Easter Debriefed

I hope ya’ll had a wonderful Easter yesterday! Easter is one of those bitter sweet days for pastors like me. The congregation I serve has a pretty busy schedule during Holy Week, with a Seder dinner, Good Friday service, Saturday prayer service, and three services on Easter Morning. Holy Week and Easter are a pretty emotionally and spiritually charged time for me (Duh!) so each of those gatherings and events have their own meaning and emotional connection for me. There is a lot of effort and emotion that goes into them, so as I make those last few step on the journey of Lent, to Easter I am pretty exhausted (Not to mention i have had about the worst two week stint of allergy symptoms I think I have ever had!). It’s easy for Easter to be another item on a busy week, in fact the biggest item on the check list for that week.

I suck at taking my own advise. Typically, I tell people get rid of that idea that this is one of the biggest crowds that will gather all year at the church so, “I better have something impressive for them,” and just let them know that Jesus loves them and so do you. We’ll i try to have every preaching moment show Jesus in some way, but on Easter i spend probably three times the amount of prep-time for that preaching moment. I put a lot of pressure on myself to “hit one out of the park”. So again Easter can feel like a looming, ginormous event that I have to really perform for. I tell you this to confess that I am usually kinda grumpy and short with people all through Holy Week ( how pastoral of me huh?)

BUT, once we get into that time of worship, the incredibleness of what Easter is really about hits me like a ton of bricks. I think i set a record this year by not crying like a baby until about 46.8 seconds into the time of worship. Usually i make it to “happy Easter “ and I’m gone. This year I was halfway through the opening prayer before i lost it

After worship my wife made a great ham dinner that we as a family shared (My wife is awesome, and totally hot, in case you didn’t know!) My son said grace and thanked Jesus for loving us “and oh i forgot thanks for the food too... Amen” After dinner the kids got their Easter baskets, and we all played video games and relaxed (well, they played ... I watched, My family has a fondness for Zelda that i don’t share, I’m more a drive race car, fly fighter plane kinda guy) but it was a good day. Perfect after a long Holy Week!

I hope you had a similarly good Easter day!

Talk to ya' next week

Mark

Pastor V. 2.0... Maybe 1.8...

A letter was read during the worship services at Orchards UMC on Sunday informing the congregation that it was Bishop Grant Hagiya’s intention to appoint me to start a new church in the Vancouver, Wa area July 1, 2009. The reading of that letter brings to fruition over 3 years of work to answer a call that my wife and I have felt from God.

I don’t have a whole lot to write today on the topic, mostly because it is by far the largest thing occupying my thoughts today, and I have written much of my ideas in the pages of this blog over the past couple of years.

I will say this; although my wife and I are beyond excited to be called to this new chapter in our lives of ministry, we enter it with a tear in our eye. We have served Orchards UMC for 9 years. They are are the only church my kids have ever known. I have baptized kids there, I have officiated funerals for dear friends there. I can remember trying to make sense of the attacks on September 11th during a children’s sermon in the sanctuary of that community. I have prayed with families when son’s and daughters, husbands and wives, moms and dads were deployed to very dangerous places for military service, I have rejoiced when soldiers came home to waiting families, These are friends who I chose to share my life with. I say “chose”, because some think that when you are appointed by the Bishop to serve a congregation you are automatically part of a community. That is not the case. You choose to be part of a community. It was wonderful to have friends from that community meet me on the platform after the worship service, and hug me and tell me they loved me, and will miss me, but that they know God is calling me to this work.

The church I feel called to start doesn’t fit well into the United Methodists boxes and categories. There isn’t a manual that I can turn to page 3 paragraph 5 and read how to do this. At this point I have probably as many questions as I have answers, and this blog will be a place where I work out ideas, share thoughts and stories of this journey.

For those of you that read this blog fairly regularly, please be praying for my family and I, as we prepare to begin this chapter. AND be praying for this new community that will be forming in Vancouver, WA. - Pray that this would provide the perfect avenue for those who have given up on a relationship with God will find new life in it, that those who have wanted “church” to make a difference in the world will answer a call to service, that those who have felt alone and lonely in their journeys of faith would find a compassionate community of faith hope , love and service. JUST PRAY.

Have a great week friends!

Coffee with Pastor Suit

Ok I admit it. I am an eavesdropper. As I sit in Mon ami coffee shop today I have spent the last 15 minutes listening to the conversation behind me, as i surf my PNWRiders.com web site.

I also have to admit that i know nothing of the backgrounds of the people I am going to be writing about, and that i have my own personal “chip on my shoulder” that will affect my hearing of their conversation. And I wish that the clothes they were wearing were different but hey i didn’t get a chance to make the wardrobe call.

The two guys behind me are having a deep conversation about church. One is wearing a black expensive suite and tie with shiny shoes the other is in jeans sweat shirt and converse shoes. Its obvious that the suite guy is either the pastor or on staff in some way at a church and the other guy is deciding weather he wants to be involved with his church in some way.

I wasn’t planning on writing about my two fellow coffee house patrons this morning but I was intrigued by their conversation. Mr. Sweatshirt seemed to pretty knowledgeable about the Christian faith and especially with the teachings of Jesus and had a pretty well thought out theology of community and grace. which is where i think his rub with Pastor suite came in. But what stood out for me was the lengths sweatshirt guys went to to avoid being labeled “liberal”. He said “I don’t wanna sound like a no rules liberal” and other like phrases. To which pastor suit would reply “Oh no i don’t think you are that...” Sweatshirt man jumped from topic to topic ; leaders in the church being divorced, grace those that don’t fit the “behavior” of the congregation. He used phrases like “whose in and whose out, who is like me?.” Pastor suit responded in several ways and ultimately said “well, it takes practice”. I didn’t know if he was saying it takes practice to welcome those who look, act and see the world differently with God’s love... or it takes practice to not be bothered by the fact that people like sweatshirt guy wont be welcomed...

I think Mr. Sweatshirt, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, is a liberal... DUN DUH DUNNNNNN........ Maybe not in a political agenda sense, but in a “liberty” sense. In fact it took all that I had, not leave my business card on his table, because i was resonating with him on a pretty deep level. BUT I also feel for Pastor Suit and his inability to really address the frustrations Mr. Sweatshirt was struggling with. In my very biased opinion, one was speaking about issues of discipleship and incarnation, the other was talking about organizational identity and church growth. One wanted to know how is being part of this group or church going to make me a more compassionate person and a disciple that connects and transforms the world. One wanted to know how you could be a member of his church.

They ended up talking about some non “churchy” things as the conversation ended.

I wonder how many of these conversations happen all over Vancouver. I wonder how many faithful Christians are struggling to find communities that encourage them and even join them on their journey of discipleship that isn’t rooted in “join my church” but in liberty found only in Jesus.

As a pastor i hope i never find myself in the position of saying “it takes practice...” rather than “what can i do to help you answer this call to be what God is calling you to be?...” After all the Kingdom of God is at hand isn’t it?

your milage may vary...

