Singing the Magnificat in Powhatan

In my former pastorate in North Carolina, my family and I lived in a parsonage.  For those who are new to church, a parsonage is a house owned by a church in which they allow (or insist) their minister and his or her family to live at no charge while the pastor serves in that congregation.  Most congregations talk about their parsonage as a “perk” to being their pastor, and the fair rental value of the parsonage is often included in the pastor’s compensation package.  The parsonage that my family and I lived in for five years was a house located less than 100 feet from the church building, and it was built in the 1930’s to be that church’s parsonage.  It was a large house, nearly 3,500 square feet, and for my family it was probably the largest house we will ever live in.

            The neighborhood that surrounded the church was what could be termed “transitional.”  On the street in front of the church and parsonage lived several church members who had purchased older homes and restored them to beautiful condition.  This was Church Street, and it was a beautiful picture of small town America with tree lined streets with sidewalks and perfectly manicured lawns.  Then there was the street behind the church and parsonage.  On the block that backed up to the parsonage was a row of rental houses that many would describe as being owned by a “slum lord.”  The houses were old and drafty, and were rented to multiple people within the same year because the routine was for people to quickly fall behind in their rent and then be evicted.

            I knew many of the people who occupied these houses as some of them would regularly come asking for assistance.  Some of them I liked and I had a relationship with, others were scarier individuals who would come and bother my family at the most inopportune times.  It was not uncommon for someone to show up about dinner time and we would normally make them a plate of whatever we were having for dinner.  Sometimes people would come early in the morning, and every once in a while they would come late at night.  This was a part of life in that parsonage.

            This has not been a part of my life for quite a few years.  I live in a place where this never happens, and I am grateful.  The peace and quiet that my family and I have at our home was new to us when we moved to Powhatan, and I value our home because it is our place of sanctuary, a place that I can step away from the needs and demands of ministry and simply be relaxed as husband and dad.  My kids are safe, no hungry people wait outside of our front door, and we have never had to share our dinner with a hungry person.  I love the peace, quiet, seclusion, and privacy of our home.

            I understand what draws people to Powhatan, and I would imagine that escaping the uncomfortable encounters much like I experienced is a part of it.  We like our solitude, our quiet, and our privacy.  And at times I worry that the blessing of my home in our wonderful community numbs me to the reality of need in our world.  I worry that I forget about the human needs of our world, and some days I also miss the blessing of meeting those needs.

            In the Magnificat, Mary sings a song about the child in her womb setting the world right.  She sings about the lowly being lifted up and the hungry being filled.  She sings about a world that will be as God intended the world to be, a world of justice and equity and peace.  Mary’s singing is so compelling that it invites God’s people into God’s work, not just singing but working to make God’s vision a reality.

            Very often it is hard for me to see the needy people in Powhatan.  The blessings of our wonderful home carry subtle risks.  We risk blindness to many needs, and we risk missing the blessing of service.  We all know that there are many needs in our community, needs that are often less visible than in other places.  Let us pray with Mary for a restored world and let us pray that our eyes will be open to see the hurt and hunger that exists around the edges of the good place we all call home.

Being Quiet in a World that Won’t Stop Talking

Zechariah was doing his job, he goes into the Temple, the Holy of Holies, and he gets a message from an angel.  The angel tells this old man that his old wife will have a baby.  Zechariah doesn’t understand how this will be, and he tells the angel as much.  In return the angel tells Zechariah that he will be mute, he will lose the ability to speak, until the child is born.  We read this story and understand Zechariah’s muteness as a punishment, but I wonder.

Sometimes it feels as if we live in a world that is addicted to talking.  In her book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking, Susan Cain describes how we constantly are bombarded with words and how it often feels as if those who have nothing (or little) to say are viewed as less than:  less valuable, less powerful, less insightful, less intelligent, and at least less interesting.  In a world that won’t stop talking, having something valuable to say is no longer the priority, for far after the valuable has been said the talking doesn’t even slow down.  We want to always have the first word, the last word, and always chime in on every topic and every conversation.  We just can’t stop talking.

I often feel as if this is even amplified in the Church.  American Christianity has manufactured a culture of quick impromptu prayers, testimonies, and sermons.  There is often perceived value only in the “heart-led impromptu” words, where passion is valued more than substance.  And those who can do this at the drop of a hat with the best “stained glass language” are viewed as a cut above the rest of us, especially a cut above those who prefer to be silent or those for whom words don’t come easily.  This fits perfectly into a world that can’t stop talking.

There are many ways to move through the Advent and Christmas seasons.  Singing is an excellent way to journey through this important time, there is no shortage of music the Church has embraced through the last 2,000 years that nourishes faithful people.  Another way is through reading.  There are wonderful books the deepen our understanding of the Advent and birth of Christ.  There are also parties, and lights, and celebrations.  All of these bring joy and meaning.  But this year I’m wondering about taking a cue from Zechariah, and understanding that a way to embrace this story can simply be to be silent.

Zechariah’s song is called the Benedictus.  It is recorded in Luke 1:68-79, and we will read it this Sunday in worship.  It is important, it is prophetic, and it is meaningful.  Zechariah is often remembered because of his song.  But over the past days I have been thinking not so much about his song, but about his silence.  This year, I wonder if I need to find more things to say, or if I need to move through this season with more silence.  Maybe I need to give myself and those around me permission to stop the deluge of words, and just quietly take in what is happening.

So now I, one who makes up a great deal of my vocational life by TALKING, and has contributed to this deluge of words by telling you the importance of being silent, I leave you with the question: does this sound like something that is right for your soul this year too? If so, join me on this path for this season.

A Thanksgiving Memory from Maryvel Firda

This week Maryvel Firda is a special “guest contributor” for the May Memorial blog/newsletter. Maryvel is a deacon at May Memorial Baptist Church and teaches English at Powhatan High School.

One Thanksgiving, maybe 1979, we had Daddy’s aunts out here from Richmond.  Nannie, the oldest, didn’t come– she was a shut-in, and I remember imagining that meant she couldn’t leave her apartment under any circumstances, for mysterious reasons I couldn’t understand.  She wasn’t that much older than Sister, who was her roommate.  Sister’s real name was Margaret, but she was also a twin with the only brother, Thomas.  Even all those years after “Brother” had died, Sister always remained Sister. She was funny, and she laughed at my jokes, and she would play games with me. (Mom wouldn’t let me ask any of them to play “Old Maid,” one of my favorites, because it might hurt their feelings.)  They liked games where you didn’t have to move around, like “Who’s Got the Button,” and in case you’ve never played that whirlwind of excitement, here’s what you do.  Gather as many beloved old ladies into a circle in comfortable seats as you can, and have them cup their hands as if to receive something.  Then you take a button that you’ve obtained from one of them (they all have good-sized bags of buttons in their sewing boxes; they save every button from all their worn-out and discarded dresses in the certain knowledge that they will be needed someday). And then you, preferably a little girl around 6-7 years old, will go around the room with the button in your own cupped hands, pretending to give it to each, but really, of course, secretly bestowing it upon only one.  And then everyone has to guess who got it.  And forty or fifty years later you will tear up remembering how warm and soft and delicate those waiting hands were.

