You May Be Right - April 14, 2020

You May Be Right
           

           I never remembered hearing of H. L. Mencken until early this year, and then the same week I heard about him from two sources.  First was an editorial by Lutheran Pastor and Christian Century Editor Peter Marty, and then by a member of the May Memorial family who loaned me a copy of Mencken’s brief Christmas Story.

            H. L. Mencken was born in Baltimore in 1880, and he spent his entire life in that Maryland city.  He was a brilliant writer, critic, and was the editor of the Baltimore Sun.  I enjoyed my very limited exposure to Mencken this year, but both introductions came with caveats.  The May Memorial family member and Editor Peter Marty both mentioned that Mencken is not a good example of faithful people, but he is very engaging and though provoking.  His skill and talent are hard to walk away from, even for Christians.

            Mencken was not a Christian; he actually was an atheist.  He was what would be labeled today as a curmudgeon, and he was a racist.  He spoke very harshly of the Jewish race (and religion), and he was particularly critical of organized religion as well as representative democracy.  We would disagree with him in many ways.

            But there is one particular practice of H. L. Mencken that I want to hold up to you.  Mencken received many angry letters during his life, especially as a newspaper editor, and he replied to every one of them.  He was attacking beliefs and practices that many people held sacred, so the critical correspondence was not surprising.

          Mencken had a tall stack of pre-printed postcards on his desk, and when he would receive a letter disputing his views or opinions, he would pick up on of those cards, write the name and address on the front, and sign the back.  Each person received the same message, pre-printed on the card.  It was very honest and brief.  It simply said, “you may be right.”

          None of us, whatever our background or our level of certainty, have it all figured out.  Our politics, our religion, our opinions on any issue, would be well suited with the phrase but “you may be right.”

A few weeks ago, at the onset of “online church” with the Pandemic I wandered back into the world of social media.  If there is one place where H. L. Mencken’s practice would go a long way toward kindness and virtue is in the many Facebook scuffles, tirades, rants, and sermons.

          But somehow we think that if we are open to another view, another opinion, another way of seeing things, we are somehow weakened in what it means to be a Christian.  We have come to believe not only in the truth of Christianity, but also our interpretation of Christianity.  And not only is Christianity’s truth claims above question, but so are my thoughts about that as well.

          Jesus was not looking for people who believed the exact right things.  He rarely mentioned belief in facts or intellectual propositions.  What he was interested in was people who “walked the way he walked.”  People who would “follow him.”  People who would act the way he acted.  We believe in certain things in order to find ourselves within the big tent of Christianity, but we all have room on our desks for a stack of pre-printed cards.  “You may be right.”  Maybe we are called to start placing a few in the mailbox.

Transformers - April 6

Transformers

I will start with a caveat: I’m not an electrician. My understanding of electricity is very limited, and what I do understand makes me dangerous. Several years ago, Beverley and I re-tiled our kitchen back splash, and Dover Johnston, a church member who had more knowledge and experience in his little finger than I will ever have in my whole brain, walked me through it. “You can do it, just be sure that you tape around the outside of your receptacles after you pull them out. I didn’t do it, until I had been shocked about three times. I then took his advice. Me working around electricity is not a good thing. But I do understand what a transformer does. It is a device that takes a large amount of electricity and “transforms” it down to a safe amount for the appliance or device one is using. Travel abroad and a person not only has to have an adaptor so the plug fits, you also must “transform” that higher dose of French electricity to the voltage that the American hair dryer or curling iron or electric razor needs. If this is not done, that hair dryer purchased in America will end up fried. People can also act as transformers. There are people who can take a lot of fear, or anxiety, or panic, and when it passes through them it is conveyed back to others in a reduced state. The opposite is also true. There are some people who take anxiety (or fear or drama in general) and they can “transform” it into an intensified, higher, voltage. You know people who do this. Transform it down, or, transform it up. If I told you that the basement at the church is flooded, there are some people who will take that information and spiral it up, creating a greater crisis than actually exists. They will try to find people to blame, they will say unhealthy things, they will make it sound like the entire building is destroyed to a point that it can never be used again. There are others who will take that information and think about a plan, they understand that the flooded basement is not the end of the world (or the church), and they “transform” the energy down. (The basement is not flooded.) As we live in this time of the Coronavirus Pandemic we can easily find people doing both. Even when they are telling “the truth,” there are some who take the news and cause everyone’s level of fear and anxiety to go through the roof. They are “transforming” the healthy fear (there is healthy fear) into unhealthy fear, panic, and anxiety. Don’t keep listening to them. Turn it off. Find one or two news sources that give the information (without the commentary) each day. Also, I must ask, what kind of transformer are you? Are you one who takes the information (about Coronavirus or anything) and escalates the situation? Who stirs it and stirs it until the drama is spilling over the top? Or, are you one of the many people who takes a crisis and offers it back to the world with a lower level of energy and anxiety? That is who God call us to be. When Jesus was giving his disciples his final words before he went to the cross, he told them, “peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives. Let not your heart be troubled, do not let your heart be afraid.”

