Tuesday, July 22, 2014

#NatsMass

Even though the Nats are in first place (what what), they lost on Friday when I was at the game.  Back in the lean, painful years of 2005-2011, John Brewer used to say I cursed the Nats with my presence.  Perhaps for the Nats sake it is best I watch from a distance on MASN, a la Sting's "I'll be Watching You."
 
As I walked to my car in sadness on Friday night, I was encouraged by a most welcome sign.  At a Catholic Church just a block from the stadium, this invitation was issued: 
 
Photo borrowed from @catholicgauze.  Edited by moi.
 
#NatsMass gives Catholics an opportunity to worship while they're on the way to the baseball game on Sunday afternoons.  I like it.  Way to go St. Vincent De Paul!
 
I was not in on the committee meetings when they decided to start this new service, but here's what the church could have done when the stadium was built a few years ago:  Thrown up their hands in frustration!  Complained about the construction and noise!  Looked in judgment at all those people skipping worship for baseball!  
 
That's what the church could have done when everything around them was changing.
  
Here's what the church did instead:  Added a service to accomodate Catholics on their way to the baseball game!  Spent $$ designing a big banner invitation to thousands!  Launched a social media campaign (#NatsMass) so folks would be welcomed.
 
There are many ways to respond to change.  #NatsMass is a good way.
 
How do most of our churches react when everything around us changes?  Do we respond with complaints and anger?  Or do we respond by spending time and $$ to reach folks in a creative way?

Since we're talking sports, I know many pastors and church folk are frustrated when youth games are scheduled on Sundays & Wednesdays.  And all sports are year round now.  I have been frustrated too. 
 
It wasn't like that when I was growing up.  My dad was often the coach and our practices on Wednesday nights followed GAs and children's & adult choirs.  I miss those days.
 
But those days aren't today.  They aren't.  And bellyachin' won't help, friends.  Many have tried that method.  It doesn't work. 
 
We can kick and scream...or we can be like this creative Catholic church.  They continue to have Mass at the regular time, but they added a service on game days to make attending services just a little bit easier.  
 
With that said:  Worship is much more important than any sporting event and we won't be able to make things easier for everyone.  Sometimes people will have to make a decision when soccer  interferes with their regularly scheduled time of worship.  Sometimes it's okay for people to have to choose. 
 
When possible though, perhaps the church could try to make things just a little bit easier.  Surely we can at least sit at the drawing board and try. 
 

Monday, July 14, 2014

Grace at God's Pace

Even when I'm worried...
Even when I'm tired...
Even when I'm frustrated...
Even when I don't understand...
Even when pride blinds me...

God's grace meets me where I am.  I'm grateful.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

On Hands and Knees

I cleaned my kitchen floors yesterday.  I'm embarrassed to admit it, but they were unbelievably gross.  Old Cheerios, crusted cranberries, sticky spots, and my tresses littered the corners of the kitchen:  The whole gang was there!  I sweep often, but rarely do I get on my hands and knees to scrub. 

While working on the floors I heard Fred Craddock preach an unassuming, outstanding sermon.  My goodness.  It was one of those sermons where the words were written just for me, just for that day, just for that moment.  And when a sermon helps me realize who I am and who I can be in Christ, that is gift.    

It didn't occur to me until later I might've actually heard the sermon because of my posture. 

I do not normally find myself in a posture of humility, and I am not normally a humble person.  There's no doubt Craddock's sermons are easy on the ears, but I think being on hands and knees helped me hear.  Perhaps a step forward in humility is first assuming the position.

Humility makes us better hearers and by physically lowering ourselves, we embrace the posture of servanthood Jesus modeled and taught. I wonder how much we miss by sitting, walking, running, or even standing behind a pulpit. 

A posture of humility can help us receive in an attitude of humility.  And maybe when our bodies are in a position to receive, our ears (and lives) more readily follow suit.

"The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen…I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees before the Blessed Sacrament."  
Brother Lawrence, Practicing the Presence of God

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

My Turn

Flying scares me. 

I do frequent the friendly skies, but a favorite hobby it is not.  Because my family lives far away, flying is a necessary part of my life.  So, I've developed little rituals to help ease my nerves.  As I board the aircraft, I touch the outside of the plane and try to meet the pilot's gaze. "Good luck. I support you," I say with my eyes. This randomly brings me some measure of comfort.

I'm not proud of my weird, but there it is.

I'm prone to motion sickness and also A GIANT METAL TUBE WEIGHING THOUSANDS OF TONS SOMEHOW LIFTS INTO THE SKY.  By the grace of God I managed a 'B' in Physics, but for the life of me I cannot understand how air travel works.  Something to do with letters, numbers, and triangles.

On Saturday night I was flying home to Virginia from Kentucky.  The older gentleman seated next to me seemed nervous.  He fumbled around for the seat belt before buckling.  As others popped in earbuds, he listened carefully to safety instructions.  Poor fellow was scared to death.

He seemed to settle a bit, but then we hit some turbulence.  He held on to the tray table like a life preserver.  I looked at him and smiled politely.  He deadpanned "I do not prefer air travel."  He looked away.  I tried to exude calm.

When the turbulence died down we began to chat. I learned this was his first flight.  He had taken the train to see his son, but circumstances necessitated a flight home.  He talked.  I listened.  Later, when his hands began to tremble I tried to reassure and support. 