News that my friend Sisyphus needs to hear

I have been re-learning a lot about Greek and Roman mythology lately. The main reason is that my son has discovered a new series of books called Percy Jackson and the Olympians, which retells many of the stories of Greek mythology with a modern twist. Last week my son and I were getting a hot chocolate and latte' at one of my favorite coffee shops in Vancouver called Mon Ami before he went to school. While we were enjoying our warm beverages I was reading a small local weekly paper that was on the table (I’m sorry i don’t remember the name of the paper or I’d provide a link) Anyway, one of the articles/advertisements was an interesting thought about the myth of Sisyphus, the poor man who angered Zeus and was doomed to push a rock up a hill only to have it roll down the other side for an eternity. The article mentioned a french philosopher named Albert Camus who saw the myth in another light. Camus proposed that the only way Sisyphus could bear such an eternity was if he “loved the rock”. The article then went on to say we should join a gym and work out more. A part of me agrees with Camus, not so much about the joining a Gym part, but changing our attitudes about difficult things. Sometimes the things we dread can become the things we love. But an even larger part of cringes at the idea.
If we talk ourselves into “loving the rock” it may make the task bearable, maybe even enjoyable, but it erases the hopes and dreams of a life. I want to ask what about the dreams for Sisyphus's life, his kids his family? If we talk ourselves into desiring the absurdity of pushing a rock for eternity what happens to the dreams of our soul.
Maybe this resonates so sharply with me because I find myself in relationships with clergy who are more and more loosing the dreams of their call. They find themselves serving institutions and organizations as a necessary evil of “doing the work of the gospel” Their dreams as young men and women answering a call from God to offer a relevant gospel to their peers... for faith to be something that transforms all of creation, was lost somewhere in the trustees meeting over the color of the carpet at the church building or in questioning whether the doughnuts at coffee time should be powdered or have sprinkles... or (Insert your own misguided priority here). I hear more and more from my colleagues in ordained ministry and from seminary professors who are training a new generation of ministers, that it is increasingly difficult to live out a call from God in the church as we know it today. In fact I find more men and women NOT pursuing ordained ministry because if they do it means giving up a significant part of what they believe God is calling them to be. When we, who are frustrated, describe the type of church we dream of, the priorities and values that would guide it, we hear too often “we don’t have any churches like that” from our judicatories and cabinets. Even worse I hear from colleges who have been told “we don’t have churches like that, maybe you better just learn to serve the churches we have”. From an institutional standpoint I see the point, and in fact wouldn’t expect a different answer from cabinets and judicatories, but for those of us who desperately and passionately answered a call from God it sounds like “Sisyphus maybe you should just learn to love that rock”
I guess my point in all this is if you are one of those who has answered a call to serve God as a minister of the Gospel, or if you are feeling the inklings of that call, don’t give up on the dreams God’ breathes into your heart. Don’t settle for pushing a rock when your soul cries out for community and creation transformed by the Holy Spirit.
Friends live this gospel wherever you are, and never lose sight of what God is calling you to be. Tell Sisyphus what Isaiah told us. “A voice cries out: In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Have a great week friends!

A rose by any other name... might smell like a lemon

Have you ever had those moments where you hear something differently than anyone else? I have had two examples of it in the last few weeks. I wanna get some thoughts down on LCD screen about one of those experiences. It was on inauguration day. I was watching president Obama's speech over the live internet feed on CNN.com. One of their features on the live stream was a connection to face book where you can see people's status updates as the speech was underway. As the speech unfolded I was amazed at the status messages that were scrolling down the right side of my screen. One in particular made me shake my head. It only flashed for a moment but someone had posted " 'so and so' is calling all her friends to say we can live again!" Now I understand that many people don't like the direction our country seemed headed in recently (I included). I understand that many people don't like the politics of the Republican party (even some of us who are registered Republicans) . I understand that many people don't like George W. Bush on a more personal level, or the way he expresses his faith in God. But to say "I can live again" now that a new administration is in office?? Give me a freakin break... Some of us are just spoiled. Tell that to the millions of people who have been brutally slaughtered when they stood against their government’s policies, or spoke out. “My album only went quadruple platinum after i said bad things about our president in other countries”... Oh God the horror of the persecution... I can hear people in Laos saying “Holy crap how do they live in America when your album only goes quadruple platinum?” (Ok getting off my soap box). What I found even more ironic was that I was utterly unimpressed by our new presidents speech! While others were expressing euphoria at the new found life Obama was offering I was thinking "Wow, this is the same speech I have heard from president Bush at least 4 times, Senate Republicans and Democrats too.” Appeals for God's blessings on our country, personal addresses to our enemies, pledges to defend our "way of life"... Even comedy central picked up on it ...

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Changefest '09 - Obama's Inaugural Speech

Daily Show Full Episodes
Funny Political Videos

Important Things With Demetri Martin
More Funny Videos

When I was in college, Gov. Jerry Brown was running for president and he came to my college to make a speech. I was never planning on voting for him. I figured his first official act as president if elected would be to legalize pot. I wasn't really his “demographic”. In fact I was holding a student advisory position at the college at the time, and Gov. Brown was using our office as a staging area before the speech. I was amazed to see the Governor's body guards dressed in tie die t-shirts, dread locks and sunglasses. BUT Jerry's speech was an eye opener for me (no i didn't vote for him). He spent the majority of the speech laying out how the two parties are basically run by the same people, corporations, and same pursuit of power and money. No matter what party you vote for you get the same thing... I think Jerry was right. He went on to say that he was a candidate who was going to be different than the same old politics and policies (and yes he would have been... I don't mean that in a good way :-) But from that moment on I have viewed political rhetoric with a heightened sense of skepticism.

I prey that our new president does lead us into a new chapter as a country. I hope that those who heard something i didn't are motivated to be something, and do something different. I do pray for God's blessings for our country (and for all the other countries of the word for that matter!) But most of all i pray as my entire congregation does every sunday that God's "kingdom would come, on earth as it is in heaven"

Duck, duck, goose

Awhile back I was at a seminar in which Len Sweet was one of the speakers. As part of Len’s presentation (I call it a presentation rather than a lecture, If you have ever sat through the shot gun blast of information that is a Len Sweet lecture you know what I mean) he brought up the subject of a phenomenon known as the “Well Curve”. Many of us remember the good ol’ “Bell Curve” in which the majority was lumped in the middle forming a bell shape. In recent years we have seen a trend, rather than the largest grouping being in the middle we are finding more people attracted to either end of a spectrum creating a “well” in the middle . In churches we used to see the majority of people congregating in the middle-sized churches, with a few being involved in the mega-church style or in a small home group discipleship style of church. There seems to be an exodus in the middle-sized church as people either move towards the mega-church style or flock towards more personal communities leaving the middle-sized churches in difficult straights.

I was thinking about this the last time I was out on a motorcycle ride around the lake and a few things came to mind that I’d like to put down on LCD screen about the whole church size conversation.

As I start, I need to let you know what my back ground is. I am the product of the mega- church. The church I grew up in was seeker sensitive before we knew that's what you were supposed to call it. I heard Bob Schueller speak from the pulpit, My father was on the board of trustees and helped dig the ceremonial first shovel full of dirt as a multi million dollar building was created. I learned about Jesus and grace and forgiveness in the classrooms and worship services of that church which I dearly loved and still do. When I was a young seminary student and pastor my dreams were to become the type of pastor that worked as a CEO of a mega-ministry such as the one I grew up in. I realize that there is something inspiring about worship together with a huge group of people, and the potential good such churches can do with the resources they command is inspiring as well. I am pro big church.

