Zucchini Tubs and Other Things...

Have you ever said or done something, and wondered why folks were laughing at you? Yeah, me either. I was just checking. Ok, confession time...yes I have...alot recently.

We've been painting our new to us parsonage for the last couple weeks and the other night I noticed my beautiful bride beginning to show signs of exhaustion. Our new to us parsonage is going to spoil us after we make it our own because of one thing...a huge corner jacuzzi tub in the master suite. We've never had one before and at first, I thought, "What a waste of space." I no longer think that.

After a long day's painting, I looked at Steph and she looked plumb beat, so being the wonderful and caring husband that I am, I said to her in my most compassionate and loving voice, "Hey hon, why don't you rinse out your paint brush, let me pour you a glass of sangria, and fill up the zucchini tub for you. You look like you need a break."

She started laughing. I started getting mad.
"What? Why are you laughing at me? I'm just trying to help."
"Did you hear what you just said?"

I said, "Yeah, I said, 'Why don't you rinse out your paint brush, let me pour you a glass of sangria, and fill up the zucchini tub for you." She started laughing again. Then what I had said clicked.

Two days later we slipped off to St. Louis for a couple days. We left after church on Sunday and got back late last night. It's the first vacation time we've taken as a couple in over four years, and evidently I needed a break more than I thought I did.

As we sat in the Drury Inn in Arnold, Missouri eating breakfast, I looked around and noticed that the place was packed with kids. I love kids, don't get me wrong, but it was loud. They were running around everywhere, bumping into folks, and spilling drinks, and I looked at Steph and said, "And why are all of these kids here? Shouldn't they be in school?" She started laughing. I started getting mad.

"Honey, you need a vacation. It's July. School is out for the summer." (Facepalm)

Before we left for vacation (even if it was only 2 1/2 days) I had ordered a DVD. It was from a Willow Creek leadership institute and the presenter was Wayne Codeiro, pastor of New Hope Fellowship in Oahu. The title of his presentation was "Dead Leader Running," and it humbles me every time I watch it.

For the first time in my career, I actually saw the signs of what Wayne was talking about in myself..."Shall I fill up the zucchini tub for you?"

I've talked about this before, but I have to admit, this time it kind of scared me a little. I'm one month into a new appointment and having a ball. The schedule is crazy busy, the stress level is a little higher, the expectations are greater, but I'm absolutely loving it. Zucchini tub was an eye opener for me, though. I need to pay attention to my health and my family's well being if I'm going to be able to be a shepherd for the kingdom.

Wayne said that we, as pastors, never forget we are pastors but we do forget that we are human. I had forgotten that. He went on to talk about how to prevent the breakdowns that sometimes come with the profession: find things that fill your tank and do them; find the fulcrum in your life so that balance can be maintained; lead out of rest; find a lightening rod to help keep you grounded; and discipline your daily devotions. I used to do all of those with a fair amount of regularity. Lately, not so much.

I confess that my devotion time has slipped. I must and will get that back on track. I confess that my fulcrum, my heart, has not moved to maintain the balance I need between ministry and family. I confess that I have not met with my mentor in a month or more, it's time. I confess that I have not led out of a spirit of rest. And, I confess that I have done very little to fill my tank recently.

Maybe it's feeling guilt at taking the time needed to do those things, or feeling that other things are more important and pressing at the moment, I don't know. But I do know that most kids do not go to school in July, even in Missouri, and that you can not relax in a zucchini tub. At least I know that now.

Dead leader running...I don't want that to be me.

Peace,
Jamie

Would Jesus Post Office Hours?...

I have an office. A real, honest to goodness office. I have a huge desk and it looks great. The top is a little cluttered but I know where everything is. I have a whole wall full of cabinets behind me with a great little countertop, and my set of Interpreter's Bibles takes up two whole shelves. My guitars are on stands in the corner, well, one is on a stand, the other is waiting for me to remember to bring its stand. My coffee maker is perking as we speak. The church has a great computer for me to use, sitting right here on my great desk...and the chair...oh my goodness. I'm getting one of these for the living room in the parsonage. I've got a great gig going here.

That's right, you know you're jealous of my office...but...

I don't remember where I heard it, but someone, somewhere, at some point, told me that Jesus wouldn't have had an office.