Two other aunts, Evie and Lou, lived right across the street.  Evie was tiny– at seven I was already taller than she was!  She was widowed, with no children, despite her and my Uncle Bill having wanted them so badly.  That was one of my earliest lessons in heartbreak: people don’t always get what they want, even if they really deserve it.  Of all the aunts, she was the one who adored me the most, so of course she was my favorite. (She always got the button.) She would keep “ging’ale” on hand for me in the icebox, and her kitchen table was set all the time, with the plates and glasses turned upside down. I got to spend the night with her sometimes, and I loved to sit on the little window seat in her bedroom and look out over the city lit up for the night, so different from Powhatan.  It was terribly romantic and surely the beginning of my yearning for city life.  Lou could play the piano.  All the aunts could play the piano– Nannie taught me to play “Chopsticks” on the piano in her and Sister’s apartment– but Lou could play the piano. She could light that thing up.  I hadn’t heard playing like that in real life again until Sandra came to us.

The Thanksgiving that the aunts came out to dinner was extra special, because we so rarely had guests.  Daddy and I went to pick them up in the morning, and I was pretty convinced that he could get Nannie out of that apartment if he really wanted to– surely he could just carry her out– but whatever spell that kept her inside held fast. (We made sure that she had a nice dinner and sent plenty of leftovers home with Sister.)   Mom had spent the day before polishing her wedding silver and smoothing her mother’s hand-tatted lace tablecloth over and over (and over and over until I honestly thought she had lost her mind.  I had no idea at the time about the amount of pressure that is brought to bear by having three of your husband’s aunts to Thanksgiving dinner.)  I was amazed to learn that these aunts used to live in Powhatan, right next to the courthouse, where the Rescue Squad was.  (It’s the Village Park now.)  It was hard to imagine them, sixty years earlier, growing up just a block from where I was growing up, going to church where I went to church, where their daddy was the preacher.

And now sixty years earlier has become over a hundred years earlier, and I’m thankful for these happy memories, for the lives of these wonderful women of my family, who, as saints of May Memorial, are your family too.  I am thankful for all of you.  Happy Thanksgiving.

An Ending to the Year

Liturgically speaking, we are at the end of the year.  Last year at the beginning of December the Church starting telling a story that began in Advent about the Israelites waiting for a hoped-for Messiah.  We celebrated that Messiah’s coming at Christmas, we told of his light shining to all nations, and the Magi coming to worship and adore him.  We continued the story by telling of his baptism and the beginning of his public ministry.  We then entered the season of Lent and told of Christ’s journey toward the cross, and then in Holy Week we lamented the crucifixion and his burial.  Easter was a joyful day on which we celebrated the glorious resurrection and for weeks we proclaimed the stories of Christ’s post-resurrection appearances to his followers.  Jesus then ascended to heaven and left the disciples wondering what would happen next.  Then came Pentecost, that Jewish festival on which the Holy Spirit blew through the house where the frightened disciples were gathered and turned that timid band of followers into a Church that would change the world.  We have continued to tell this story of Jesus, following Mark’s gospel this year, and this coming Sunday is the end of the story.  We are adjusting this calendar a little at May Memorial this year.  We are saving the space of one Sunday, November 24, to focus on Thanksgiving and all of God’s blessings to us.

            But the following Sunday, Sunday, December 1, we begin telling this story again.  This story will begin and follow the same series of events as it has for centuries, and yet it is new each time it is told.  Who grows tired of hearing the prophesies of Isaiah who proclaims that one day the messiah will come and his kingdom will have no end?  Who tires of hearing about a kingdom of peace in which a wolf will lie with a lamb and the bear will eat straw like an ox, and even a child will stick his hand in an adder’s den and not be harmed?  The stories of the birth and life and resurrection of Christ are stories that continue to form and make us into faithful disciples, and to hear them year after year engrains in us the true story of God that tells the really real about the world.

            To dwell in this story year after year impresses upon us a different sense of time than our culture dwells in.  There are two Greek words for time in the New Testament, chronos and kairos.  Chronos time is the linear idea of time that we normally live in.  Kairos time is more cyclical and carries with it the idea of a “right” time.  When we begin to dwell in the story that the church tells year after year we understand that kairos time is God’s time, not a beginning and an ending, but a movement through important events that happen again and again when it is right.

            I love fresh starts, and I love beginning to tell a good story.  The story we start telling in a few days is the best story, it is the greatest story ever told.  This year I hope to immerse myself in the story even more, to know it, love it, and be transformed by it.

Tell me the old, old story, even though I know it well.  May it become new again each time I hear it, and may I become new in its hearing.

Election Eve and the Kingdom of Jesus

Beverley and I have already talked about what we are going to do tomorrow night as the election results (hopefully?) come in.  We are going to watch movies.  Here’s our list: The Big Lebowski, Sideways, and Waiting for Guffman.  By the time we have watched those three, we think, or maybe hope, what we have known as the 2024 election season will be at the end.  We don’t have cable or satellite, so no constant news coverage for us.  We have been like most people over the last year of election and political mania: surprised, disappointed, frustrated, sad, angry, shocked, and desperate.  For me personally, the things I haven’t felt from this election season are peace, hope, joy, or promise.

Of all the days to flip back through Resident Aliens, today is the day.  It was published in 1989, and it is just as pertinent now as it was then.  If this provocative work by William Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas is anything, it is a reminder that Christians belong to another kingdom.  This kingdom to which we belong is not of this world or any government, politic, or system this world has ever or can ever produce.  We are, in fact, resident aliens, living in a strange place as a colony of people who cannot make any sense of what we see around us.  What does make sense to us is the kingdom of Jesus, a kingdom that is shaped by Jesus’ life and transformative saving work.

I don’t know if I have ever felt so much like a “resident alien” living in an unrecognizable culture as I have over the past few years. I am confused by so many things.

A couple of weeks ago I heard a new song by The Porter’s Gate.  The Porter’s Gate is an ecumenical group of artists and theologians, and often their music is featured on the daily audio devotional Pray As You Go.  The song is titled The Kingdom of Jesus, and it has been a holy corrective to the dimness this election season has brought to my soul.  I want you to listen to the song, and as you do, notice the lyrics.  May these words (and the beautiful singing of them) be a little light in your soul these days.

Remember, whatever happens tomorrow, we don’t belong to this culture.  We follow a different leader, and we live by a different ethic.  On many days that sounds so challenging, but this week it is about the best news we can hear.

Click here to listen to The Kingdom of Jesus.

v. 1: To what shall we compare the Kingdom of Jesus if not a seed?

It's small, it's sewn, it's tended and grown and it's sturdying you and me

Its branches never break and its fruit never withers

Chorus: His Kingdom is not of this world or of any kingdom whose ruler's face is on a penny

He comes to make all things bright and put a new wine in us

He's chosen the small things to outlast the great

The meek and the merciful to shine through the hate

Though it seems some days that Hell and its gates are prevailing

Oh say can you see the kingdom within us is the Kingdom of Jesus?

v. 2: To what shall we compare the spirit of the hour if not a sword?