Comparing Grief - March 30, 2020

            We live in a world of comparisons.  Having three students in my home, I see it all the time.  Class rank?  GPA?  Starter or second string?  First chair or third?  Beginning or ending the recital?  I suppose it is human nature to compare ourselves to others, and that becomes the norm for our thinking and living.

            After the governor announced the physical closure of all schools someone posted on social media that high school seniors should not be too upset for missing the final days of their senior year, or prom, or graduation as planned.  The reason graduating seniors should not be upset, according to the post, is because a couple of generations ago, high school young men missed the end of their senior year in order to go to war in Vietnam.  Staying at home in isolation, according to the post, was much easier and less severe than going to war.  Therefore seniors (and their families) should not grieve over this loss.  Just compare yourself to that (his) generation.

            I understand the idea.  And I get that what my high school senior daughter is experiencing is less severe than going to war.  But I also understand that our grief as humans doesn’t exactly work that way.

            In Powhatan County, there is (maybe) one confirmed case of COVID 19.  I personally know one person who has been tested for the virus, and that test came back negative.  There are some individuals in our country and around the world who have already lost several family members who have died because of this pandemic.  The citizens of New York City and New Orleans and Seattle and Detroit are facing a much tougher time than we are in Virginia, and certainly than we are in Powhatan.  But even though we are suffering less it does not mean that our grief is any less valid.

            Yes, there are people in the world who have it much worse than we do, but that does not mean that our grief, fear, and despair are any less real.  You have the right to feel pain during this pandemic.  It is frightening.  It is painful to be apart.  We don’t know when it will end.  There is great uncertainty.  And just because there are people in other places who are facing tougher challenges doesn’t mean that we should not feel pain.

            God knows the pain of our hearts.  He knows our sadness and our fear.  While this pandemic will not be taken away today or this week, God will take care of you today.  And he will not leave you.  And whatever you face, pain that some would consider great or small, God will sustain you and not leave you forsaken.

March 23, 2020

A few days before I returned to college for my Sophomore year the Pontiac station wagon I was driving was having an “over heating” problem.  Late one afternoon I got home and decided to top off the radiator with water to help it, and when I slightly twisted the radiator cap it exploded on me.  I knew that the cap could be turned half-way to release the steam.  The problem was that the last person to put the cap back on (me) didn’t put it back all the way.  The ambulance came, I was in the hospital with third degree burns for a few days in my hometown.  I started a long stretch of physical therapy that started at home but went well into the Fall Semester.

                We called the University to notify them of what had happened and they were happy to work with me.  They offered my family a small apartment for a couple of weeks, so my dad and I left for Greenville, SC for me to begin my Sophomore year.  I would go to class, do my homework, my dad would take me to physical therapy and doctor’s appointments.  We ate great meals,  a couple of nights at the Peddler Steak House.  One afternoon we drove up into the mountains of Western NC.  Physical therapy went well, the burns were healing properly, and I was ready to move into the dorm.
                The day my dad left he prayed with me and for me.  In his prayer he specifically said “God, I thank you for the time I have been able to spend with my son.”  I will never forget it.  Because we had a great time together.  I could have prayed the same prayer of thanksgiving, thanking God for the time I spent with my dad.
                I would have never chosen to be burned.  I also don’t think that God somehow ordered for me to go through that pain.  God is not the author of pain and harm.  But God did use it for good in both mine and my dad’s life.
                God did not send Covid 19 upon the world.  This is not a punishment and it did not originate in the mind of God.  This virus is taking life and it is darkness, and in God there is no darkness at all.  But, if we keep our eyes open we can see how God can take this horrible and unwanted pandemic and use it for good.  Please understand, the good that we can find will not make it worth it, and I would hope that no one would contend that the found good in any way outweighs the bad of it.  But, we can find glimpses of God’s presence and grace in the midst of difficulty and pain.
                God is with us.  There is hope.  Do not fear.  God will not leave us nor forsake us.