I know! Can you believe that? Why would anyone not want an office like the one I have? I mean, Jesus could have set office hours and the twelve could have had their own cubicles just outside his big corner office, and you know it would have been a corner office. I mean, just picture the sign out front..."J. Christ and Co." That's marketable. Folks could have made appointments and come by to see him, or visit, or complain, or cry...whatever they needed. Just think of all he could have gotten done. The Sermon on the Mount? Could have been written on a Dell. Kona coffee must pale in comparison to the coffee that would have been in Jesus' office...and I love me some Kona coffee.

Still, the thought that Jesus would not have had an office kind of bugs me. I love mine, honest. I can come in here on the days I post office hours, and my folks know they can reach me. We have a group that will be by in a bit, just like they do every Thursday, to pray over every name that was lifted up in the last few days. I can come in here on the days I'm not supposed to be here, leave the doors locked, and write or pray or just listen. I stream K-Love on my Dell desktop while I'm working on the teaching for the week on my laptop. (Yeah, two computers in my office.)

But...can I be an effective pastor from behind a desk? To some degree, sure. I can write great messages here. I can take care of the CEO part of the job and never leave my chair. I can kick back and listen as folks come in to talk, but ultimately, if I'm going to lead the people of God, I will have to spend some time outside with the people of God.

So...my office hours...Wednesday and Thursday from 8:30 to 11:30. I'll be in one more day, at least, so that I can really focus on writing, and I'll be here for the meetings I need to be here for. But I think that after I get settled in, two mornings each week blocked out to sit behind a desk are enough.

My prayer is that I always remember that just because I have finally arrived at the point in my career where I have a great office, and it is a great office, I never, never use it to hide from my calling to go out and make disciples of all that I meet.

Peace,
Jamie

Radical Hospitality...

"Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God." (Romans 15:7)

That's the opening scripture reference in Bishop Robert Schnase's book, "Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations." I don't really think it's a coincidence that he began the list of five with "Radical Hospitality."

I'm going to go ahead and own something up front today. This is mostly rant. I own that. Not necessarily a rant against the Church universal, or any particular congregation. In fact, this really doesn't have anything to do with the church at all. Hmm, I didn't realize that.

The other day, my wife was on a mission. We are moving into a new parsonage, well, new to us, and the church told us to go ahead and pick out bedroom furniture and give them the bill. So, Steph was shopping. She spent all day one day last week going from one furniture store to another looking at furniture, texting me pictures and prices, and trying to find furniture that would be durable, and comfortable, without blowing the budget.

Monday she asked me to go back and look at one set in particular at a store here in Paducah that shall remain unnamed...for now. It had been a long day. I was tired. I was hot. I was dressed in shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and flip flops, which is pretty much summer attire for me, but was evidently sub-standard for this particular store.

The plan was to just go in, look at this set of furniture from a construction standpoint, and then talk to the church about it, but the sentry at the door was quick to say...in her best snooty accent..."Is there anything I can help you with?" When we told her that we were looking at a set we had found the other day, the chase was on. "Well, was there someone helping you? If so, I need to know who it was." The faster we walked, the harder she chased.

Now, I understand a little about business, not a lot, but a little. And in her defense she may have actually been trying to extend customer service, but the way she came across was more like, "I have to keep an eye on these folks. Flip flops? Indeed."

The conversation may have lasted 30 seconds, but I had all I wanted, so I tapped Steph on the shoulder, told her I was done, and walked out.

See, welcome, or hospitality, or whatever you want to call it is not determined by intention, but rather by perception. Does the person walking through the door FEEL welcome? It's not enough to INTEND to make them feel welcome.

Ok, so maybe this can be a tiny, little bit about the church. We intend to make folks feel welcome, but do they? I'm not sure that I've ever stopped and asked a first time visitor to any church I have served, "Did you FEEL welcome the minute you walked through the door?" Maybe we should.

So, thank you unnamed furniture store for reminding me once again how important it is to make sure everyone who walks through our doors knows without a doubt that they are welcome.

Peace,
Jamie

Saved by the Irish...

Methinks I may have poked a hornet's nest with a stick last night. I didn't mean to, honestly, but a friend of mine sent me a message about something he and I both posted on our Facebook pages letting me know that I was going to start something by putting that out there...he was right.

I love putting things out that make folks think. Yeah, sure, sometimes when folks start thinking they get upset, and the reasons are innumerable. (I can use big words every now and then). But, if our way of thinking is never challenged, if we're never stretched beyond where we are now, can we ever really grow?

...and...I have grown a little since last night.