It frees us, unites us, it slaves and divides us and violence, help us Lord

Chorus: Oh His Kingdom is not one of slander or rage

but one that is ruled by the Lamb who was slain

And is worthy of wisdom and honor and glory and strength

No pain, no division, no public disgrace will compare with seeing the smile on His face as He welcomes the poor as children with places at the table

Not a death, nor threat, nor power can ever separate us

from the love of God forever in Christ Jesus

Everything shall pass away but not the Word that's within us,

no, it's the Kingdom of Jesus

The Gulag Archipelago and All Saints’ Day

In volume 1 of The Gulag Archipelago, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn tells story after story of Russian citizens who were arrested under false pretenses and who suffered brutal interrogations and cruel sentences at the hands of the Stalinist regime of the Communist Soviet Union.  By some estimates as many as 15 million Russian citizens were arrested and taken from their homes and families in the middle of the night and never seen again.  Families lost fathers, grandfathers, mothers, grandmothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters.  Some lost their lives, and others disappeared into the vast system of Russian prisons and work camps.

            During these years families in Russia set aside a day when they would pull out photographs of their family members who had been taken from them.  Whole communities would gather and put their pictures on the table so they could pray for those who were lost and keep their memory alive.  It was a day of remembrance in the midst of the cruel reality of life in an oppressive place.

            This Sunday at May Memorial we will remember our Christian sisters and brothers who have died and entered the Church Triumphant.  In a symbolic way we will place on the table those who have finished their race on earth and are have now entered their rest and reward.  We do not do this to offer prayers on their behalf, for they are already in the hands of God.  We do this to thank God for their lives, their testimonies, and how they impacted us in our lives of faith.  It is appropriate as Christians that we do this in God’s presence. 

            We also remember that the veil that separates Heaven and earth is very thin when we come together for worship, especially at the Lord’s Table.  We know that our loved ones have not simply ceased to be, but they continue to live in God’s presence.  We look forward to the time that we will all gather in God’s presence in a real way around God’s table.

            Don’t miss worship this Sunday, it will be a moving service in which we remember “whether we live for die, we belong to the Lord, who is Lord both of the living and the dead.” 

Does May Memorial Make Your Life Better?

Philip Jenkins is a scholar and prolific writer who has a regular piece in the Christian Century.  I first was introduced to Jenkins years ago when I read his Jesus Wars that explains how our current Christian belief and doctrine did not come into being through a peaceful and spiritual process but through violence, war, and politics.  Jenkins seems to have no end to his scholarly scope, and I always find his insight, especially in regard to global Christianity, informative.

Last month he described a study that is being done to answer this question: does religion promote human flourishing?  Aside from the doctrinal and liturgical truthfulness of this faith of ours which is rooted in the death and resurrection of Jesus, does religion simply make life better?  Since reading his description of this study, I have been wondering, does May Memorial cause human “flourishing” for those who are a part of our church family?  Does it promote a good life?  As he states, many things do promote flourishing.  Jenkins names civil peace, good government, justice, the arts.  But what about church?  Religion?  What interests me is considering whether May Memorial causes flourishing for our members and our community?  When a person attends our programs, activities, and even worship, do they leave having a greater sense of peace and fulfillment, or do they leave frustrated, confused, and ill at ease?

If we answer honestly, May Memorial, and all churches, have things in our culture that does not promote flourishing, and that cause frustration.  Any one of us who spends much time around the church understands that.  But at the same time, I think there is much that causes flourishing, that makes life better.  I’ve formed two lists in my mind, one labeled “flourishing acts” and the other “frustrating acts” for May Memorial, and I will share a few of each with you.

First, the positive, what causes people to flourish:

1. Singing together (congregational, choir, small ensembles)

2. Wednesday night meals and the community they promote

3. Sunday School

4. Book Club

5. Being still and quite while listening to someone else sing/play an instrument

6. Senior Adult Trips

7. Camps and Retreats

8. Service/Mission Projects (we have a lot of these…Funeral Reception Meal volunteers, Food Pantry, Just Kids, etc.)

9. Soul Food and Kingdom Kids

10. Welcoming our neighbors to community building events (Picnic, Fall Festival, Scottville Friends, etc.)

11. Practicing Hospitality from 8:30 a.m. until 2:00 p.m. Monday—Thursday.  You would be surprised how many people stop by the church office just to check in/talk to a friendly and caring person.  Many times this is the Administrative Assistant, but could be other church staff.

12. Civil, open discourse about important issues

Second, the negative, what chips away at flourishing:

1. Senseless committee meetings, especially meetings that could have been an email, OR meetings that should last under an hour but last much longer

2. The amount of energy (money, time) consumed by the need to maintain buildings

3. Nitpicking/Complaining (this does not include criticism that makes us better)

4. Focusing energy on things that are not important

5. Allowing partisan politics or “culture war” issues to impact our Christian bond. Political “jabs,” “insults,” or anything that implies that someone who disagrees with “me” is less than or not welcome.

Neither one of my lists is exhaustive.  If I kept a list through an entire year I am sure that I could add to both.  But, in my mind, there is far more at May Memorial that promotes flourishing than takes away from it.  I see how lives are better because of participating at May Memorial, and I’m grateful for all of those good things.

A Story in Defense of Marriage

John the Evangelist doesn’t say that Jesus danced at the wedding feast at Cana, but if Jesus had been at the wedding I officiated that Friday night years ago, I’m fairly confident he would have found his way to the dance floor.  Clarke’s Old Time Music Center was a bluegrass music venue/dance hall nestled in the Shenandoah Valley just south of Waynesboro in the community of Raphine, and it is where two music lovers met on a Friday night many years ago.   It was in this unique place that was called the sawmill by those who were familiar with it that a bluegrass band played each Friday night to a couple of hundred locals who were transported to another time by the acoustic instruments and songs that grew out of the mountains of the Southeastern United States.

Martha and Lester met at the Sawmill, so it was their desire to have their wedding in that same place.  I was told that it would be unlike any other wedding I had ever done, and the couple were right.  There was no definite time that the wedding was to take place, it would probably start around 8:30, but that depended on when the band would take their break.  Other than a granddaughter who served as a flower girl, there were no attendants.  There was no rehearsal, no rehearsal dinner, and no posed photographs prior to the ceremony.  Without a formal reception, rented tuxes, a bridal gown, bridesmaid’s dresses, and a rehearsal dinner, the budget was small compared to nearly all other weddings I have ever officiated.  The focus of this wedding was not the ceremony but the relationship, not pomp and formality but the importance of being surrounded by friends and community as two people made a solemn promise before God to one another. 

In a culture in which many couples are focused more on the details of the ceremony (or the party after the ceremony) than the marriage, this wedding was a refreshing experience.  Often it feels like the minister has one job on the wedding day: don’t do anything to distract from image of a perfect wedding as pictured in magazines and social media posts.  It often feels like a minister is simply rented for a service, just like a caterer or photographer, a necessary player in a pageant that has more to do with fantasy than a life-long commitment.  In a culture in which many Christians make angry accusations about people who are going to “destroy the biblical definition of marriage,” that wedding on that Friday night years ago was a living example of how a broken practice and undesirable expectations may begin to be corrected.

Nearly everyone danced that night.  The bride and the groom danced.  Young children danced.  Sr. adults danced.  Even the preacher danced.  I must admit that I was surprised when I was approached by a lady who offered me a strong but tacit invitation to step onto the dance floor.  As we danced she was shocked to learn that I was the pastor and I was shocked to learn that she was 87, but that didn’t stop our two-step to that bluegrass band.  Dancing with the Stars it was not, but when a person finds someone they can share their life with, decide that the marriage is more important than the ceremony, and make their vows before God surrounded by close friends in and old sawmill in the Shenandoah Valley, I don’t know anything to do but dance.

