that he can run his company pretty much as he sees fit.  I also applaud him for standing for what he believes in even though it may not be popular. 

What gets me though, and it's another thing that makes my job so cotton picking hard, is the scores of folk jumping on whatever raft floats down the river without doing any homework.  From what I read, Dan Cathy never mentioned same sex marriage.  He may be against it, and perfectly within his right to be so, but in this particular situation, from these particular quotes, those of us who have divorced and remarried, and divorced and remarried, have done just as much damage to the biblical institution of marriage and the biblical image of family.  And...as an officiant at more than one exchange of vows for the second or third time, does that make me just as guilty even though I am still with my first wife?

If you support same sex marriage, and don't want to eat at Chic-fil-a, don't eat there.  There are countless other places to get a good, nay great, chicken sandwich.  If you oppose same sex marriage, and want to support Chick-fil-a, get in line.  You won't be alone.  Personally, it doesn't matter to me.  This isn't a sword I'm willing to fall on.  But...there's something in scripture about planks and eyes, or splinters and eyes, or something like that, and this we cannot forget.  Make sure the reason you are supporting the company or trying to shut it down is legit, and based on facts instead of mob mentality.

Gentlemen, if you are concerned about preserving the biblical image of family and protecting the sanctity of marriage, and if you have looked at a woman cross-ways and had bad thoughts about her while your wife was standing beside you, you might want to hold off on ordering that chicken sandwich.  Ladies, likewise, if you are concerned about preserving the biblical image of family and protecting the sanctity of marriage, and if you have ever winked at a man that wasn't your first husband, maybe a cheeseburger this week instead of that grilled chicken.  If you have thrown your wife or husband away and said something like, "I just don't think I love you anymore," or "I'm just not sure I want to be married anymore," maybe you should hit McDonald's instead.  Wait, let me make sure Don Thompson hasn't said anything. (I think he's McDonald's CEO)

If you are trying to keep Chick-fil-a out of your city because their freedom of speech doesn't line up with your agenda, get over yourself.  Dan Cathy has a right to believe and say what he wants, just like you and I do, and get this, has the right to run his company pretty much the way he sees fit.  From what I've read, he's not discriminating against anyone, just stating the beliefs that stand behind his company.

The beauty of living where we live is that we don't have to agree, but for the love of all that's good and holy, let's at least do a little homework so that we know what it is we are disagreeing about. 

...oh...and by the way...that's an Arby's chicken sandwich in the picture

Addendum...after seeing a few comments about this, I feel like I need to say that my reflections are about the quotes attributed to Cathy, not what the company does or does not do with their profits.  Further research into that could change everything. 

Can I Ask You A Question...

It's Friday! 

I know what you're thinking: "Well, thanks for that, Captain Obvious." 

It's Friday, which means, it's Saturday for me.  It's 7:30 in the morning and I'm sitting on the loveseat in my PJ's with my laptop and a cup of my favorite java.  After while, I'm going to head over to our house to spend the day making it look a little less abandoned, but I need to write first. 

Friday, for me, is not only my "regular day off" (I use that term very, very loosely...and save all the cracks about pastors only working one day a week for the end of class, please).  Friday is the day I usually take a little time to reflect on the week and the work that was done for the Kingdom, and I have to say, this week has been a banner week.  Seriously.

It hasn't been anything that I've done, and I mean that.  The church that I am blessed to pastor, and the flock that I am blessed to shepherd, never ceases to amaze me.  I have considered beginning a volunteer log so that we can track the massive amount of volunteer hours my flock donates each week.  I don't know why, but I think it would be a huge morale boost for the tough weeks...and I know there will be tough weeks. 

We hosted our "Operation Overboard" VBS this week and my folks welcomed, taught, fed, and played with a great group of kids.  It was hot...inside the building and out.  I know they are exhausted, but as I looked back through the registration forms, I realized why we do this: I was amazed by the number of kids who had listed "None" or "N/A" as their church home.  For 4 nights, they received just a tiny little taste of the body of Christ loving them in the name of Christ.  Now the hard work begins...follow up. 

As amazing as VBS was this year, that is not the only thing that sticks out in my mind as making this week past a banner week.  Three other things have happened since Wednesday that have opened my eyes to some blessings and major problems with the local church.

First the blessing: (Cue compliment sandwich)  The local church is poised to have an impact, the likes of which, has not been seen since the great revival movement of the mid 19th century.  Folks are hungry.  They are looking for something. 