BUT somewhere along the line, God pulled my call in another direction. I found myself talking with more people who wanted something different than a big building on a hill and million dollar projects. They wanted community rather than institution. They wanted to be doing something that made a difference in the world rather than being a part of a ministry of their church that changed the world. They wanted partners on a journey of faith. To be honest I wanted that too.

I think both experiences have a unique fingerprint of God on them. The church I grew up in has literally fed thousands of people who were in need, It has raised thousands of dollars to build seminaries in Africa. My friends who are members of more personal communities, have fed those in need and sent money to projects overseas, as well as across the street. They have gone shopping as families to provide meals for others, opened their homes as friends and put a personal face on the ministry they felt called to. Both of them inspire me!

What disturbs me is the rift that seems to divide the two. I find that in the area of new church development, at least in mainline denominations, there is an infatuation with the huge institutional mega-church. If a new congregation doesn’t have a hint of (Insert your denominations favorite mega-church) to it , or if it doesn’t have building plan and property acquisition in its initial plans, it is “risky” or “cutting edge” My denomination seems to forget all too easily that it was Methodist class meetings and societies that changed countless lives of individuals in England and early America with groups of 10-15 people. Not only were lives changed but the climate of entire cultures were redirected because of the influence of these small societies. More than a few historians point to the fact that England avoided the same kind of bloody revolution the French experienced specifically because of the Methodist societies and classes giving a voice to the poor. Similar things can be said for the Kenya while other countries were experiencing bloody tribal wars.

Again let me say I am pro big church, but I am very much against the notion that the work of God’s kingdom is best done in that setting. For many the personal communities of emerging churches are the God send they have been waiting for. A small community that replicates itself over and over, in many cases can in 20 years have a more profound effect on individuals and communities than a mega-church with 2000 in worship services on Sunday mornings.

While on a motorcycle ride around the lake I stopped to pray and enjoy the view and I noticed that as fall was coming, there were in front of me about 15 or 16 small groups of duck all over the lake. A bunch of three here, and five over there, and four a little farther away. There were probably 50 or so of them spread out with their little duck friends close by. As I was watching the ducks a shadow blocked out the sun. A huge flock of geese flew over the lake and then came in for a landing. They were huge and noisy and honking and everyone and everything on and around the lake turned to see what was going on when they landed. They dominated the attention of the whole lake. They landed with a splash and the whole group paddled over to a shallow section of lilly pads and started to eat. It dawned on me that this was a model of the church right in front of me. I quickly counted the geese and there were about 45 in the flock. There were just as many ducks on the lake but they didn’t seem to command the attention the geese did. I’m not sure I would be willing to say it’s better to be a goose rather than a duck, but it seems that in many of our churches today we do say such things by our actions of support or lack of it. I am so thankful there are flocks of geese on my lake, but I am rooting for the ducks too!

Your milage may very...

Mark finds his groove...

Hi friends,

Well, it has been a while since I have posted anything up on the blog. I have kinda' be in a funk for the last couple months, and not in the mood to do much writing.

For those of you that read this page regularly, you know that my father passed away in October. I have found that when something traumatic like that happens the rest of the world doesn’t stop, or really even slow down for that matter. Not because the world is a cold dark hearted place, but just because people have their own stuff, and the world keeps spinning. My personality is such that when major events happen in my life, especially traumatic ones, I want to stop and go away for a while. I don’t want to talk, or write or "share". When I can spend some time processing, and in a sense find some handles, then I’m ready to jump back into the swing of things.

The problem as a pastor, especially at the end of October, is that you don’t really get an opportunity to stop and go away for awhile. The season of advent is bearing down, children’s programs are planned, holiday open houses, and all the rest. If you are like me, when you pull back and don’t engage those things wholeheartedly you feel a sense of guilt about short changing those people you serve, at least I do. That's my stuff, and in no way a comment on the congregation I serve. They have been compassionate, caring and graceful to me as I wade through all the emotions, responsibilities and busyness of the holidays while feeling like I’m running on half a tank of gas.


Having said all that, I figured it was time to start getting back into a routine. Part of that routine is getting back to writing every Monday. So this is my first stab at getting back in the groove. I have several things I’ll be putting down on paper (or more correctly LCD screen)in the days ahead. In the mean time have a wonderful week and tell someone you love them today.

Mark

Meet my dad...

I apologize that I haven’t been posting much on the blog lately. I set a gopal of trying to have something up each week, but I have done a poor job of meeting that goal the last few weeks.

Last Sunday at abour 3:20 my Father passed away after a massive heart attack. If you keep up with my blog you probably saw the post I made about it last Monday. Saturday was his Memorial service. It was one of those bitter sweet moments where you love seeing family that you haven’t seen for a long time, and get to share memories and time together, but there is the elephant in the room as to why we are all here together - because my dad has died. (i found in his library a stack of papers that was every entry of this blog that he had printed out i assume to make it easier to read)

As many of you know who have gone through the death of a parent or other family member there are lots of things that you need to do and take care of. Since i have some writing experience i volunteered (with the help of my brother and sister) to write dad’s obituary and a eulogy that was read at my dad’s memorial service on Saturday. Since there isn’t much else occupying my mind today i figured I would post up dad’s eulogy, and let you get a glimpse of this man that meant so much to me and as I have found out more this week meant so much to so many others. I apologize for its length but dad wasn’t really a guy you could sum up in half a page - in fact as i wrote this I found myself editing it down because there was so much about dad I could share... So here my friends is a BRIEF telling of my dads life...

As I sit down to write our shared memories of our dad, I realize my recollections will surface more than others, which isn't fair and I apologize. I know we all have so many wonderful memories overpowering our thoughts today. As we sat around the table on Monday night I realized our memories and impressions are so limited compared to all the things that dad was to so many people; a friend, a coworker, a teacher, a role model - the list goes on and on. I want to be sure that this is clear; although these comments are made in regards to our father, Steve, Nancy and I are keenly aware it was the partnership of our mom Gerry, with our father Bill, that filled our home with the joy and they together made our family a very special and unique entity which we treasure beyond words.

Bill was born in Pittsburgh Kansas on January, 22nd 1929 to Guy and Clara McMurray. Guy was a hard working school teacher who ultimately became a superintendent of schools and a very successful athletic coach, part of the reason Bill loved sports and was so successful at both football and basketball. Clara, Guy's wife, helped raise her all male family and was forever known as the grandma “who always made sure the grandchildren ate the crust on their bread whenever they visited.”

Bill attended the University of Kansas where he earned a degree in bio physics. On the recommendation of his brother Paul McMurray, Bill moved to Washington State to seek employment at the Hanford Nuclear Reservation. At the time nuclear technology was the cutting edge of science and Bill was exploring new frontiers. It was here in Richland that Bill met a petite gorgeous young woman named Geraldine Sue Kelsey. Gerry was living with her brother and sister-in-law who also came out to Richland to find employment. Their first date was to a local football game and the two ultimately were married in a backyard ceremony at the home of her brother Bud Kelsey and his wife Joyce. Bill and Gerry were married for 57 years.