The Value of Staying

My heart broke a couple of weeks ago for a group of people that I care deeply about.  From a distance, I learned that a congregation in NC that has meant a lot to me had lost their pastor.  It makes me sad, because (counting interims) this was the fourth pastor to come and leave this congregation since I resigned in 2011 after serving ten years before coming to Powhatan.  I’m sad for that congregation, because they desire deeply a pastor who will come and stay for a long time.

I’m sad for congregations who can’t keep a pastor very long, and I’m also sad for pastors who don’t see the value or have the opportunity of staying in one place longer than the 3.5 year national average.  This average of pastor’s tenure in one place varies by different studies, but the longest number I’ve read recently is around 6 years.

I understand that pastors leave congregations for different reasons, including conflict, decline, too low pay, etc.  There are many good, sincere, and healthy reasons to move even when there are no difficulties in a current place of call. And there are not many pastors who serve one single congregation through their entire vocational life. All of these are understandable. There are also some pastors who, unfortunately, see their “career” as a series of steps, each one taking them to the next “biggest steeple” with the perceived status that accompanies it.  This bothers me.

My first Sunday at May Memorial was September 11, 2011, which means I have finished thirteen years as the pastor of this wonderful congregation.  When we came, it was said in a light-hearted way that “all of your kids better graduate from Powhatan High School,” meaning that the church wanted someone who would stay for a longer tenure.  There have been some difficult days when some (including myself) would have wanted my tenure to not last any longer at May Memorial, but thirteen years in I am still grateful for coming to May Memorial and I am grateful that I have stayed.  In staying, I have learned things that a 3.5 year tenure would have never taught me.  Here’s a few:

First, it takes a long time to build trust.  The former head of Lifeway, Thom Rainer, says that “acceptance, trust, and stability” happens in a pastor’s tenure between years 4 and 7.  It takes a while.  And when pastors move every 3.5 to 6 years, that level of trust never comes.

Second, I know from experience that there is a different level of love and affection a pastor has for a congregation after a longer tenure.  I love our church family more now than I did at year four.  I know you, I know your stories, I remember the things that have brought you joy and I remember your hardest days.  I remember when you children got married, and I remember your spouses who are now with the Lord.  And this long relationship has given me a great love and affection for you.  This, to me, is the greatest blessing that comes from staying.

Third, as a dad, I wanted my children to not experience several moves throughout their school career.  Beverley and I agreed with the statement, “we expect your kids to graduate from Powhatan High School.”  This has value for pastor’s children, and a pastor who moves every 3.5 years takes this away from his children.

Fourth, I understand that churches have ups and downs, but if we are faithful, we will remain fruitful.  May Memorial is a faithful church, made up of mature Christians, and while we may not see a year of one hundred new members, we do see that our church is fruitful.

Fifth, I understand the importance of stability in a church.  There are some people who like to walk into worship and be surprised at every turn.  Everything be new and different from the week before.  But I also know that the stability of faithful and traditional worship brings comfort, reassurance, hope, and peace.  For many of us, God speaks through familiar rhythms and patterns that are time-tested and faithful to good traditions.  (But I do like the unexpected from time to time). Longevity, when it is healthy, creates a sense of stability in any organization, and churches are no exception.

One of the questions I have been asking myself and others over the past six months is how does a pastor sustain energy after many years in one place?  I ask this question because I don’t want to be one of the pastors who stay twenty years but had their last good idea at year eight.  I’ve gotten some good insight when I’ve asked that question, but for some reason that I can’t exactly identify, I feel now as if I have as much (or more) energy, love, hope, and affection for May Memorial as I ever have.  I am excited about what God is doing at May Memorial, and I am glad that it has been the place that I have spent the largest part of my vocational life.  I wouldn’t trade it for anything or any other place.  Powhatan has been a great place for Beverley and me to raise our girls, and I am grateful that thirteen years ago this became our home.

One of my best friends back in North Carolina would say it often, “this world is full of good starters, what is needed is good finishers.”  He was a recovering alcoholic and addict, had been clean and sober for many years, and when he made that statement he most often was talking about how many people start the path to recovery but fail to find lasting, long-term sobriety.  He intended to be not just a good starter, but a good finisher as well.  In my life as a husband, father, and pastor, I want to be a good finisher.  I’ve learned there is great value to not giving up, even when there is a tough day, or week, or month.  Longevity holds many blessings, and not walking away from commitments is good and honorable.  I’m grateful for these thirteen years, what I’ve learned, and who I have been blessed to spend them with.

Clapping, Applause, and the Audience of Worship

First things first: I think when members of a congregation offer applause after a piece of music, whether vocal, choral, or instrumental, members of the congregation are demonstrating kindness and encouragement to that church’s musicians.  Applause, in our culture, is a way to say “thank you,” to express gratitude, and it is done out of the goodness of kind, Christian, hearts.  I do not judge individuals or congregations who regularly offer applause, as I have done it myself, many times.  I am personally not bothered by it, and it is not a big deal that keeps me awake at night.  But, having clear thinking as my goal, I want to offer a few things for consideration.

Preliminary number two, I want to be clear about how I use the terms.  Applause is something that is done after the presentation of a piece of music to express gratitude or approval of what has just happened.  It conveys “good job” or “thank you.”  Clapping happens during a piece of music.  It is a way for a worshiper to be involved with the piece of music that is being presented either by a choir, soloist, or a congregational song.  Clapping can be an expression of worship.

Now, with the preliminaries out of the way, here’s what I want to say.  Applause is not necessary, or even ideal, in worship.  Here’s the main reason I say that: you (the congregation) are not the audience.  It is an unfortunate mindset that causes us to see the people “on the stage” as the performers, and those sitting in the congregation as “the audience.”  “Who then,” you may ask, “is the audience in worship?”  That is a great question, and in Christian worship God is the audience.  God is the one to whom we sing, speak, and pray.  Everyone sitting in the sanctuary, from the back row of the balcony to the back row of the choir loft, are “performers,” and our one-member audience is God who has created, redeemed, and is transforming us into Christ’s image and reconciling all things to Himself.  This is why I do not refer to the place where our pulpit sits as “the stage.”  To me it is a “platform,” and my more sophisticated friends even call it a dais, but it is not a stage.  The “stage,” if you will, is the entire sanctuary, and God is watching and hearing our praises as he is the audience.  So, this means, that the choir is not singing for you.  They’re singing for God.  Voices of Unity, not singing for you.  Sandra, not playing for you.  All for God.  You are not the audience, God is.  Audiences offer applause.  You are not the audience on Sunday mornings.

If you are not the audience it also means that it is okay if music is done in worship you don’t like.  Why?  Because it is not being sung (or played) for you.  It is for our audience, God.

Here’s some other reasons why applause is not necessary, or even ideal.

Once applause starts in churches, how do we know when to stop?  If we offer applause for the choir will next week’s soloist feel “less valued” if that same applause is not offered?  And, by withholding applause from one musician’s piece after offering it to another, is that a way of tacitly saying “yours wasn’t as good as the other?”  Put plainly, is “no applause” a kind of “booing” when it has so freely been offered to someone else?  When a congregation that freely offers applause doesn’t, is that a way to say to a musician “go work a little harder this week, and next week you may get our applause?”