Reacting...March 17, 2020

Reacting... One of the things I pray about daily in my life is that I not be reactive. I ask God on a daily basis (almost) that whatever I face through the day that I not react quickly. I ask God to give me the strength to be slow, steady, and measured. Those are the exact words I use. It is so easy for all of us to react quickly. When I react quickly I often regret it. Sometimes people tell me astounding things, and when they do, I don’t want to react. Sometimes I hear criticisms (we all do), and I don’t want to react. I want to hear people and process fully what they say to me, and when I react quickly I am not at my best and am prone to mistakes. Last week we made the decision at May Memorial to cancel all activities for the week. We have made that same decision for this week. I pray that next week things will be looking better, but based on President Trump and Governor Northam I am not sure that is realistic. I know that other churches in the community and across the nation did not cancel, and they do not plan to cancel. One pastor contended that God wants us to be “victorious” over Covid 19, that God will protect us, therefore we should not change our habits in any way. I think that is irresponsible. When we are nearing the end of this national emergency, I would rather have erred on the side of safety, even if it is an overreaction, than on the side of over-confidence resulting in the spread of the virus. The Coronavirus and Covid 19 are like most things in our life, we have no control over it. We have responsibility to ourselves, families, fellow church members, and neighbors to do what is on “our side of the street,” but that is as far as we can go. After that, we have to trust God that God will take care of us. And God will take care of us, but that does not mean that we are invincible to the many things in this world that can harm us. My parents taught me that God gave us “good sense” that he wants us to use, especially at times like this. Use your good sense. Follow the President’s and Governor's recommendations. Stay at home if you can, watch out for those grocery cart handles, wash your hands, use hand sanitizer. All of these things (and more) are on our side of the street. But then leave the rest to God. And God will take care of you, and us.

March 9, 2020

   Last month my family and I took a “mini” vacation to Bath County.  We enjoyed a couple of snowy days in the mountains, and we were blessed to be able to spend much of that time outside.  One of the highlights of our trip was a hike with seven other people who were also visiting that beautiful corner of Virginia.  It may be widely known, but Bath County is one of the only counties in Virginia without a traffic light.  It is made up largely by the George Washington National Forest, and the unspoiled wilderness close to the West Virginia state line is a wonderful place.

            Our hike was up through the gorge following a stream that was fed by a hot spring that cascades between two high ridges.  A van dropped us off deep in the forest, and we followed our guide, crisscrossing back and forth over the stream that cut its way through the landscape.  Our guide pointed out the many native and unique plants and trees, he explained the formation of the Alleghany Mountains, and he showed us many ocean fossils in the plates of mountain rock that one time were ocean floor.  He spoke strongly in favor of conservation, he found beauty in places that were not first apparent to his hikers, and he even taught me how to make a great whistle out of an acorn cap.
            Our guide also told many stories about his life.  Brian was in his 50’s (I would guess), he was born in Upstate New York to a Native American father and French Canadian mother.  He openly talked about his faith story and spiritual life, a mixture of Catholicism and Native-American Spirituality.
            I was most interested in the story he told about when his family moved from Upstate New York to the Virginia Mountains.  Brian was a young teenager, bi-racial, a “northerner,” and carrying a northern accent mixed with Canadian words and colloquialisms.  His classmates at school told him that he didn’t “belong here,” and he could think of a hundred reasons he was right.  He was miserable, and his family knew it.  One summer morning he had gone with his dad to the local grocery store, a morning that he had been exceptionally mopey.  His dad took him by the arm, walked him around behind their pickup truck in the parking lot.  His dad pointed down to a dandelion that had grown up through the asphalt.  That little flower was all alone in the middle of a sea of black pavement.  His dad pointed to the flower and told him that sometimes we are planted in and grow up in a place we would never choose.  But, you have to be strong, and remember that you are planted there for a reason.
            Brian’s struggles didn’t immediately go away, but he began to see that God (or the Great Spirit as he would say) did plant him in that place for a reason.  And over time, his life began to flourish in Bath County and western Virginia.
            I was happy for my daughters to hear this story, because it is not easy being a teenager.  At times teenagers find themselves in tough situations and must be strong and find meaning where it is not apparent.  But the message is also true for adults, for me.  God puts us in places for reasons we may never understand, and our calling is to be faithful, be strong, and look for ways to be God’s salt and light.  Even when we are as alone as that lone dandelion in the middle of the asphalt parking lot.
            Brian was a great tour guide, a knowledgeable naturalist, and a superb storyteller.  It is amazing that when we keep our ears open we can hear many voices, including Gods