Bill's career spans 40 years at the Hanford Nuclear Reservation, and was mostly concerned with the area of health physics and emergency preparedness. Bill worked for years in the era where he wasn't at liberty to tell people what he did for a living. In the span of his career Bill was a member of the Health Physics Society and had several articles published in their journal and was a respected expert in the field. On a number of occasions his expertise was called on in the times of crisis. In the aftermath of the Three Mile Island mishap, Bill was requested to review safety procedures. Because he was considered one of the few people who had expertise in Graphite Core Reactors, he was on a short list of people who would have been sent to Russia in 1986, had their government asked for help following the Chernobyl accident. Our family was thankful he was never sent to Russia to deal with that situation.

Bill and Gerry adopted their first child Steve in 1958, and adopted their daughter Nancy in 1961. It takes special people to provide a loving home to a child and bring them into their heart. Both Steve and Nancy have commented on their eternal gratefulness that God provided them the gift of a mother and father like our parents. In the summer of 1968 I was born. In my less sanctified moments I would say I was the real McMurray to which Steve and Nancy would reply “mom and dad picked us... they had to keep you”.

Even with sibling fights and arguments the three of us are forever in debt to our mother and father for providing such a wonderful home and family for us to grow in. Our parents encouraged us to be anything we wanted to be-we never felt like there was anything we couldn't do. Our home was a place where we built 747's out of refrigerator boxes and forts with the couch cushions. Our home was a place where Steve could follow behind Dad with his toy lawn mower as Dad mowed the lawn. It was a home where Dad taught me how to shoot a hook shot, and throw a football in the backyard. Our home was a place where Dad always made sure there was plenty of lighter fluid for Nancy's flaming batons for her competitions with the Atomic Twirlers. Our home was a place where we packed ice coolers and blankets to head out to Tri-City Raceways every Friday night, or to the hydroplane races every July. Nancy remembers her friends loved the opportunity to spend the night because our home was a special place and they were always greeted with a warm heart and a warm cookie! Dad did most of the addition work to our house on his own, and no code inspector should ever go near there. Yet the home our Mom and Dad built was so much more than wood and shingles.

Over the years our family has grown. It's not uncommon to have 20 plus people gathered for a Thanksgiving celebration. People have come into our family through the front door, the side door, down the chimney or through a window, but no matter how they entered, they found themselves part of our family. Dad always loved us and welcomed us. Nancy recalls - “Dad never judged me--even when I made mistakes or was having problems--he always loved me”. Dad was so proud of his kids and grandkids, if you didn't hear about how great his daughter's apple orchard was, or how skillful Steve was at the bus rodeo, or what a great pastor I was, you certainly weren't listening to Dad very long. I wish my kids and the rest of Dad's grandkids could have known him when he was more active. But I know for each of his grandkids, there were few places better or safer than sitting on grandpa's lap.

Dad loved to travel and we as a family visited most of the United States together. We survived traveling through the desert of Arizona going 112 mph in a 1973 Ford Galaxy 500 to visit his parents. We survived a trip to Miami Beach in a 1975 VW pop-up camper van, even though the transmission disintegrated along the road side in the warm embrace of the wheat fields of Dodge City Kansas. Not to mention it was the first--and last time that I got to pee on a grain silo while waiting for a tow truck. Along the way Dad always gave us a sense of history and family on those trips.

Dad's faith has always been inspiring to us. Dad literally taught hundreds of bible studies in this congregation that he dearly loved. I would assume most of the people here honoring our dad sat in at least one class he taught here. For years Dad and Mom served as Lay Witness Mission Coordinators. They traveled the region leading lay run gatherings--helping people rediscover a deep and passionate faith--or helped people discover faith for the first time. One of my earliest memories is playing with hot wheels on the floor while Dad lead a meeting in a home during one of those Lay Witness Missions. It was not unusual in our house to have Dad pray or be reading scripture. Faith was something Dad and Mom showed us everyday--it was a very special gift they shared with Steve, Nancy and me. For me it was foundational in my own journey that lead me into ordained ministry. Dad's grandson Brian recognized it was 3:16 pm last Sunday afternoon when Dad passed away…is there a better time to be reminded of God's love for us as so beautifully stated in John 3:16?

In recent years Dad's health had sharply declined. For 28 years he battled diabetes, he was a prostate cancer survivor, then liver and heart problems ultimately wore Dad's body out. Yet his spirit remained steadfast and true, even if it meant using a wheel chair to visit his grandson Brian in the hospital for pneumonia, or walking slowly but surly to McDonalds with “the kids” to get a happy meal. Before moving to their house in Pasco, Dad had 20 years-worth of happy meal toys in every nook and cranny of their Richland house. Dad loved kids and as Steve said - “there was no place better than sitting on dad's shoulders and feeling like you were a mile in the sky”.

I wrote on my web blog Monday Morning “The most brilliant faithful man I have ever known went home today - rest in peace dad”

Steve, Nancy and I are better people because of our father Bill McMurray

Our beautiful mother and our families will miss you and we know an important part of us is missing--but we know Jesus was there to meet you with open arms. We hold-on to the thought of you with a body that works like it's suppose to, in a place where there are no tears, and you don't have to sneak your snickers candy bars!

A great man went home yesterday!

One of the most brilliant, faithful men I have ever known, passed away yesterday. My Father, Bill J. McMurray died after a massive heart attack at the ICU at Kadlac Medical Center in Richland, WA at 3:20 pm. Rest in peace dad.

Thank you Dr. Zanders, what a blessing to have a Dr. with such a strong Christian faith, as my family and I waded through all that together. I wouldn't expect anything less from the son of two Salvation Army pastors! And thank you to the rest of the ICU staff at Kadlac you were wonderful!

To my friends, drink a toast to Bill McMurray if you get a chance.

The Gospel according to Walt??

Well, a couple of you have asked me to get around to giving you some reflections on the whole “Disney” experience I had while on Vacation a few weeks ago. One of the drawbacks of being a pastor is that the job and calling of a pastor tends to swallow up every aspect and experience. I find myself examining many things, not on their own merits, but in light of church/ church culture and faith. Disneyland was no different for me. I want to make it clear that I don’t think that Christ's Church and Disneyland are the same thing (at least most of the time). Disney is a very artificial carefully constructed creation that is extremely protected from the outside world. Hmm maybe there are more similarities then i first thought... maybe not with Christ’s bride the church, but the church we seem to have created in the western world...

I also want to preface this by saying that Disneyland is one of my favorite places, I know some of you reading are fighting a gag reflex as I say that, but it is. In fact there are some things about Disneyland I wish I could bring into the local church.

The first, is the fact that it is hard for people to be angry when you are at Disneyland. I know it can be done, I saw plenty of brothers and sisters screaming at each other, and plenty of Parents trying the “ok we are gonna just leave you “ and walk five steps away only to come back and grab johnny by the arm away screaming. (does the “we are leaving” thing ever work???). But as my wife and kids and I were walking past the bus drop off parking lot and the ticket gates, there was music playing, the sun was shining, you could see the top of space mountain and the Matterhorn, Grizzly peak and the Tower of Terror over in California adventure, I couldn’t NOT smile. neither could my wife and kids. In fact it was so obvious that it became a joke as we walked towards the entrance.