Also, why are we so selective in applauding?  Can we applaud for the deacon when they pray an awesome offertory prayer?  Can we applaud for the children who do an amazing job taking up the three cents a meal offering?  Are we slighting them by not applauding when they make their contribution to worship?  Why don’t we applaud for the high schooler who shows up EVERY week to run the sound system?  And what about the dozens of small, selfless acts that are done each week at May Memorial without any applause?  The guy who sweeps the steps each Sunday morning?  The Sunday School teacher who spends time each week studying for the lesson she is to teach?  The ushers who give a “first time visitor bag” to a newcomer?  Everyone is playing an important part, and “one member of the body is as important as the other (using Paul’s image),” so why only applaud for a few?

A better way…and I know this makes some uncomfortable…is to give a good, hearty, Amen!  Amen carries the idea of “so be it, this is firm, this is reliable, this is good, this is reliable.”  And another option, is to do nothing at all.  This happens sometimes, and often when a piece of music has been most moving, there is a stillness, a silence, that falls across the room.  This happened weeks ago when a young man was our guest soloist in worship, and the piece of music and his singing of it was such that no one wanted to interrupt the moment, and we allowed it to speak to us even as it passed.  These are holy moments, when we overhear a person (or group of people) singing to God in such a way that it leaves us still.  It is as our organist played Sunday for his prelude, “when in our music God is glorified…”. (click here to hear this wonderful hymn sung)

When in our music God is glorified,

and adoration leaves no room for pride,

it is as though the whole creation cried:

Alleluia!

How oft, in making music, we have found

a new dimension in the world of sound,

as worship moved us to a more profound

Alleluia!

So has the church, in liturgy and song,

in faith and love, through centuries of wrong,

borne witness to the truth in ev'ry tongue:

Alleluia!

And did not Jesus sing a psalm that night

when utmost evil strove against the light?

Then let us sing, for whom he won the fight:

Alleluia!

Let ev'ry instrument be tuned for praise;

let all rejoice who have a voice to raise;

and may God give us faith to sing always:

Alleluia!

(Fred Pratt Green)

A Most Holy Birthday Party for a Most Distinguished Christian Gentleman

Last week at the meeting for the Coalition of Powhatan Churches we had a “surprise” birthday party for one of our most distinguished members, Mr. Winfred Taylor.  Mr. Taylor, a long-time Powhatan resident and Hollywood Baptist Deacon, has given of himself for many years to demonstrate the love of Christ to the residents of our county.  Mr. Taylor recently turned ninety-four years old, and the leaders of the Coalition wanted to honor him for his birthday.

There was the normal (delicious) birthday party spread of sweet and salty snacks that we shared, but it was what came after the refreshments that was most nourishing for me.  Patsy Goodwyn, the founder and leader of the COPC, asked Mr. Taylor if he had any memories of working with the coalition that he would like to share.  He didn’t really give a speech, it was more of a conversation of the Coalition “old-timers” consisting of many stories that all began with “do you remember when we…” statements and ended with example after example of how the members of the Coalition helped someone who was in great need.

“Do you remember when we” all went to that woman’s house, that woman with ALL of those cats, and cleaned up for her?  She didn’t have a bathroom inside of her house.  When they walked in it was too dark to see her or anything about her house, but as their eyes adjusted to the dimness they saw that she had been living in conditions that were far less than ideal.  They cleaned her house, much needed items were donated, and they cared for her in a demonstration of Christ’s love.  And, in the end, that woman professed faith and became a follower of Jesus.

Someone continued…“I remember when Winfred drove that man to all of his doctor’s appointments.” Another commented…“I remember when Winfred drove that man to dialysis three times a week in Amelia…”. Then “I remember when Winfred and Ruby Leonard did all the work at the food pantry, and then when Winfred did it all himself…”. Story after story of Powhatan residents helping their neighbors when they were facing the most difficult circumstances.

As I write this, I understand that if you weren’t there, this conversation could sound a little braggadocios or self-congratulatory.  But it wasn’t.  It was very humble, it was drenched in thanksgiving that God had allowed them to serve the residents of our county who were in need.

I was blessed to hear those stories.  I was blessed to hear the history of good work in our community.  I was blessed to be part of that gathering and to simply sit, be silent, and hear the story of how God has been at work in our community for so long.

I am grateful for people like Winfred Taylor, they serve as an example of what is best about Powhatan.  In a world where bad news gets the lion share of the attention let us not forget of all the good stories out there, and I am grateful for the story of Winfred Taylor, Patsy Goodwyn, Nancy Alexander, (and the others I am failing to mention) with the Coalition of Powhatan Churches.

What is Important to Me…or…What is the Plan for Music at May Memorial?

“A church without a choir is like a body without a soul” — John Rutter

When I joined my church choir in the seventh grade, I knew that I had joined something important.  I joined a group of people who devoted an hour a week to the rehearsal of music that would be presented in worship.  I joined a group of people who had a special seat in the sanctuary, a seat that enabled them to see everything that was happening in that large room.  I no longer sat with my parents or my youth group friends, I sat with the choir.  And I knew that it was important.

Many years later, I still know that a church choir is important.  Second to the singing of hymns in worship by the whole congregation, the coming together of 20 or so people to sing in worship is the most important musical/spiritual function that happens in a worship service. A church choir is a group of people who, on behalf of the congregation, practices and presents sung praises to God each Sunday morning and the church has the benefit and blessing of listening to that God-focused musical offering.  A church choir is like a huge oak tree, firmly planted in the church demonstrating our humanity, our community, and our Christian souls coming together with different voices in practiced harmony offering praise to God.  Choir is important.

Choir rehearsals begin this Thursday at 5:30 at May Memorial, and hearing that announcement over the past few weeks some have wondered how this is happening.  I will explain.

First, we are advertising in every possible way our job opening.  In the ads it is named “Music Director and/or Organist.”  This means that we would be willing to look at calling two people, one as Music Director and the other as Organist.  Or, we would be willing to call one person who can both serve as Music Director AND Organist, much like has been done over the past couple of years.  We want to advertise in a way that casts a wide net hopeful that we will be led to the right person(s).

Second, over the next few months guests organists have already been scheduled to be with us in worship.  As long as the organist position is vacant, we will have a guest organist playing in worship at least two Sundays a month. May Memorial is blessed for Sandra Parker to be our pianist (her title is now “Accompanist and Director of Small Ensembles”), and the Sundays when an organist is not present Sandra has done (and will continue) a wonderful job. Sandra is also working with the quartet, Voices of Unity, and many soloists who will also contribute to our worship services.

Finally, what about the choir?  Several weeks ago when the position of Music Director became vacant, knowing that the beginning of the choir year was quickly approaching (the date of the first choir rehearsal had already been set), I met with the Personnel Committee and then with many of the choir members, and I offered to work with the choir until the position was filled.  Both the Personnel Committee and Choir members indicated that my doing this is our best option, and they gladly (I think) accepted the offer for me to serve in this temporary volunteer role.