I sat through two meetings yesterday that concretized the suspicions I have had for the 13 years I've been in ministry: We (the local churches) honestly have no clue what the hell we're doing when it comes to reaching folks for the kingdom.  There, I said it.  We don't know how to do the one thing we have been comissioned to do.  We're really good at transferring membership from one flock to another, but as far as reaching out to "the unchurched" we're basically really good at sitting around talking about it.

One of the meetings I sat in yesterday is a new task force who's purpose is to look at revitalizing our existing local churches and starting new faith communities.  I love all of the folks who sat in the room with me yesterday, and many of them have mentored me throughout my career.  We did a lot of defining the problem, but not much in addressing ways to fix it.  We know what doesn't work, but haven't figured out yet what does work.  (Prayer: "Lord, grant me patience.  Amen.)  I have committed to this group and can't wait for God to move among us.

Last night, I sat through meeting #2 for the day.  My ears perked up when I heard my friend (and boss), Sky McCracken, read from Dan Dick's blog about the young people who are missing in the local church.  You can read that blog here:

http://doroteos2.wordpress.com/2012/06/28/beyond-label-or-category/#more-4687

Not only do we not know how to reach them, we really don't even know who they are.  We know they're not in worship on Sunday morning, but we haven't asked them why.  We know they are different in ideology, style, dress, and focus, and maybe those differences scare us.  I don't know.  I have to say that I'm not sure many of the churches who claim to want younger people in their midst, really want younger people in their midst.  That, for me, is where the two meetings from yesterday crash head on.  Revitalization in the local church can only happen, at least in my opinion, when those on the inside develop a burning desire to spend time with those who are not on the inside yet, and to see them brought to a healing relationship with the Creator God...instead of engaging in spitting contests over worship style, times, dress, and all that other stuff that Jesus (probably, possibly, maybe) doesn't even care about.  Where is the source of that burning desire?  The Holy Spirit, of course...another entity many local churches are afraid to let in.

Now for the one thing that totally blew me away this week.  I had a young man come to me Wednesday night.  Normal looking guy.  He had made some bad decisions which led to our first meeting at the county jail.  He came to me and asked "Can I ask you a question?" (Lord, forgive my cynicism for the thoughts I had at that moment)  "Sure," I said.  Then he leaned in close and almost whispered this: "I've been thinking about something this week.  I think I would like to come to church here..."  Then he looked into my eyes and asked, "Would it be ok if I came to church here?"

What???!!!

"Of course it would be ok for you to come to church here!  I would love that, and you let me know if there is anything I can do for you.  I'll see you this weekend."

Now, why would he even ask that question?  Because it is not okay for him to go to some of the other local churches, evidently.  Why?  Because he's young...he dresses in jeans and a T-shirt...he has a record...he is actually seeking something but has no clue what the hell it is..and honestly, many local churches are afraid of him.  Not only are many local churches afraid of him, he is afraid of them.  Why?  Well, that question has as many answers as the many judgments he has had passed on him by well mearning "Christians."

(Cue blessing sandwich again) But there is hope!  Jesus himself, as he looked into the eyes of a young woman with a record, a reputation, and probably dressed loosely...as he bent down to write in the sand, and then as he looked back into her eyes, asked her, "Where are they? Does no one condemn you?  Then neither do I.  Go and sin no more."  That is our example.  That is the way our Jesus did things.

We are in the position to give folks on the outside something they may have never had...love in the name of Christ.  But first, we have to get to know them...and their baggage...and their pasts...and their questions...and their hopes...and their confusion...and their distrust of organized religion. 

Now, if your church is ready to do those things, I guarantee you, revitalization is on the horizon, and hopefully the number of kids filling out registration forms at our really awesome, yet to be designed, VBS next year, will put the name of their church home on the line where, this year, they put "none."

Peace
Jamie

All I Went For Was a Salad...

One night in May of 1999, I stood in the vestibule of the little country church that I had called home for all of my young adult life, and with knees knocking, told my pastor that I felt I was being called into the ministry.  At 28 years old, I was about to make a life change.  Ed, my pastor, told me that if I said "yes" to the call I was feeling, doors would be opened and others would be closed.  He told me, "Jamie, if a door opens up, walk through it.  If it's closed, leave it alone."  Thirteen years later, I'm finally beginning to see the wisdom in that...and...I'm finally beginning to notice when those doors are opened...and when they're not.