I'm reading a book now called "The Celtic Way of Evangelism," and evidently, the Irish actually helped preserve the church as we know it today. Who'd have thunk it? Long story short, evidently Celtic Christianity is responsible for re-evangelizing Europe, helping kick off the Renaissance, and helping usher in the Holy Roman Empire...all great things. One would think that everyone would be tickled that folks were doing those things, and most everyone was...except the Roman Church. Evidently, they were quick to criticize the Celtic evangelical movement.

Here's what hit me this morning.

The arcticle I posted last night that might have been the stick in the hornets' nest was about why there are no young people/kids/youth in most of our churches. The reason the author of this article gave was because we, as parents, have allowed everything else to become more important than corporate worship, which I still agree with. We have. Baseball games, swim meets, soccer, volleyball...you name it. Our kids are always "on the go" on Sunday morning, or at least it seems that way.

My daughter plays volleyball on her high school team, but we are blessed to have a volleyball coach, who is also a Christian. I told him that my daughter would not be there for practice or games on Sunday morning and he didn't kick her off of the team. That, I realize, is the exception and not the norm.

Now...here's the "Aha!"

Which is more important...gathering in a corporate body to worship the Triune God as a group? Or...gathering in a corporate body to worship the Triune God as a group on Sunday morning?

The Celts were successful because they were willing to do things a little differently than the way Rome had been doing things. Sooooo, and this is just me thinking out loud...if we are concerned about folks taking their kids to soccer or volleyball or baseball or basketball on Sunday morning...and not being in worship on Sunday morning...do we have to be married to the idea of Sunday morning worship as the only/primary worship experience we offer?

If Sunday is when they practice, or have tournaments, or whatever, would we be selling out to the culture around us if we offered worship on Saturday night for those folks who couldn't/wouldn't be there on Sunday morning? And which is more important, butting heads with the culture around us over something like this, or presenting an opportunity to bring a little Jesus into folks' lives?

Since entering the ministry, I have begun to see which swords I'm willing to fall on, which hills I'm willing to die on, and this morning I realized that this just isn't one of them. It is a real problem...it's a great article, and I still agree with what the guy said, but if this is the biggest problem the church is facing, this one's an easy fix. We can solve this one, no problem, which will allow us to spend the time we would have spent arguing over why sports are more important that worship doing things that really make a difference.

So, thank you George Hunter III for letting me see that we were actually saved by the Irish. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a Saturday evening worship event to start praying over and planning out. Rome might not like it, but hey, I'm not really concerned about what Rome thinks.

Here's a link to the article if you'd like to read it...

http://scottlinscott.wordpress.com/2010/03/10/your-kids-an-all-star-wow-someday-hell-be-average-like-the-rest-of-us

Peace,
Jamie

Weigh Anchor...

Well, it's just about time. Most of the cargo has been moved and the crew is preparing to set sail; the hatches are battened just in case; the anchor's aweigh, the bow's pointed to the horizon, and we're just lying ahull.

Ok, I'm not really a pirate...or a sailor. In fact, I don't think I've ever been on a sailboat. I just like the way they talk, but we are getting ready to sail. Well, not really sail, but head to a new port. Well, not really a port, but a new locale.

A week from Tuesday I'll take my place at the ship's wheel of Grace Church in LaCenter. I'm excited about the future and look forward to the challenges ministry there will bring. At the same time, it was a very tough decision to leave Hickman Harbor. (Hickman really does have a harbor, so that wasn't just a cheap shot at interjecting another nautical term) It's been a great run. We've built relationships and have made great friends.

So, not being one to engage in long good-byes, I want to take a moment to let my crews at Hickman First and Beech Grove know that you will always hold a place in our hearts. Together, we have laughed and cried, agreed and disagreed, made mistakes and offered forgiveness...and I give God thanks for allowing our paths to cross. I have every confidence that your new captain will follow the headings given to her by God and lead you to where God would have you sail.

My prayers go with you all, and until we are moored in that safest of harbors, God bless you and keep you.

Peace,
Jamie

Stand By Me...

Confession in advance, this is part rant, but mostly thanksgiving.

See, there's something that's been bothering me for over 9 months and I am ready to put it to bed. I was told by someone in the church I serve that my flock thought I was unapproachable, aloof, and uncaring. Now, I'm a pretty tough guy, but I'll admit that really bothered me. (Oh boo hoo, Jamie. Grow up.) Folks have been telling me for years that, as pastors go, I'm very approachable, and I guess that's why this got to me. I never let on that it bothered me, but it did, and I know that if you're going to be in the field that I have given my life to you have... have... have to have tough skin, so I just kept on trucking. (Cue the drill sergeant telling me, "Well why don't we just mosey on over to namby pamby land and get you some self confidence! You jack wagon!") Having heard that folks saw me that way left me struggling with the "Am I really making a difference?" question, and really made me question everything I had been doing for the past 11 years.