It was my turn to be strong for someone else.

Being strong for someone else is not easy; especially when we have the same fears or doubts or worries.  Some may wonder if being strong for someone else is inauthentic, but I don't think it is. 

Being strong for someone else doesn't mean lying about fears or doubts or worries: It simply means giving support, strength, and calm as gift to someone else.  It's not always about me.  It's not always about you.

Sometimes it's our turn to be strong for someone else.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Learning From Those With Whom We Disagree

During the month of May Scottsville Baptist is reading and studying Thom Rainer's "I am a Church Member." It was mailed to me by my mom the easter bunny who still sends goodies via US Postal Service every spring.  I might as well say it: I'm pro-Jesus and pro-bunny.  YOU try planning Holy Week services without a Peep or seven.  Let me know how that works.  

Rainer's book has been helpful to our church.  It is easy to understand and asks good questions.  Rainer encourages the church to approach church membership as gift.  He challenges us to embody a sacrificial attitude and not to blame others (whoever the others are).  It's a good book.  

Do I agree with all of it?  No.  In the chapter about praying for church leaders the pronoun 'he' is used exclusively to describe the pastor.  Is 'he' the main point of the book?  No.  Is it distracting?  Yes.  Can I still learn from the book?  Of course.

Here's the thing:  I want to be the kind of person who not only says she has an open mind; I actually want to have one.  I fail at this often, and sometimes I'm not good at listening to folks who don't affirm my call. But I want to be better.  Seriously.  

The polarization within Protestantism is staggering. How can we move forward if we're not willing to engage? We don't have to agree 100% to learn from each other.  The name-calling and unfair comparisons seem out of control.  Are we working toward reconciliation and movement forward for Christ?   

I told Scottsville Baptist folks to put 's' before 'he' and all will be well! The joke landed PTL and we moved on. Baptists can think for themselves after all (paging soul freedom, aisle two).  If an author who leans right or left (however such adjectives are measured!) helps point us to Jesus Christ, let's dig in and learn. (Of course it won't always be this simple, but can we try?)  Harvest the wheat and brush off the chaff. 

You might read the book and think it's not helpful.  That's fine.  I'm only hoping we can approach those with whom we disagree with an open mind and gentle spirit.  It's the only way to move forward.  

Monday, May 12, 2014

This Old House.

I love this old, creaking parsonage.  Every day her bones cry out loudly and without warning. She's settling in for the next hundred I suppose.  I've grown accustomed to her hollers. 

Her floors are hardwood and they were cool before hardwood floors were cool. Sometimes I think about the life they've held: Open houses, Christmas parties, difficult conversations, Sunday School dinners, move-in celebrations, and weddings (over 150!)...if floors could talk!

The tradition of old houses excite me.  It's true:  Some walls could come down. Some repairs are warranted.  Some updating could improve the value. But in the end, old houses are pretty great.  

I like new houses too.  Open concept kitchens, palatial bathrooms, and generous backyards are hard to beat.  It's true: Luxurious amenities aren't needs, but for a family of 6 more than 1 bathroom is...helpful!

In the end, new houses are pretty great too.  New houses account for modern sensibilities and suit the palate of a 2014 homeowner-to-be.   

Both new and old houses have the same basic goal:  Shelter.  Both have their charms.  Both have their advantages and disadvantages.

Might this apply to church?

Like old and new houses, there is more than one way to "do" church.  Both new and old (should!) have the same heartbeat:  Jesus Christ is Lord!  

Yesterday our guest worship leader, Rachel Shultz, told me she is eager to come alongside traditional churches and experience with them newer expressions of worship.  She finds value in both old and new.  I like that.

Traditions shouldn't be cast aside simply because they are old or seemingly outdated.  Boo on those reasons.  At the same time new expressions shouldn't be eschewed simply because "we've never done it that way before."   Boo on those words.  Both new and old expressions of church have their gifts; why not learn from each other?

Both old and new can use renovations from time to time.  Lately I've decided to emphasize 'change' less because I don't think that's what the church needs.  I think what we all need is a holy kind of flexibility.  I think we all need to be malleable to the Holy Spirit.  I hope we are doing that. I hope I am doing that.

This month our theme is "Worship and the Arts" and we're opening ourselves to ways of worship different than our norm.  Thanks Scottsville Baptist for your willingness.  It is a joy to experience God with you in old and new ways.  

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

A Holy Privilege

As the hospital doors open, I pray God's openness in my spirit.  I pray God grants me His ears to listen.  I pray for God's wisdom. 

Sometimes I know the prognosis of the person I'm visiting.  Other times I don't.  Sometimes it is life threatening.  Other times it is life-giving.  I've held the hand of the elderly and cradled the wide-eyed newborn within the span of a few days. 

Hospital visits are a holy privilege.  Each one.

Sometimes I know the person I'm visiting.  Other times I don't.  Sometimes it is a cousin or brother or niece or friend of a friend.  I don't always know what to expect, but I know The One who goes with me. 

Lately I've visited senior members in the hospital.  It's humbling to help shepherd these saints:  They have the wisdom as vast as the Atlantic, and yet they allow me to minister to them.

Hospital visits are a holy privilege.  Each one.