Today, I had been working in the office all morning.  I'm taking my leadership team on a retreat this weekend to focus on visioning for the next 5 to 10 years, attempting to discern the Spirit's leading for Grace Church, so I had spent all morning putting together the pre-retreat packet for the team.  Lunch time rolled around and I kept working.  After 30 minutes or so I decided that a salad would be awful nice (Doc told me to drop a few pounds) so I jumped in the truck and headed to one of the restaurants here in town.  I took my paperwork with me, sat down with my soup and salad, and went to work (on all three).  After I finished eating, I saw one of my preacher buddies from across town and we started talking about how things were going in our respective churches.  Conversation moved to the Celebrate Recovery group that meets at the church I'm serving (with a lot of help from our friends in other churches.  It would not be possible without them, honestly) and when the man sitting with my buddy heard "Celebrate Recovery" his whole face changed. 

He looked so familiar but I just couldn't make the connection, so I introduced myself to him.  He told me that his name was Mike...that he lived down the road, and...oh...he was the county jailer.  (Now I know where I have seen him before).  He went on to tell me that he had been wanting to get a Celebrate Recovery program going in the jail for months, and you could see the excitement building within him.

What happened next is a blur.  Mike scooted over, told me to sit down with them, and we began to talk.  Two hours later, after a trip back to my office to tie up some loose ends, I'm sitting in his office at the county jail and we're planning the launch of a Celebrate Recovery program in house. 

I just went for a salad.

"Jamie, if a door opens up, walk through it."

Confession time: When I woke up this morning, if I had been made to list 1000 things that I thought I might possibly be involved in before I went to bed tonight, starting a Celebrate Recovery program at the county jail would not have even made the top 1000.  Honestly, I'm scared to death.  Oh, I'm not scared of being involved in jail ministry.  I think that is a wonderful mission field.  Maybe scared isn't even the right word...awed, would be better.  I am awed at how God opens doors when there is kingdom work to be done, and I am awed at how things begin to fall into place when we step through those doors...into God's will...and surrender ourselves, literally, to only God knows what.

I don't even know why I blogged about this, other than to encourage someone else, anybody, to step through whatever door God may open before them.  It never ceases to amaze me to see what God can do when I get out of the way. 

"Here am I, Lord.  Send me."

Peace,
Jamie

Torn...

I'm torn...and by simply putting voice to that which causes turmoil within my soul, I know I am pasting a target on my back...but I can't remember that ever stopping me before.  You don't have to agree with me, and in fact, most might not, but since this is my blog, and I feel led to write, I'm going to.  You may stop reading at any time and I promise to hold you up in Christian love. 

I've said here before that I am a pastor...a United Methodist pastor...an Elder in full connection in the United Methodist Church.  I was born a United Methodist, but after sampling the "not so" greener grass for a season in my late teens, I remain a United Methodist by choice.  As an Elder in the UMC, I am ordained to the ministry of Word, Sacrament, Order, and Service.  Part of that...being ordained to Order...simply means that I have vowed before my bishop to uphold the Discipline of the United Methodist Church...the Church that I love.

This week, in Tampa, the General Conference of the United Methodist Church is in session.  This is the only body that can legally speak for the denomination.  Today, the delegates voted to maintain language within our Book of Discipline stating that homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.  Er go...I'm torn.  On one hand, I have vowed to uphold the Discipline of the United Methodist Church...which I intend to do.  On the other hand, I see the pain that language causes many in our denomination...or those who have been mistreated in other denominations and have come to us looking for "open hearts, open minds, and open doors."

What bothers me even more than that, I believe, is the way we have treated each other over this topic.  It is most definitely a hot button issue, and I can absolutely appreciate the passion coming from both sides, however, there has to be a better way.   

There have been very heated discussions running through Twitter and Facebook all day, and as I have followed the live stream from Tampa today, and followed some of the discussions, I'm brought back to a question that I have been wrestling with for years.  It may not be a huge theological question, such as "Is homosexuality a sin?" or "Is there more to human sexuality from a biological/genetic standpoint?"  I'm struggling with those, for sure, but the one that I keep coming back to is this: "Why would anyone consciously choose to engage in a lifestyle knowing they will be alienated from family, friends, and the church?"  I've yet to be able to answer that question in a manner that supports a conscious decision to do so, which leads me to believe that there is so much more to this issue.    

Now, you may say, "Why be worried about being alienated from family and friends when we all know that sin alienates us from God?"  Ok, I'll give you that one...but...why are we so focused on this one?

My prayer for the church that I love is that at some point we get to the place where we can discuss issues like this and actually do so in Christian love...which many did not do today...on both sides of the disagreement.  My prayer for the church that I love is that we can either live into the slogan that we developed in the last few years, or find a way to determine who among us will actually find our hearts, our minds, and our doors open...and at least have the fortitude to own the fact that some won't.  Hell, maybe I need to own the fact that I'm being just as bull headed as others, I don't know, but what I do know is that the way some within our church were treated is wrong. 