There is a huge difference between Joy and happiness. One is based on a situation the other surpasses situations and can even be experienced when you are sad or solemn. Disney’s happiness is definitely a situational fleeting experience ( just watch the taxi drivers on Harbor blvd. driving by the park when it closes.) But wow! there are few places where where there is that kind of feeling on such a large scale. I’m not sure I want the situational happiness in my local church, but boy it would sure be great so see people walking to the doors of the church with smiles on their face and expecting something. I was talking with a group of pastor’s a while ago about sermons that we gave that just pushed the edge a little too far for the congregation that was hearing it. Someone told the story of a Pastor (who at one time pastored the church I serve.. and now is a bishop BTW) who crossed the line with her congregation with a sermon titled “if Jesus is Lord why is everyone so pissed off?” I think I have wanted to preach that sermon. Those two places; the Disney ticket gate and the church front door, can seem like such a contrast sometimes.

The other thing I love about Disney is that it is such a diverse place, even though the magic kingdom is based in a pretty white bread story there were white, black, brown, yellow and red skinned people climbing on Dumbo’s back to spin around in circles with huge smiles on their face. There was a time in my daughter’s life when she was younger, when she equated any language that wasn’t english with spanish. So if you were speaking French, Dutch, Japanese or whatever the response you got from Adeline was “hola!” I can’t count the number of languages i heard in 4 days at Disneyland.

Part of that diversity also carried a sense of community. I know it sounds weird but I would be standing next to someone that I had hardly anything in common with, different language different culture but we had a sense of relationship because we were both experiencing the same event at the same time together. Often in the church we expect people to experience the “event” of worship, or faith in general, in the way that we do. Or worse yet the way we did some years ago. and if you don’t then the differences between us become large, we fall into cults of personalities, and in the worse case scenario we find ourselves saying “we” and “them”.

Those are just some off the cuff thoughts I’ve had, your milage may very.

Blessing of the back packs

Last week we had an event that I was pretty exciting (well, I thought it was exciting, I’m not convinced anyone else was, but I’m used to being by myself on stuff like this) We had a “blessing of the back packs” during our Sunday morning worship service. About halfway through the service, we had all our elementary school kids come forward and put their back packs up on the alter. We as a congregation gathered around them and laid hands on and pray for them (again not sure every one was too excited about the getting up and touching someone, Methodists are a bit too stoic for that stuff. We would rather watch someone lay hands on someone and pray from our seat, or have someone “stand- in” for us ;-). Next we had our Middle, High School and College students come forward and we did the same for them as well. Finally, all the teachers and school faculty and staff we have who attend come forward and we prayed for them. Now that the altar was covered with back packs, we asked for God’s blessings for the kids who are represented by all these backpacks, that He would guide their steps, bless them with the spirit of wisdom and keep them safe.

I thought it was great! Did I mention I was pretty excited about it?

I mentioned a while ago on this blog that a few friends and I have been talking about the state of our world and our neighborhoods. It seems like Jesus and the rest of scripture speaks to us about those problems that we face today, but for some reason we don’t hear them speak. We often hear someone speak about Jesus, or about scripture, but being 1, 2, or even 3 steps removed sometimes takes a bit of the “punch” out of the revolutionary words of Jesus in scripture. So as my friends and I have been talking we asked what are the biggest problems our neighborhoods face? (I mean really literally asked each other ... out loud... between fork fulls of chimichanga at lunch). Two things seemed to surface the more we talked about it. 1) safety and security especially for kids. 2) crushing debt and a system that allows someone to get into a cycle of debt that they can’t get out of.

I’m encouraging our congregation to intentionally address those problems in our community. The blessing of the backpacks is a start for us. Seeing kids in front of us - putting a hand on their shoulder and asking God to bless them and keep them safe, asking God to give wisdom to those teachers who are given our trust to take care and teach our kids is a small step towards making our neighborhood a safe place with God’s help.

I hope you have a great week friends, and if you have kids heading back to school, or you are heading back yourself as a student or staff person I pray for God’s blessings and safety upon you as you go!

Mark

40 Years and one week old...

Well, it has been a busy couple of weeks. Last Sunday was my 40th birthday and the congregation I serve threw a wonderful party for me. One of my parishioners, who is actually attending seminary to follow a call to ministry, cooked me some of his special BBQ ribs Wow! Great stuff. The whole congregation managed to keep it a secret from me, so I was totally surprised when we turned the corner and saw a sea of people on the front lawn of the house! Who knew my wife was such a good liar.. well maybe more of a selective truth teller. I think I got enough coffee shop gift cards to last me the rest of the year. In fact , as I write this I am having a Latte’ at Brewed Awakenings on one of my gift cards.

Then, on Tuesday the family and I got up at 4:30am to get to the airport by 5:30am to make a plane at 6:30am bound for Disneyland and Southern California. Friday was my son’s 11th birthday so it was kinda a birthday trip for the both of us, complete with a birthday lunch at the Rainforest Cafe. Saturday morning before our flight home, we spent the day at Hermosa Beach with my wife’s cousin Lisa. It was a blast playing in the waves with my kids, but we got Sunburned... I mean SUNBURNED.. as in Chernobyl - radioactive sunburned! My feet are barely able to fit in my shoes they are so swollen, and shifting the foot lever on my motorcycle is not nearly as fun as it usually is.

I was thinking on the plane ride home, about the whole Disneyland experience. As a wanna-be-sociologist the whole Disney package is pretty fascinating. I will try to write some of those reflections down here next week. I’m still a bit exhausted from spending 14 hours a day on my feel and asking “how long of a wait is this line?”

It’s good to be home - Tonight starts our annual VBS program. Wish us luck!

Mark

Catagories...

I have had a couple conversations these last few weeks with folks who have visited the congregation I serve on a Sunday morning for worship, that have reinforced for me the notion that most people equate church to a one hour block on Sunday mornings. That leads to a next assumption that worship style defines you as a church, both of which I think are wrong.

The particular congregation I serve has two services of worship on Sunday morning. The first service is more relaxed and casual. The music is typically more modern in style (I’m trying to avoid the word “contemporary” as hard as I can.) Kids make noise, I preach from a bar stool down in the seats rather than up on the platform. We sing together, we pray together, we hear scripture, we laugh together on occasion cry together as well. Our second service is more of a traditional Methodist service. I typically wear a robe and stole (for you non liturgical folks - a stole is a fancy long scarf usually in the color of whatever season of the church calendar we are in). We follow a pretty set liturgy, most of our music we sing originates out of the hymnal.

So... we had a very nice visitor who came to our more traditional service. On that particular Sunday it was about 90 degrees outside, so that means that inside the oven that is Orchards United Methodist Church it was approximately 375 degrees. I opted not to wear the robe. After worship my wife was talking with a woman who was very interested in us. “I saw you were wearing a modern watch (Thank you Target $7 clearance table) , and you announced that you were leading a book study on one of Brian McClaren’s books, but most of the people here were older... so I was thinking what is going on here” As we talked more she was very into categories. She defined herself in very clear categories and wanted to know what my categories were. (BTW My Myers Briggs letters are ESPN, or is it Briggs and Stratton I can never remember) I also discovered that she was very interested in the categories as they related to the “Emerging church” movement... ooops i mean “conversation” to which she made the comment that she and her husband had joined “the conversation”... I kinda wondered if they sent out a mailer to people to notify them of this fact.