While many may not know this about me, I served as a Music Minister at two different churches in North Carolina from 1996 until 2005.  I led the choir, played the organ as needed (I took organ lessons in seminary), led a children’s choir, and led the handbell choir.  My skills are not those of Mary Ellen, or Ed Alexander, or my wife, but my Music Minor in college gave me the basic tools to do this.  I have energy for this at this point in my life, and I have joy in my heart to volunteer some of my time to make this happen.  And this I believe…choir is too important to not do something, everything we can, to enable it to flourish.  The choir will sing an anthem in worship this Sunday, and as I am given the opportunity to continue to help in this way, they will sing every Sunday.

Our choir is made up of good musicians who deserve to have the opportunity to serve in this important way.  I love our church, and I love the choir, and I want to offer whatever of myself I can for that ministry to continue.

When Vacation Ends Too Soon

My family and I were planning on being at the beach until this past Saturday, but Debbie had other plans.  Ocean Isle Beach, on the southernmost part of the North Carolina coast, was in the crosshairs of the downgraded hurricane and was going to get up to fifteen inches of rain.  Concerned about the flooding, we packed up and came home on Tuesday, and spent the remainder of our week resting in “staycation” mode.

The time we were at the beach was wonderful, all of our children were there, and spending times like that together is priceless.  We sat on the beach together, had some wonderful meals together, watched the Olympics together, put puzzles together (together?), and just enjoyed catching up.  Being together with nothing else to do is what I love the most about beach vacations, and my family and I have had some great ones.  We thought that would last through Saturday, but as I say, Debbie had other plans.  It happens.

In addition to this time together with family, I love having more time for reading while on vacation.  In the past, I must admit, I have spent time while on vacation reading books that are entertaining, but don’t have much substance to them.  Think John Grisham, or Stephen King, or James Patterson.  This year, as I assembled my “beach reading,” I wanted to do a little better.  I love flying through a paperback “whodunit thriller” by John Sandford as much as the next guy, but those always leave me feeling a little unfulfilled and wanting something more.

I think, as a Christian, that much can be gained and learned about God and the life of faith in books that aren’t particularly Christian, and in the books I read while on vacation this proved to be true.

Over the next few weeks I’m going to talk about several of these, and maybe you would want to pick up one of these and read for yourself.

There is an old adage that tells us “out of sight is out of mind.”  On the other hand, we also have been taught that conversely “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”  During my time away, which consisted of two Sundays, I can definitely say that the latter is true.  When I am away you are not “out of sight and out of mind,” but being away, while good, makes my heart grow fonder for our church family.

Visiting Unity of Bon Air

On Wednesday, July 10 a group from May Memorial spent the evening with two pastors from Unity of Bon Air on Buford Road.  This visit was a part of our summer study in which we are learning about “non-traditional ‘Christian’ groups.”

Unity of Bon Air occupies a very attractive building surrounded by beautiful gardens built and maintained by their members.  There are fountains, benches for reflections, flowers, a “rainbow bridge” and area for pet cremains, and a labyrinth.  Their building is craftsman in its style, and it looks like a building that one would see in a peaceful mountain setting.  It is a beautiful place.  Their pastors, who met us on our visit, were very hospitable women.  One, the Senior Pastor, is a former Presbyterian, and the other is a former Baptist.  They both, as older adults, found welcome and converted to the Unity religion.

Here are a couple of observations I offer from our time at Unity of Bon Air.

First, the leaders of the Unity church do not claim to be Christian.  In their explanation, they are “bigger” than Christianity.  They have five principles that Unity followers adhere to, and outside of those five principles individuals are free to choose their own path.  Many who practice the Unity faith are former (and still loosely) Christians, some are influenced by Eastern Religions, and some are even pagan.  At Unity of Bon Air, we noticed even the word church was not often used in their signage and on their literature.  The focus is on God’s love, peace, prayer, and acceptance of all people.  They downplay doctrine, creeds, and theology.

Second, Unity holds to a clearly heretical view of Jesus Christ.  I use the term “heretical,” not in a reactionary or slanderous manner, but in keeping with the historic doctrine, belief, and creeds of the Church.  Unity adherents will freely say that “we believe that Jesus was God’s Son,” and that sounds like us.  But when they continue they will explain that “you also are God’s child just like Jesus, and have the ability to achieve what Jesus did.”  Jesus spoke the truth…you can too.  Jesus was God’s child…you are too.  Jesus came back to life…you can too.  Jesus was no different that what you can be.  Jesus was reincarnated, you can too.  It is in listening to Unity’s leaders talk about Jesus that I am most challenged not to react in anger, because we know from scripture and experience that Jesus is very unlike us, that he is “true light from true light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, and that all things came into being through him.”

Finally, based on what the two pastors told us, many individuals go to Unity communities after they have been hurt in Christian Churches.  They didn’t describe what type of hurts these are, or if there are common themes for people leaving mainline churches and going to Unity.  But it was clear that Unity welcomes and affirms all people, especially those who are a part of the LGBTQ+ community.  The leaders clearly stated that anyone who is a predator or who seeks to disrupt the community cannot be present, and we were appreciative of that.  Unity is unapologetically liberal in its welcome and practice.

Unity of Bon Air is an interesting place.  Like many other churches, they have experienced decline in attendance and financial stability since the COVID pandemic.  As a Christian visiting their facility, it is easy to find a lot that looks familiar, but there is also much that is clearly outside of what we consider orthodox Christianity.  But underneath it all is individuals, just like you and me, who long to connect with God and a way of life that is more than what the culture around us offers.  Unity followers believe deeply in prayer, and in that prayer they believe that Divine connection and healing is possible.  I could never be a part of the Unity faith, but I am reminded of our common desire and need to find God, to worship Him, and to have Him a part of our lives.  This world is too much to face alone, and many people are looking for a community in which God is real and active.

Visiting the Powhatan LDS (Mormon) Church

This past Wednesday night a group from May Memorial visited the Powhatan LDS church, more commonly known as the Mormons.  I had arranged a field trip to visit their church building and to meet with some of their leaders.

Those who went on this “field trip” had a wonderful time, primarily because the members of the Powhatan LDS church are simply delightful people.  They are kind, hospitable, and gracious.  They welcomed us warmly and were eager to share their faith and how they practice their religion.  Based on this visit and other encounters with Latter Day Saints, I’d like to offer a couple of observations.

First, it is easy to feel a great kinship with Latter Day Saints because they place a great emphasis on family and family values.  They are people who live morally conservative lives, and in this age and culture their example is refreshing and attractive for many Christians.  Children are important and valued, as are the generations that came before them.  They do much genealogical research so each family can learn about their ancestors and get a view of their “big family.”

Second, they are committed to their local church and they are hard workers.  Their building that we visited was immaculate.  There was not a spec of dust, a cobweb, or any clutter that could be seen anywhere.  The building maintenance (and all other roles in the church) are done by volunteers.  Each family takes turns cleaning the facility, getting it ready for whatever is to happen that week, and they believe that the cleanliness of their building is a representation of how they commit themselves to God.  I admire this.

Third, Latter Day Saints, by their beliefs, do not fit within traditional Christianity.  Their belief and practice of “baptism for the dead,” the belief that religious works will earn a higher degree of heaven, and their rejection of Christian Trinitarian doctrine are just a few of their beliefs that place them outside of what we know as Christianity.  The reason they work so diligently in genealogical studies is so they can “baptize by proxy” an ancestor who did not accept and adhere to LDS faith and practice.  This “baptism by proxy” will earn a great-great-great grandparent release from “soul prison” to a higher degree of heaven.  This clearly is not Christian teaching.  I do not say this as a slander or in any derogatory way.  The kind bishop we met last Wednesday night clearly said as much.