If homosexuality is a sin, which the delegation voted today to call it that for at least another four years (and I'm not sure I agree), then my prayer for the church that I love and serve, is that all sinners are welcomed...and loved.  If it is ever determined within the voting body that it is indeed not a sin, then may God forgive us for the pain we have continued to cause. 

I'm torn...
I'm a United Methodist...
I have friends and family who are LGBT, whom I love dearly...
I have a God who loves unconditionally....
Lord, help me do the same.

Here is a prayer my DS included in his blog this morning with a link if you'd like to read more.  Thanks, Sky.

We talk a lot, O Lord.

We talk and twitter and blog about others,

we talk in derision of those we don't like,
we talk in fear about those we don't know.
Remind us that we can be faithful and true to you,
our beliefs, our doctrine, and our theology
without pointing out the speck in another's eye.
Remind us how the logs in our own eyes
blind us to seeing you, your truth, and your people
as the children of God that they are.
We disagree O God. Help us to disagree agreeably.
Forgive us, O Lord.
In Jesus' name. Amen.

http://revdsky.blogspot.com/2012/05/starting-conversation.html

Peace,
Jamie

No Whining...

I can hear it already.  The guaranteed appointment for clergy in the United Methodist Church has been gone less than 24 hours and I can already hear the whining... and with a few exceptions (folks who are extremely well qualified but due to stigmas over race and gender may still find acceptance in certain local churches difficult) it boils down to this..."What about me?"

Well, what about you?  Or me, for that matter?

Guess what, we ain't all that...and I'm afraid that the sense of entitlement we gripe and complain about in every other aspect of social life has sadly found its way into some areas of church life.  My brothers/sisters, this should not be.

I admit, and do so quickly and freely, that I am not the sharpest crayon in the box.  There are many things about our polity and structure that, try as I may, I just don't understand.  Part of the problem is more than likely the adult ADD that my bride keeps telling me I have.  I really do have the attention span of a gnat.  Part of it is the fact that I just get tired of the arguments, so I tune some of it out.  Honestly, I'm not even sure exactly what was presented to General Conference, or what language was included in the petition...I'm not watching the live streaming feeds...I just know that my boss posted on his facebook page that the guaranteed appointment system was gone...

In fact, I'd have to look to see how long I even had a guaranteed appointment before I don't have one now...either one year or three, and I'm not sure.  But ask me if I'm worried. 

Not really. 

Sure, we all want, nay, need some level of security in our lives.  I will be the first to say that.  Security can help keep the stress level down, it can allow us to focus on the work that we are called to do, but it can also make us lazy...and by "us" I mean "us" clergy.  When we get lazy, we become ineffective.  When we become ineffective, the Bride of Christ suffers. 

I will also be the first to say that I'm not a perfect pastor.  I screw up...a lot.  But I will also say that God didn't call me to be successful, only faithful, (nor did God call me to be a slacker, by the way...and ok, God did call me to be successful...that whole "Go and make disciples thing..." wasn't "Go and try to make disciples...") and by dang, faithful is what I intend to be...faithful to the Bride of Christ...and to the denomination that I love.

Hopefully, and again I refer to the fact that I don't know all of the language that was included in this petition, not only will the removal of the guaranteed appointment for clergy create more effective clergy...but will also create more effective local churches.  Perhaps, if some of our ineffective churches realized they may or may not receive a pastor, they'd step up their efforts a little more. 

Actually, that's probably the only concern I have about the whole deal...that clergy will be held more accountable while those ineffective local churches are not, but I digress.

So, my fellow warriors for the faith, fight the good fight...run the good race...and don't worry about the rest.  If we're doing those things, and doing them well, guaranteed appointments vs. no guarantee of an appointment really is a non-issue. 

-J 

Home Is Where...

"Home is where the heart is..."  Haven't we all heard that one?  I'd say that's probably true, in a cliche'd sort of way.  I do know that when I'm away from my girls, I miss them terrible, no matter where they are at the time.  So yeah, home is where the heart is...

Now, having said that, here's what's really on my mind this morning.  I'm a United Methodist pastor.  Have been for nearly 13 years now.  I'm also an Elder in full connection...which means I'm a pastor who has vowed to itinerate...which also means that I'm appointed to a community one year at a time.  We never know from June to June where we'll be, and honestly, I don't mind.

It does, however, make finding a sense of "home" difficult at times.  As long as I'm with my girls, we can be at home in a tent, but there's something about getting ready to leave some place and being able to say to my family, "Let's go home."  It's a constant search, but this week, I think I found it.