The Season of Lent - February 26, 2020

Wednesday begins the Season of Lent, the six week/forty day period (not counting Sundays) from Ash Wednesday to Resurrection Day when the Church takes a solemn turn to consider Jesus’ journey to the cross.  We consider our sinfulness, repentance, and our own mortality.  It is a season of soul-searching, a time to return to the Lord in ashes and repentance.  Jesus entered the wilderness for 40 days after his baptism, and the season of Lent designates forty days that we may enter the wilderness and fully rely on God.

  Traditionally, Christians have decided to “give up” something during Lent.  Chocolate has always been a favorite, caffeine, cigars, or alcohol.  Many people decide to take a “social media” fast, giving up Facebook or Instagram.  All of these are fine, and some people may find spiritual growth in refusing a reliance of these so that they may rely on God.  This year, my thoughts are drawn toward those things that I may need to give up, not just for the season of Lent, but permanently.
    The Prophet Joel will proclaim to us on Ash Wednesday that God calls us to return to God with all our heart.  God doesn’t call us to get everything cleaned up and then come, but to come with our hearts.  God is concerned with those things we do or don’t do, but God also wants our hearts, God wants them to be pure.
    A Lutheran pastor offered a list for the season of Lent several years ago, an action for each day, and it has been helpful to me.  I offer it to you again as a reminder or a plan of how we may offer our hearts to God and observe a Holy Lent.

Day 1: Pray for your enemies
Day 2: Walk, carpool, bike or bus it.
Day 3: Don’t turn on the car radio
Day 4: Give $20 to a non-profit of your choosing
(Sunday)
Day 5: Take 5 minutes of silence at noon
Day 6: Look out the window until you find something of beauty you had not noticed before
Day 7: Give 5 items of clothing to Goodwill
Day 8: No bitching day
Day 9: Do someone else’s chore
Day 10: Buy a few $5 fast food gift cards to give to homeless people you encounter
(Sunday)
Day 11: Call an old friend
Day 12: Pray the Paper (pray for people and situations in today’s news)
Day 13: Read Psalm 139
Day 14: Pay a few sincere compliments
Day 15: Bring your own mug
Day 16: Educate yourself about human trafficking 
(Sunday)
Day 17: Forgive someone
Day 18: Internet diet
Day 19: Change one light in your house to a compact florescent
Day 20: Check out morning and evening prayer online at The Daily Office.
Day 21: Ask for help
Day 22: Tell someone what you are grateful for
(Sunday)
Day 23: Introduce yourself to a neighbor
Day 24: Read Psalm 121
Day 25: Bake a cake
Day 26: No shopping day
Day 27: Light a virtual candle 
Day 28: Light an actual candle
(Sunday)
Day 29: Write a thank you note to your favorite teacher
Day 30: Invest in canvas shopping bags
Day 31: Use Freecycle
Day 32: Donate art supplies to your local elementary school
Day 33: Read John 8:1-11 
Day 34: Worship at a friend’s mosque, synogogue or church and look for the beauty
(Sunday)
Day 35: Confess a secret
Day 36: No sugar day – where else is there sweetness in your life?
Day 37: Give $20 to a local non-profit
Day 38: Educate yourself about a saint www.catholic.org/saints
Day 39: Pray for peace
Day 40: Pray for your enemies (you probably have new ones by now) then decide which of these exercises you’ll keep for good

Ministry with Individuals with Autism - Feb 17

Last week I attended a Middle District Pastor’s Continuing Education Luncheon.  These events are held monthly, and most of the time the topic and presenters are right on point.  Last week’s topic concerned how churches can welcome individuals and families who are living with a wide range of special needs, specifically Autism.  It is estimated that about one in sixty children today are diagnosed with Autism, and for males that number is about one in forty.  It is also estimated that the number of children with sensory issues is nearly one in twelve.  Last week’s speaker has an adult son with Autism.  She started her career as a special education teacher in Chesterfield County Schools, but now she serves in Virginia for the Federal Government helping families with special needs children.  She shared that although she grew up in the church, the child of a Children’s Minister, as her son was diagnosed and her family began dealing with issues related to his diagnosis, she became distant from the church.