I personally have found quite a bit of life and spiritual renewal for my self in the midst of the emerging church’s “conversation”. I personally have been attracted to and "pastored" in such a way that fostered compassionate, missional communities, and focused on Jesus as the center of our faith. The verse that has been tattooed on my heart (figuratively) is “Love the Lord your God... love your neighbor as yourself” Ok so there are my categories... as best as I can shoe horn myself into them.

So as we talked more about those things she said “ ya know you could really easily turn this congregation into an Emerging church...” and she listed off some things that we could change to our style of worship. I then realized that she was equating our time in worship with what we are as a church. In her process, if we follow this form, or change our categories to worship in an “Emerging” style we will be Emerging... maybe even emerged... Crap! Then what will we do? I’ll have to find a whole new category.

The way my congregation worships together, the style we are comfortable in during that first hour has a lot of similarities to the way church’s who label themselves as "Emerging" tend to worship together. But beyond that, beyond the doors of our sanctuary, out side the one hour block on Sunday, we are still learning what it means to love our neighbor, what it means to be part of a compassionate, generous community, what it means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. Regardless of the way we worship, the style of music we sing, the color of the table cloth and the scarf the pastor wears, if we never have lives that reflect a faith grounded in the love of God, made real in our communities and families then our categories are are just white washed sepulchres. (oooo i impressed myself there by tying this all together with a scripture reference!)

Have a great week friend... Love God and love everybody else!

Fireworks, Reunions and The Police

Hi friends!

Yes I am still alive, as some of you e-mailed me to find out. It has been a busy summer for me and I haven’t had time to sit down and put any thoughts up on the blog. I try not to just post boring meaningless things here on “mark’s mind” ( Most of you really don’t care that my 10 year old son is quickly gaining ground and is about to cross the threshold of being better than me at Wii tennis)

I have a little break in the pace of life at the moment, so hopefully next week I will be able to contribute a bit more.

As for now... here is the meaningless stuff (well to you... not to me :-) )


Our Annual Conference for the PNW Conference of the UMC was in Moscow this year. Idaho... not Russia... I spent some time in Moscow, ID many years ago in a former life... when I was a student at Washington State, 8 miles down the road in Pullman Wa. Idaho’s drinking age was 18 at the time, while Washington’s was 21.. hence the reason i spent so much time in Moscow. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I almost got into a fight while eating lunch . Well the last time I was actually in a fight was in Moscow, ID, in a bar when I was 18. I drove by it and got sentimental while i was at Annual Conference. I’m kidding... there are actually more memories of that time in my life that I would like to get rid of, than remember, and I’m not very sentimental about them... That the subject of another blog... moving on...

On the way back from Idaho I was able to stop in the Tri-Cities area of Wa. where I grew up and spend some time with my family there. It was great! I forgot how much i love the desert of Eastern Wa and the Columbia River running through the middle of it!


We again operated a huge fireworks tent as a fund raiser for the congregation I serve. Well, to be precise we operated 3 tents in a shopping experience called “Boom City”. Three tents, no waiting. unlimited variety... The problem was that with the economy the way it is not many people were in the market to buy things that you set on fire. We did about half the sales we have done in years past... Oh well...

We spent the 4th of July down in Southern Oregon with my wife’s family. Lots of good relaxing days in the In-law’s swimming pool. My wife’s 20th High School reunion was the same weekend, so we went to a dinner for that. I didn’t know anyone, but It was pretty fascinating to see how cliques reform, and people really don’t change all that much. It was pretty interesting to be an outsider looking in. Second only to the Tri-Cities, Southern Oregon is my favorite place to be.

Last Friday, Jennifer and I went to the Police concert at the Amphitheater in Clark County. Wow! What a great concert. The opening act was Elvis Costello. I was very disappointed with Elvis. The sound was terrible. I never understand why opening acts have the crappiest sound set up. I literally couldn’t understand a word he was saying and barely recognized most of the songs... “what's so funny bout what?... oh! Peace, Love and Understanding ... I think i recognize this...” BUT The Police were Awesome! For three 50+ year old guys they “brought it” as my daughter says. One of... if not THE best concerts I have been too. The place was packed and hearing 15,000 people chant “Yeeeoooo, Yeeooo, Oh, Oh” to Walking On The Moon with Sting was pretty amazing. Andrew Summers still plays the guitar incredibly and Stewart Copeland can hit a giant gong like few others!


In August we will be heading down to Disney Land for my son’s 11th birthday and my 40th Birthday. (Feel free to wear black arm bands to mourn the passing of my youth on August 3rd if you like)

So that's the update on all that is going on in Mark’s life. I hope your Summer’s are going equally as well!

Have a great week friends!

I thought I was a nice guy...

I think some people just generate strong emotions in people. I’m not sure if I’m one of those people or not but I generally like to think that i’m a mostly nice guy - at least after I have my latte’ in the morning.

I had two odd experiences this last week that challenged my thoughts about myself. First, last week while I was eating lunch at a local restaurant, sitting at my table quietly eating while I read a book a group of hard workin’ guys obviously construction workers sat at a table next to me. Now, I have framed houses and worked in lumber yards in the course of my life so I’m not a fragile flower when it comes to conversations at the work site. As I ate a beautiful young woman walked across the parking lot out side the window. Immediately the table of guys took notice... no surprise. A few comments of a sexual nature were made... not in good taste but like I said I’m no stranger to the work site banter. Then another was made more graphic and a third and a fourth and ... Finally I put down my fork and said to the group “hey guys have some class huh?”

Now in the world in which my mind lives the proper response from my rude restaurant mates would be “Oh I’m sorry...” or some other similar response. Unfortunately the world where my mind lives doesn’t exists... The actual response I received was “F*** you!” there were several other comments tossed back at me as well. At that point I know I should have just kept quiet but I responded back “What is this the 2nd grade playground?” One of them was in the process of getting up to get some more food and stopped at my table and responded “why don’t you just shut the F*** up (insert name here that wasn’t really at all close to Mark)” I said “I will if you will” After a long pause and a the "tough guy" stare, he left. I really thought I was going to have to throw down and get into a fight with three guys in a pizza restaurant at the salad bar. I wasn’t always a Pastor, I have been in a couple of fights but not since I was about 21... and I’m not 21 any more... I haven’t been 21 for a long time. It has been a while since I took a punch, or three or several... luckily it didn’t come to that but I really thought it was for a moment or two.

Second, It has finally been sunny and (kinda’) warm in the Portland/Vancouver area so I have been able to FINALLY get out and ride my motorcycle. Two days after my “enlightening” conversation at lunch, I was riding my motorcycle down the street to work. When I ride I am a pretty defensive rider. I have been hit by a city work truck and have had to dodge several other vehicles while riding in the past so I keep a sharp eye out. As I was rolling along. I noticed 2 Yippie dogs (I think that is an official AKC breed. I may be wrong) in an unfenced yard next to someone working in a garden. As I got closer one of the dog’s (Yippie #1) noticed me and began yipping. Soon Yippie #2 noticed and decided that I couldn’t hear his yipping adequately so he began to run towards the street with Yippie #1 close behind. The owner shouted at the dogs to come back neither paid any attention. I assumed that the dogs would stop at the side walk when they reached it, but to my surprise they did not. They both bolted past the side walk at full speed and into the opposite lane of traffic in their mission to destroy me. As they entered the street a large Buick coming the other direction slammed on the brakes and and SCREECHED to a halt about .33 inches away from Yippie #2. Both dogs stopped quickly and then aborted their mission to destroy the rider on the Ninja driving by and returned back to the yard safe and sound.