We own a home of our own, but also have a parsonage in the community I serve.  Summer before last, I put out a garden at our house and loved it.  We would sneak away for a couple days at a time so I could work the garden, but the reality is, the food I raised there cost me probably three times what it would have to buy in a grocery.  It didn't make economical sense, so I didn't plant a garden last year...and I missed it something fierce.

This year, after having moved to a new community and church, I talked to my committee about putting a garden at the parsonage.  They told me to go ahead, and that it was no problem at all, so I began to plan.  Where was I going to put it?  What would I plant?  Would I even have time?  Then this Monday, I was under orders from my wife to do something I wanted to do...just for me.  The time for planning was over, so I got my garden tiller out, pulled a couple strings, and started breaking ground. 

The smell was unbelievable.  That fresh, earthy scent took me right back to when I was a 6 year old kid, riding the tractor with my Granddaddy while he disked his fields.  After a few hours on the tiller (and 600 mg of ibuprofen), I was ready to start sowing seeds.   I stopped at the local farm store (trying to buy more local anyhow), bought my seed and a few plants, then went to work.  I brought compost over from our house and worked it into the soil, pulled more strings (I'm OCD, so the rows had to be perfectly spaced and perfectly straight) and started planting...first garlic, cabbage, lettuce, and onions.  Then an herb garden, peppers, tomatoes, squash, and peas. 

As I planted our garden, I realized that I was at home.  We may not own the house that we sleep in most nights, but now it is our home.  I can look through the dining room windows and see our garden, and it might not make sense to anybody else, but to me that was the last piece of the puzzle.  Our furniture has been here for almost a year.  The church has bent over backwards to do all they can to make us feel at home, but something was missing. 

I don't know, maybe I just need a to see a counselor or something...maybe it's gardening and not  fishing or golf that relaxes me...but as I sat on the patio this morning, with a cup of coffee, looking at our garden, and watching the birds come to the feeder, I felt at home...finally.  So, home is where the heart is...but for me, home is also where the garden is...

Whether it's a spot cut up in the back yard, or plastic totes filled with potting soil, I think this country boy, from here on out, is going to have something growing no matter where we are.



      

Screen Door Slamming...

I'm sitting at a cabin at the Kenlake State Resort Park, during a break while at our annual meeting of the fellowship of the orders of elders, deacons, and local pastors. This is our spring Spiritual Life Retreat for 2012. There is a little breeze blowing through the trees, filtered sunlight in the sky, and a sound that I have been inadvertantly blocking out for about the last 20 minutes.

I didn't even realize I was doing it.

This afternoon has been great, really. I got to get in a little trail time with some colleagues, who are also great friends. We hiked probably 3 miles or so. This morning's session was a good one. Lunch provided some great conversation with old friends, and now it's break time.

As I sit here on the screened-in porch at my cabin, I'm watching the waves dance on the Ledbetter Creek Bay of Kentucky Lake...thinking. I do that sometimes. Every now and then, not often mind you, but every now and then I'm able to stop for a few minutes, clear my mind, and just let the thoughts flow. It's really a much under appreciated moment, and honestly, goes completely unnoticed much of the time...but today I caught it.

As I'm listening to the birds and the waves, there is another sound screaming for my attention...do I dare let it in? To do so would be to shatter the beauty of the natural sounds I have been soaking in for the last few minutes...but it won't go away.

At this point I have a choice...I can begin to really pay attention to it, or I can ignore it and continue listening to the sounds of the winds, birds, and waves. Should I choose to let it in, it will overtake all that is beautiful around me. Yet if I ignore it, will it every really go away?

I choose to ignore it. "What is the sound?" you may ask...it is the sound of the screen door slamming. It's one of those noises that absolutely annoys the hell out of me. A shot of WD-40 might fix it, or I could get up and latch the screen door...or I can take this as the teaching moment it has become...sometimes there are some noises, or voices, in life that just need to be ignored...for a season.

It doesn't mean that they go away, or that at some point something doesn't need to be done to remedy the situation, but for the moment, I'm just going to be....and that's something I don't do nearly enough of.

So, screen door, slam in the breeze if you want. Make all of the noise you want to make. I choose, for this moment, to embrace the beautiful...to gaze out over the waves of Ledbetter Creek and watch the branches swaying in the breeze. I'm going to pay more attention to the sound of the gulls flying overhead, and watch the leaves sprout, and then in a bit...after my spirit has rested...I will get up and take care of you.

Why? Because the God that loves me, and that I love, calls to me each day, and this day I choose to reply..."Take me into the beautiful."

Peace,
Jamie