            One of the pastors asked the presenter “what could your church have done to help you stay connected when you began dealing with your son’s diagnosis?”  Her reply was not confusing or detailed or difficult.  She said that she would have loved to be asked “what can we do for your son and your family?”  She said looking back that is all it would have taken.  People thought if they mentioned his diagnosis it would be painful or difficult for her and her husband, but she said it would have meant the world to her.  She knew her son was Autistic, and to know that her church family would welcome them in spite of his struggle would have made the difference.
            Several years ago there was a family with an Autistic child worshiping and serving with us at May Memorial.  The family had two sons, and tragically the dad had terminal cancer.  The family worshiped with us for a couple of years, and finally, toward the end of the dad’s cancer battle, moved to North Carolina to be closer to family.  I remember as time came close for the youth to go to Passport camp, the mom and dad signed their two boys up to go.  One without special needs and one with Autism.  There was never much said about that potentially difficult situation.  An adult at May Memorial found out about it, and she stepped up to go with the youth and give 100% of her time to supervising that young man.  She made sure he was where he needed to be, and most importantly, that he didn’t wander off.  The youth went to camp and had a great week.  It was a great opportunity for an Autistic young man who could have easily been denied a week a camp because of his disability.  But for a May Memorial member who gave her time.
            I thank God for this woman and her willingness to do what she did.  It was a blessing to a family who were experiencing a very hard time…an Autistic son and a dad with terminal cancer.  What a blessing it was for them.

Grand/Father Daughter Dancing - February 10, 2020

Grand/Father Daughter Dancing
            Laura and I looked forward to this past Friday night for a couple of months.  It was our fifth (and last) “Father-Daughter Dance” that we have attended at her school, Flat Rock Elementary.  All the elementary schools in Powhatan host this annual event on different nights close to Valentines Day.  On the same night, Gerald Hagen went with Eva to her dance at Blessed Sacrament Huguenot Academy, another wonderful dance for students in our community.  I don’t do a lot of dancing, mainly because I can’t dance.  But whether one dances or not, the father daughter dances are still great events at our schools.  This year’s theme at the Flat Rock dance was Hollywood Red Carpet theme, with a star lined walk of fame, fancy hats, and flashy sunglasses.  For several weeks I also knew of an invitation that was extended to me (as a dad of daughters) to attend a Father/Daughter dance at PCC the same night.  PCC is a effective and thriving church, and I think this was their second or third year having their own dance in addition to what is done at the elementary schools.  Of course, I opted for the school dance.  From what I hear the dance at PCC was well attended by their members and others from our community.

            I thought about PCC and their dance within the walls of their church, and I thought about what it would be like for May Memorial to host such an event.  Would it be better to attend an event like this in the church where I am comfortable, or is it better to attend at Flat Rock Elementary?
            For many years churches tried to recreate every aspect of life inside the walls of the church.  It was a little before my time, but I remember hearing a book referenced while I was in seminary titled “Total Church Life.”  And that is what many churches tried to create.  A “Christian” version of life outside of the church.  Church book stores.  Church coffee shops.  Church health clubs.  Churches tried to take boy scouts and girl scouts and recreate it within the church, and the Baptist version was called Girls in Action and Boys in Action.  The church that my Columbia Seminary graduation was held at, Peachtree Road Presbyterian Church in Atlanta had its own parking deck with tunnel that ran under Peachtree Road so folks could easily get to their gym, pool, and fitness center.  It was larger and nicer than any YMCA that I have ever seen.  And I wonder, is it better for Christians to build their own life and activities within the walls of the church facility or is it better for them to be in the community?  Where should I dance with Laura, at Flat Rock elementary or in the church?
            There is not a right or wrong answer, of course.  In the gospels we see at least two commands or methods of carrying good news.  One is “come and see,” and the other is “go and tell.”  And while both are part of the church’s mission in the world, I feel my life shifting toward the “go and tell.”  That is where my heart is being drawn, and I seek to adjust my calendar and schedule to reflect this. 
            Does God want the church to create its own microcosm set apart from the world or does God want us to be salt and light in the world?  Does God want us to withdraw or does God want us to carry the love and peace of Jesus into our world?
            I had a great time with Laura on Friday night.  We went to dinner before (we really didn’t need to do that, but Laura insists that be a part of our date) and I saw and talked to a church member who was working in the restaurant.  At the dance, one dad, a friend of mine, told me that in addition to bringing his daughter he brought another student whose dad committed suicide when she was in kindergarten.  “Don’t you think that is what Jesus would want me to do?” he asked.  I talked to another friend who is Buddhist/Agnostic and continued building that relationship.  I talked to a new student’s dad who is a Dr. at MCV, a young man, and we had a conversation about pastor’s praying for the patients before they go in to surgery.  I’m not sure if this man is a Christian or not.  I didn’t go to evangelize, and I didn’t do any type of thing at this dance.  But I like being outside of the church and having these encounters.  “Go and tell” is a command of the New Testament, and I simply have a hard time doing that at 3922 Old Buckingham Road.