Fourth, while Latter Day Saints hold beliefs and doctrines that are inconsistent with what we would call “Bible-believing Christianity,” they love God and seek to do everything they can to live lives that are pleasing to Him.  Their adherence to other books they hold equal with the Christian Bible lead them away from traditional Christianity, but they are not diminished in their desire to live committed, holy, and pure lives in which they love and serve their neighbors.

Lastly, even amid differences, and some of them are sizable differences, I feel blessed to share our community with the congregation of Powhatan’s LDS church.  They make our community a better place, and their devotion encourages me to give of myself more fully.

I, along with millions, have been blessed by the music of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and one of my favorites by that group is their singing of the Wesley hymn Love Divine, All Loves Excelling, arranged by their director Mack Wilburg.  You can watch and listen to it by clicking here.

A Moral Vision…

Over the past few weeks I have been re-reading a volume that I read years ago, Richard Hay’s The Moral Vision of the New Testament.  The reason I chose to re-read this book is that Hays, retired New Testament professor at Duke Divinity School, is releasing a new book this Fall, written with his son who is now a theologian, and in the new book Hays apparently has changed course on his view of homosexuality.

In The Moral Vision Hays argues convincingly that the New Testament is univocal in its condemnation of homosexual erotic activity.  But, as Hays points out, it is only one text that explicitly offers this teaching (Romans 1).  In the New Testament, there are far more pressing issues that the writers are more concerned with.  He also answers the question “should homosexuals be allowed in the church?”  To this question Hays states that if homosexuals are asked to leave church he would have to follow them out and that he would gladly leave those inside “who are able to cast the first stone.”  In other words, we all are sinners, even (especially) all of us in church.

I tell you this not to point toward the polarizing debate over LGBTQ issues in the church, but to share the most pressing thing that I walked away from The Moral Vision thinking about, carrying with me, and convicted over.

In an age when churches are numerically “not what they used to be,” it is easy for churches, for pastors, for MYSELF, to focus on the things that will not be viewed as controversial, “offensive,” or that will “step on toes.”  And if the need arises to speak about a topic that is potentially divisive, do so with some degree of vagueness.  What is entirely easier to do is to always talk about love or the teaching to not judge others, “lest we be judged.”  This may or may not work well as a model for church growth, but it certainly does not change the overwhelming moral call of the New Testament.

Here’s what troubles me.

If we look at the New Testament, including Jesus, Paul, John, the writer of Hebrews, and the Revelation, the moral teachings that thread their way through all of these (as opposed to homosexuality) are things that are hard to talk about, because our culture is so immersed in them.  At the top of the list is violence.  Violence done in war, in criminal activity, and even in self-defense.  Acts of violence are clearly, overwhelmingly, and univocally condemned for a Christian.  The ethic from Jesus is clearly “turn the other cheek.”  Jesus is not ambiguous, he gives it as a rule.  That is hard.  To those who think homosexuality is a tough conversation in the American church, try talking about how Jesus and the New Testament view violence, retribution, and self defense.

Something else that troubles me is that right behind violence, the next theme that is clear throughout the New Testament is condemnation of divorce, especially divorce and remarriage.  I don’t want to talk about this, not because there is confusion in the New Testament, but because over 50% of marriages end in divorce.  The model of the New Testament is a monogamous, life-long covenant between a man and a woman.

Next is racism.  It is clear that “In Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek…”. Jesus tells the story of a “Good Samaritan” and Jesus goes out of his way to include those who were viewed as “racially impure.”  I don’t want to talk about this, not because their is even the slightest variation of condemnation in the New Testament, but because race is a political tinder box these days in our country.  If I talk about the sin of racism, who will leave?

You see, when a person joins the Church, they are doing more than getting their name on a role.  Our church, just like most, has a lot of names on the role.  But what is really happening when someone professes faith and joins a church is that they are committing themselves, through the power of the Holy Spirit, to a new and different way of life.  A way of life that is not shaped by the culture, but by the Gospel.  It is not an easy life, to turn the other cheek, to forgive, to live by a different moral code that we see around us.

I hope, I pray, I desire, that we never lose sight that underneath our love for all people that we are called to live lives of Christian morality centered in Jesus Christ.

I look forward to Richard Hay’s new volume that is going to be released in September, The Widening of God’s Mercy: Sexuality Within the Biblical Story.  It is an important issue for the Church to consider.  But either way, I pray that we never forget that our calling in Jesus Christ is a calling to a peaceful, faith-filled, commitment-honoring life.

The Importance of VBS

When my wife, Beverley, was in kindergarten at Brogden Primary School in Dudley, NC, her teacher’s assistant attended a local Baptist Church.  The end of the school year was quickly approaching, and that teacher’s aid’s Baptist Church was gearing up for Vacation Bible School.  The teacher’s assistant invited Beverley to attend her church’s VBS where she taught a class, and Beverley’s parents were happy to take her each day.  As a result of that Vacation Bible School, Beverley, her mom, and her dad, all professed faith in Christ and were baptized.

That event in their lives made an indelible mark on them.  Beverley’s dad would become a faithful worshiper, a deacon, and a member of the Building Committee that oversaw the construction of a new sanctuary.  Beverley’s mom became a faithful worshiper, taught a children’s Sunday school class, served as a Girls in Action Leader, and helped with just about every social gathering in their church.

Beverley’s parents, primarily her mom, also saw to it that Beverley was taken each week to piano lessons, given by the organist at Goldsboro’s First Presbyterian Church.  And, when Beverley was in middle school, her mom “volunteered” her to be the church’s assistant pianist.  A couple of years later she became the official church pianist.  She continued to play the piano at Emmaus Baptist through her time as a Music Education major in college, and after college graduation and a two year stint as a high school band director, she returned to graduate school for organ and Church Music.  Since then she has served as organist and director of music in several different churches from Wilmington, NC, to Richmond, VA.

I tell this story not to brag on my wife and her parents (maybe to brag just a little), but because this story reminds me of how important Vacation Bible School can be.  That one teacher’s aid in my wife’s Kindergarten classroom, by offering that kind invitation, changed the course of Beverley’s family’s life, and in turn through Beverley’s ministry it has continued to touch lives through hymns, anthems, preludes, weddings, and funerals, even until now.  It was simply a kind, natural, low-pressure invitation, and five years later that teacher’s aid probably didn’t even remember inviting Beverley or teaching her VBS class.  It was a simple invitation to a simple, traditional, old-fashioned Vacation Bible School, but in God’s hands it was a tool to bring about His plan for Christ’s Church.

God is in the business of taking ordinary things and using them in extraordinary ways.  In God’s economy, sometimes multiplication happens when we only expect addition, and it comes in ways that we never expect.

May Memorial is currently in our week of Vacation Bible School.  As always, this week is filled with crafts, Bible Stories, recreation, music, snacks, and a lot of fun.  Volunteers have stepped up and are leading children around our building as they experience this summer tradition.  Let us never underestimate the importance of what is happening, for we serve a God who takes small, traditional things and builds the Kingdom.