I hope that you all have had a more peaceful summer that doesn’t involve fisticuffs or dog bites!

An hour on Sunday morning??

From time to time I am asked to make presentations on the act or preaching and worship, usually as it relates to younger adults (Which i think is ironic since I am going to be celebrating my 40th birthday this August... black arm bands are optional as we bid farewell to my youth!) Recently i was asked to consult with a group as they formulated a couple seminars for people wanting to explore worship to a greater degree.

In thinking about worship there are several things we can consider. Some of those things sing incredibly important on the surface. In light of what worship is truly about they may not look as grand as they one did. Often we focus on an hour of our Sunday morning as “worship”. In that hour we concern ourselves with things like formats, style, what music we listen to, what version of scripture we will read from, how long we stand, how long we sit, as well as a host of other things. All those things have a practical importance. I can remember standing for 1 1/2 hours at a worship service at a Greek Orthodox Church in Ohio, praying for a opportunity to sit down. An elderly woman stood next to me like a rock reciting litanies unfazed by being on her feet for so long. I’m not convinced any of those things really get at the heart of what worship is.

I truly believe that worship is not merely confined to a one hour (or in the case of a certain Greek Orthodox Service... more than an hour) block on Sunday morning. I believe worship is something much larger. It is an attitude of thanksgiving, joy and honor we have for God that is expressed in various ways in our lives, well beyond Sunday mornings. In fact i don’t think that the grace we find in worship comes because we meet on a specific time at a specific place but that God chooses to meet us there, and in the various places our life journeys take us. Along those same lines, worship isn’t judged as “successful” because of the quality of the music played, the songs sung, the ability the congregation has to read beautifully and responsively from the Psalms, or how the service “flowed”. The test of true worship comes from the missional and life transforming activity that happens in the lives of the community which follows from worship.

In a life of worship we are constantly reminded of who God is and who we are. We are drawn into lives that are transformed by joy and the Spirit’s presence. Out of such worship filled lives we see, as scripture describes, “ rivers of living water “ that quench the thirst of a parched world.

I hope that as summer rolls around, no matter where you may find yourself on a Sunday morning, all of our lives will be an act of worship, and we are filled with gratitude joy and life as a result.

Two wheels of fun

Hi friends. Well I have been away, doing things other than contributing to this blog. I have been spending most of my spare time working on my motorcycle. We have had to spectacular weekends so I have been riding a lot. Well... riding and repairing and riding again.

A few weeks ago. I rode with a group of people up to a spot near mount saint helens. The ride was beautiful and a lot of run until my carburetors got clogged in a little town called Cougar (actually in the wood about 8 miles away from Cougar where there is no cell phone signal) Anyway after a nice 4 hour stint on a bench outside the one gas station in Cougar I had my friend Scott help me trailer the ol’ Ninja off the mountain. (Thanks Scott!)


After one full day off and several after work evenings of tearing into the fuel system and ignition system, and some advise and encouragement, when I was frustrated, by friends on the PNW Riders forum, I got her up and running like a champ.

So last weekend, I got everything all screwed back together and spent most of it riding. Friday I took off early from work and headed up the Columbia River Gorge. Saturday, I returned to Cougar and Mt St. Helens to redeem that ride. It was beautiful! Then Sunday night after a “stump the pastor” night ( I once a year meet with our church’s youth group and they can ask any question they want of me) I headed back up the Gorge with my friend Rich who has recently returned from Afghanistan.


Now it’s cold and rainy again, so I am back in the garage delrusting a new fuel tank and prepping it for paint and working on the exhaust waiting for another sunny weekend.

Have a great week friends!

Sharing a confused look...

Here is the "pastor's note" for my congregations newsletter this month:


I was watching cartoons with my daughter Adeline the other day and an old Tom & Jerry cartoon came on. This particular cartoon was created in 1947. If you are familiar with the plot of every Tom & Jerry cartoon, Tom is a cat that spends all his time trying to catch the mouse Jerry. Typically explosives, knives, various contraptions, and lots of raise bumps on cartoon heads are employed in before said mouse catching strategy.

In this particular cartoon there was a slight variation to the theme - Jerry had a baby mouse with him;Nibbles.(His name was changed to Tuffy later in the series as I found noted on several Tom & Jerry web pages) I don’t know if Nibbles is Jerry’s baby, or if he a nephew or what, i’m not as informed on the family structures of cartoon mice as I should be... Anyway, as we all know, cartoon baby mice wearing cloth diapers complete with safety pin the size of your leg, need to drink milk... as do cats... thus the problem. Jerry wanted the saucer of milk for Nibbles, and Tom wanted it for himself... Lit the hijinx begin. The Tom chased the mice all over the house trying every way possible to exterminate them. Anvils were dropped , sticks of dynamite were exploded, at one point Tom even had Nibbles at gunpoint. Tom fired the gun narrowly missing the Nibbles and blowing off all the fur from his own smoldering tail. Then in a plot twist Tom swings at the baby mouse with a spatula and smacks him on the behind. Nibbles’ eyes grow large and big alligator tears begin to flow as the baby begins to cry from being spanked. That's the last straw Jerry appears furious at someone spanking the child and proceeds to beat the day lights out of Tom with hammers, chairs and dishes. The cartoon ends with Tom bandaged from head to toe complete with crutches, handing over the saucer of milk to the baby mouse.

Adeline and I both turned and looked at each other with puzzled looks. Adeline said “OK that's just stupid... Jerry freaks out over a swat with a spatula, but doesn’t care that Tom was using bats and guns to try and shoot his baby!???” I was thinking the exact same thing. Now I don’t want to get into a long discussion of violence in cartoons. I grew up watching Wily Coyote purchase bomb dropping hot air balloons from Acme like many people my age. What I was struck by in watching Tom & Jerry was how different communities have become. 50 or 60 years ago it was totally acceptable to have characters point guns at each others heads as a comedy gag. The communities we live in are entirely different than they were a generation ago.

Our taste in Cartoon humor isn’t the only thing that has changed. The way we view our world, the things we value and don’t value, the attitude we have about ourselves our families, our faith and beliefs have all changed so much.

Two weeks ago I witnessed a similar exchange. One person talking with another about one aspect of his faith that was incredibly important to him. As I watched the interaction the young woman listening had the exact same puzzled look that Adeline had while watching Tom & Jerry. I could almost hear the voice in her head saying “But what about this part of my life, or this way I view others, and the world?” To her credit the young woman didn’t lash out and try to negate or nullify the other persons values and beliefs, as many of us do sometimes with out thinking, but I could tell that the faith the person was so devoted to didn’t ring true for her.

As our communities change I pray that we all realize that the timeless message of Jesus, offers hope to every generation. I pray we will never loose sight of a savior who meets us where we are, and interacts with us as his beloved children.