So the rant is... Before you say something critical to someone else, think about how it's going to affect that person. Is it something that really needs to be said? Is it going to make things better or worse? If you were the other, would you want someone to say that to you? Words are cheap, but not always helpful. Now I realize that I have a nasty tendency to put too much weight on others' opinions and I'm not going to do that anymore. The rant is now over...on to the thanksgiving.

Monday night saw the culmination of an eleven year journey for me. I have to say, I'm actually kind of surprised I stuck with it. Steph says I'm classic ADD, and there have been times in my life when Ron White's "That boy's gotta whole lot of quit in him" might have been spoken about me. It's not always been easy, but then, nothing worth giving yourself to is. There were long days and short nights while I was working on my bachelors's degree and Master's of Divinity degree... peer group meetings... theological statements to write and rewrite... interviews... questions to struggle with... psych evaluations... and the list goes on and on. Monday night, that part of my journey came to an end. I was ordained as an elder in full connection in the United Methodist Church...finally.

I would love to thank each person who has helped me on this journey individually, but I'm afraid I would leave someone out. There have been folks who have encouraged me along the way, who have sent me notes or emails telling me that they knew I had been called by God and had what it took to be a pastor in the UMC. There have been folks who stood by me when I became frustrated and questioned whether or not I should continue. ...and there have been folks who challenged me (cough..cough..Dave :D ), which only made me look deeper into who I was and what I believed, making me a much better pastor.

Monday night was the ordination service, and it really is a beautiful service. Bishop Wills pulled a chair down to the front of the stage in front of the ordinands, and though he was preaching in front of hundreds, seemed to have written his message just for us. Then, as we were brought on stage for our ordination, friends and family were asked to stand as a sign of support and love. Over the years I have stood up for several while they were ordained...this year it was my turn.

After the service, Steph came up to me and the first thing she said was, "Were you able to turn around and see all of the people standing up for you? It had to be nearly 3/4 of the people in the room." That was when I realized that I am loved...not unapproachable, aloof, and uncaring.

This is just me, but I think we are way too quick to criticize, and not nearly quick enough to stand up for, or with, someone. It takes guts, sometimes, to stand up for someone else.

So, to all of the people who stood for me Monday night, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. To the people who have stood by me during this process, thank you. To the people who have been critical along the way, thank you also, because you have caused me to look deeper within myself and I am a stronger person and better pastor for it.

Now, as a sign of that thanks, I'm going to vow to do everything I can to stand with you as we stand for the other. After all, that is what we are called to do.

Here's a link to a video that Bishop Wills shared during Conference this year:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Us-TVg40ExM

(You may have to copy and paste the link into your browser)

Peace,
Jamie

Plugging Back In...

Well that was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Yesterday, I wrote that I was taking a Sabbath from all things online. After I finished writing, and posted the blog, I shut everything down and walked away. I've said on here before, and I mentioned it again yesterday, just how dependent I am on the internet. The reality of that was driven home again over the last 24 hours.

I admit, it was nice to just get up and walk away. I actually felt the stress level drop...for a while. I got the motorcycle out, actually put some sunscreen on this time, and took off. Being on the bike is different than driving in the truck. When I'm two wheeling, I can't even answer the phone or a text, so there is a definite disconnect. (Not that I text while I drive, of course) It's just different.

After a while, I wound up in Murray at the Dairy Queen (I still haven't figured out how that happened) and after a footlong chili dog, rode on up to our house. Still disconnected, still unplugged. Then I spent the afternoon just kind of hanging around our place. I fished a little, mowed a little, and just sat on the front porch a little. Then it was date night with my favorite girl, and we had an appointment with a bunch of pirates on the big screen. A good day.

Now the tough part...I have no idea how many times I thought "I need to get online and check this...or that...or whatever." While I was not online physically, I couldn't get my mind to disconnect, and honestly I don't know how to fix that. Have I become so dependent on technology that I no longer know how to live without it?

I don't think so, but I do think it's time to take care of me a little more than I have been...physically, emotionally, and spiritually. If that includes an intentional unplugging once a week, that's what I'm going to do. But hey, I've said that before.

So, today I plug back in...some. I've already read my Life Journal texts for today. I've checked email. Now to start research for sermon prep. I can stay online to do that, can't I?

Peace,
Jamie