Summer Study: What Makes a Community Christian?

This Wednesday night we will begin our summer study at May Memorial.  During this study we will think together about cults and non-traditional Christian groups.  We will have our first session at May Memorial this week, and then through the summer we will go on several “field trips” to visit non-traditional Christian places of worship.  As we engage in this learning experience, I hope a couple of things are accomplished.

First, I hope we we understand more clearly what we believe as Christians.  What is it that a community must believe, must confess, must do, to be Christian?  What are the essentials for a Christian Church in faith and practice?  I hope we get better clarity about what it means to be Christian.

Second, I hope we learn more about those who worship and serve in non-traditional Christian settings.  We live in a nation that guarantees religious freedom, so we share our community with those who are free to practice religion as their conscience leads them.  Many Christians have questions about Mormonism, or Christian Science, and this is a good time to learn about the people who are in these traditions.

As we go on our “field trips,” I go with these ideas in mind:

First, I go with the belief that every person we encounter is loved by God and is looking for their spiritual and religious needs to be met.  Every person should be treated with dignity, respect, and kindness.

Second, we can learn best about the beliefs and practices of others by talking directly to them, not listening to what someone says about them.  More information is always good.

Third, someone stating that their faith is Christian does not mean that it is so.  Christianity is not simply what someone defines it to be “for themself.”  While there is great diversity within Church, that diversity is not limitless, and individuals nor communities are not free to change certain beliefs and practices and a community remain Christian.  In our relativistic culture it is not uncommon to hear someone say that “this is my truth.”  There may be a correct usage of this phrase, but when it comes to Christianity, it is not simply “my truth” as I see and interpret it.  It is a faith that is centered on the Living Word of God, Jesus Christ, and is passed down to us.  A Christian demonstration of kindness and respect for the sake of learning does not imply approval or acceptance of beliefs and practices outside of Christianity.

I hope you will join us for the summer study, it will be engaging, informative, and a great time to build community within our church and with those outside of our faith tradition.

Wednesday, June 4, 6:30 p.m.

May Memorial Baptist Church

Wednesday, June 26, 6:30 p.m.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints

1957 Capeway Road, Powhatan

Wednesday, July 10, 6:30 p.m.

Unity Church of Bon Air

923 Buford Road, Richmond, 23235

Wednesday, July 17, 6:00 p.m. (this time is different than other Wednesdays)

Second Church of Christ, Scientist

8791 River Road, Richmond, 23229

Glimpses

When the Day of Pentecost comes in Acts 2 it is a BIG EVENT.  In my mind, the old city of Jerusalem must have trembled as the Holy Spirit came upon the first followers of Jesus.  There was wind.  And fire.  And languages (spoken by believers who previously did not know that language).  People were asking questions.  People were suspicious.  It was big.  Peter brings clarity by quoting the Prophet Joel.  Anyway you describe it, it was a big, over-the-top, powerful, earth-shattering day.

I often hear people still talking about God in this way.  “God appeared to me in a dream…”.  “I heard…and I knew it was God…”.  One of the most devout Christians I have ever known (who is now with the Lord) told me that after his wife died that he had a vision of Jesus in his living room, and that visible moment brought him peace until the end of his life.  These events, these spiritual moments are big, and moving, and life-shifting.  And often I find myself a little jealous that I don’t have them.  If I let my mind run a little unchecked, I can also start to feel a little “less than” as a Christian because what I have is much more modest.

But what I do get is glimpses.  I get these moments, however brief, in which I know that God is present, and moving, and that something holy is happening that I can’t fully explain.

A few weeks ago, our pianist, Sandra Parker, played the prelude in worship.  I don’t remember the piece she played, but it was somewhat quiet, and was in a “gospel style” that I was raised on.  There was a moment during that piece, that I sensed the breath escaping my lungs, and with that escaping air also left the tension and anxiety that I was carrying.  It was so real that I wondered if anyone in worship noticed it.  It didn’t look like Acts 2, and it wasn’t a “vision,” but it was a glimpse.  And for the rest of the morning, I was different.

Ewell Flippo’s mother passed away on Saturday.  Mary Flippo was and is a dear saint, a child of God, and she has entered her rest and reward with our Savior.  Many times, at the passing of a close family member, people will take a couple of weeks “off” from church, a time to allow their emotions to become a little less raw.  But Ewell was in worship yesterday, along with his family, and he prayed the offertory prayer.  As he stepped behind the pulpit and prayed, I had a glimpse.  I knew that his presence in worship, the day after his mother died, had everything to do with his faith, a faith that was passed down from his mother (and father).  It was powerful, it was grace-filled and faith-filled.  It was a glimpse of something Holy.

A glimpse can seem like a small thing, until we realize that a holy glimpse, for the Christian, is from God.  And God gives us what we need.  What God gives us, however brief these glimpses are, is enough.  I’d love to feel foundations shake, and feel hurricane force wind and feel the burning warmth of “flaming tongues of fire.”  But a glimpse of the Holy, these gifts of God, are enough.  For glimpses, however brief, I am thankful.

Choice Words Pastors Use

If you were asked the question, “how do you think pastors feel right now,” I wonder how you would answer?

Last week, at the Baptist General Association of Virginia’s Mission Council meeting, results were shared from listening sessions that the BGAV conducted over the past eight months.  Pastors were asked, with laity present in the room, “how are you feeling now about church?”

A word cloud was presented to summarize the findings, and those of us in attendance were asked two questions:

First, what surprises you?

Second, what do you learn from this?

Here are some words pastors used to describe how they are feeling:

The top five are:  Hopeful…Tired…Excited…Challenged…Frustrated

Other words, not in the top five but that I noticed were: Concerned…Overwhelmed…Stressed…Frustrated…Challenged…Blessed…Panicked…Failure…Overextended…Thankful…Irrelevant…Determined.

We were given some time to reflect on this information with others at our table, and I’d like to share with you a few things that were spoken at my table and with the entire group.

First, I shared with my group, with other pastors in agreement, that not much surprised me, because I at some point have shared each of those feelings.  Most of the time I do feel hopeful, I often feel excited about church.  But yes, I do feel tired, and sometimes frustrated.  Our culture has changed and church has changed.  In the midst of all the change there is great potential, but there is also much stress.

Second, it was the laypeople in my group who were surprised.  One woman in particular shared that she was surprised to think that her pastor felt anything other than thankful and hopeful.  “Don’t you all think that our churches should know that pastors feel this way?” she asked.  Her assumption was that churches just don’t know how their pastors are feeling.

Finally, one pastor, who was in another small group, he shared that he was skeptical of the positive responses that were most often named.  He disagreed that the majority of pastors would name hopeful and excited in their top five, and he felt that those positive responses were  spoken by pastors only because lay people were present when they were asked for their responses.  He said that this goes along with a “positive front” that pastors maintain before their congregations.  This pastor who shared this was an older gentleman who is close to retirement, and he said that in his conversations most pastors primarily feel tired, frustrated, and often they share that they feel like failures.

I generally like to conclude a sermon or a newsletter piece with a summary, a way to “wrap it all up,” but I’m not sure what a summary of all of this would be.  I primarily share this with you so you know.  As I continue to reflect on this over the next few weeks I will share with you common things that bring a sense of hope and excitement, and also those things over which pastors are concerned and frustrated.