Have a great May friends and look out for Cats bearing dynamite

The question... 2.0

Last week I mentioned a “conversation” I had with three high school kids on a pier in Seattle, as the asked me the question - “what will happen when you die?” as part of an evangelism program. Friday night at a Bible study that meets at my house, one of the women who attends voiced guilt she felt about not “sharing her faith with people”. It wasn’t a hedged in comments of “my faith is personal ... between me and God” or any of the other excuses we often throw out when we feel guilty about not being more “Evanelistic”. Her concerns came from a place of not wanting to alienate her friends, by always pushing Jesus on them, or running into that attitude people have when the Christian faith is mentioned - the Christians hate gays, or don’t like people like me, or only want our money attitude.
Here is the ironic thing, I would find it unimaginable to know Natalie for more than an hour and not know that her faith in Jesus is a huge guiding factor in her life. But because she wasn’t being confrontational in her conversations with people about Jesus, or because she doesn’t have a check list of friends that she has asked “do you have a personal relationship with Jesus”, or worse yet asked the big what happens when you die question, she feels guilty.

I just started reading Brian McClaren’s book “Everything Must Change”. I purposefully have not picked it up until lately because, to be honest, I have been pretty disillusioned with the Church in the Western world. This last year I have become disgusted that the biggest issue for many of us in the church is “who is going to paint our church building” or “the piano player at church plays too slow” or any of another million things of no significance at all, while at the same time millions of people have died of Malaria in Africa, or a hundred kids walk by our building everyday on the way home from school to be abused and/or neglected. I didn’t want to pick it up because I was working on a pretty good mad as it was, and really didn’t want any more gunpowder for this keg that was ready to blow already. (Sorry counting to ten... breathing deeply.... serenity now...)

Anyway, I was talking with a couple friends this last week on this topic. As we sat around the table we asked what are the biggest problems our communities face? In an effort to make first steps, we didn’t want to tackle wars in the middle east , or dependance on fossil fuels, or other global concerns, but what does my neighbor struggle with on a daily basis. As a disciple of Jesus I believe scripture speaks to us about those things and as disciples we can do something to address them. In that question I found some sense of peace and some ease in my frustration. I decided that the fuse had gone out on my keg, so I’ll pick up Brian’s book. Low and behold in the first chapters of the book Brian lays out the premise of the book based on two questions 1)What are the biggest problems in the world? 2) what does Jesus have to say about these problems? CRAP! He wrote the book before I could! Dammit!

If you haven’t pickled up “Everything Must Change” I recommend it (although I am only about half way through it.) And If the titles scares you... It should... When Brian says everything must change, he means it. So do I!

So in asking our local question there were a few things that seemed to rise to the top of all of our discussions. 1) Safety for kids in our neighborhoods 2) Financial issues, more specifically debt and addiction to a consumeristic identity. Out of those discussions I have proposed a couple ideas to the members or Orchards United Methodist Church to address those problems our community faces, and there is some traction and excitement about them.

Wouldn’t it be great to be a community that is not known for convincing people they were headed to hell, but as Jesus says in John 13:35 “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Have a great week friends!

The question...

Hi friends,

I have been in Seattle for the last week. Part of the time on vacation with my beautiful wife and two above average children. The last part of the week I was interviewing candidates for ministry as a member of my Conference’s Board of Ordained Ministry.

The Vacation time was a blast! We spent some time at the Museum of Flight at Boeing Field . I have been a huge aircraft fan since I was little and have always loved Air Museums and the Boeing Field one is one of the best in the country. At first my wife and kids were kind of just going along to humor me, but I think everyone in the family said it was the highlight of the trip.

After the trip to the Museum of Flight we had a birthday dinner for my wife at the Rain Forest Cafe which was a lot of fun. Complete with giant cake and ice cream desert with sparklers! WhooooHooooo!

The second part of my week was spent talking with candidates for ministry about the written materials they have submitted to the Board. I walked away form those meetings very enthused about the quality of pastors we will have serving churches in The Pacific Northwest Conference in the next few years, and it gives me some hope that the progress I am many others in our church are making in steering this battle ship of a conference towards renewal and revitalization, could happen.

I had an experience on Thursday night after dinner. It was about 7:30pm or so and I had just completed a long day of interviews along with my colleagues. After dinner I drove down to the Marina at DesMoines Beach Park just to look at the water and pray and kinda’ collect myself. So while I was leaning over the rail three young high school aged people (a girl and two boys)approached me and asked “Sir would you be willing to answer some questions for a religious poll we are taking?” Ok, after the initial oddity of a high school girl calling me “Sir” wore off I said sure. They proceeded to ask me questions; Do you believe in God?... Do you believe God cares about people?... Then the tried and true question... If you died tonight... (Which by the way is probably a bad question to ask someone alone at 8pm at a marina. I wanted to answer “Why? You guys have a knife or gun in those hurley hoodies?” To tell you the truth, these three kids were so timid I think if I had shouted “BOO!” loud at them they would have all three crapped their pants and run for the hills)

As a pastor I admit I have a sadistic side. There were a few minutes where several scenarios played out in my head. I could act like the king of all sinners, and challenge them on every point of their argument, then ask where I could score some drugs... As tantalizing as that sounded, I opted not to do that. Then I thought I could play the miraculous convert. After they said two words I'd tell them a horrific story, but because they asked me what would happen when I died, I was a born again convert.... I opted out of that one too. When the poll asked if I belong to a church or place of worship, I confessed that I was a pastor, and they all sighed a little and relaxed. (It wrecked my opportunity to screw with their heads but oh well..) So anyway, when they finished their poll, and I gave them the good answer that my evangelical heritage drilled into my brain, about having a ticket to heaven if I die tonight, cause Jesus died for me, I actually got to talk to them a little.

I asked them how the poll had been going? Their reply was “not too good.” You could have knocked me over with NOT surprise. It was getting dark and I didn’t want to keep these three kids out on a dock, and I didn’t want to crush any fervor they had for their faith, but I can’t imagine anyone would really be too excited about talking with three kids, who were obviously scared out of their heads to talk to people about their faith, and especially using the “what will happen if you die?” angle. These kids were nice and I felt bad for them. It reminded me of the experiences I had as a youth with youth pastors who told me that I needed to go out and win arguments with people about sin and the afterlife. It made me sad. No concept of God caring about our lives now, No questions about transcendence or transformation... nothing for someone now. It was all about heaven and ..”someday”.

It reminded me of another experience I had in seminary. I was to write a paper after having interviewed three people regarding their decision process to become a Christian. So I asked three of the members of the little church my wife and I were attending in Central Kentucky at the time; Two long time members and pillars of the church, and one high school aged girl. When I asked them about how they came to make a decision to be a Christian, they all told me stories of someone who loved them and cared for them. Two of them said it was a grandmother who was most important in their decision. The other told the story of a member of the church who has since passed away but who was instrumental in their decision. When I asked all three what they thought was the most important thing someone needed in order to make a decision to follow Jesus - all three answered (In so many words) “You will go to hell if you don’t say the sinners prayer.” Even though that played little, if anything in their own decision to follow Jesus.

Friends I hope the faith that the world sees in us is not merely about someday. I hope that “hell” and “death” aren’t the first words out of our mouths when we talk about Jesus. I pray we love God with all our hearts and minds and souls, and love our neighbors as ourselves!

Have a great week friends