A Trip to the Familiar - January 27, 2020

This past Saturday my family and I traveled to North Carolina to have a meal celebrating my dad’s birthday.  Instead of driving all the way to southern Wayne County, we met my parents in Wilson at our favorite barbecue restaurant, Parkers.
                Parkers is a NC institution.  It opened in the mid-40’s on Hwy. 301 in Wilson.  At the time that section of highway was dotted with Bright Leaf Tobacco warehouses, where local farmers would take their tobacco crop to market.  Parkers is very basic.  Wooden floors.  Wooden chairs.  Wooden tables.  It is nothing fancy, but in my opinion, it is the best.  The food is great, the service is always quick and friendly.  You eat “family style” at Parkers, so the food never ends.  The wait staff is all teenage boys wearing white shirts, khaki pants and 1950’s style paper hats, another reason why my children love Parkers.        

  I am drawn to that restaurant for another reason: it has not changed since my childhood.  In my mind it looks exactly the same.  The food is exactly the same.  It is the same experience I remember even from my pre-school days.  As we had dinner with my parents this past Saturday, I remembered sitting in that same dining room with my paternal grandparents, my uncles (two of whom are now deceased) all my cousins, and of course my parents and sister.  As we sat there with my children this past weekend, it was the same experience.  It was familiar, and comforting, I think in a way it felt like home.
                I like things that don’t change.  I have seen so many things change in the world in only 45 years, there are very few things that have stayed the same.  I don’t think it is a stretch to estimate that the octogenarians in our church have probably seen more change in their lifetime than occurred in the previous 250 years.  And Parkers has stayed the same.
                This is how we frequently look at the practice of our faith.  In a world that seems to be changing too quickly to keep up with, the one place we want to stay the same is church.  To be able to go back to a place week after week that is familiar and safe, where I know the routine and the rules and the roles, it brings great comfort.  The only problem is that we serve a savior who regularly pushes his followers to, well, change.  To move on.  Move forward.  To drop old notions and ideas; to forsake systematic injustices and cruel practices; and to embrace what God is doing in the world.  But leaving the familiar for the new unknown is not easy.  God is in the business of bringing new life and new hope and new beginnings, but often for that to happen some things must be allowed to die or to be left behind.  In order to follow Jesus, sometimes we must leave behind the boat and the nets.
                I love all the parts of church that should and do stay the same.  The ordinary.  But I can never convince myself that everything must stay the same.  Because that would assume that everything we do or believe is already perfect.  And perfect we are not.  So God continues to call and mold and change and challenge.
                I guess as a native North Carolinian I am saying that it is okay, even desirable, to change my practice of faith as needed, just don’t change my barbecue.

January 22, 2020

            It was Wednesday, November 8, 2008 when I walked to my table at McDonalds to have a quick breakfast before starting my workday.  It was the day after the presidential election, and at a nearby table the previous day’s election was the topic of conversation.  “Well, it looks like we have a N for president now.  I never thought I’d see it.”  To say that the statement was offensive is an understatement, but I also must admit that it was not surprising.

            I was sitting in an elementary school classroom in 1981 when a Christian African-American police officer entered the school’s office to enroll her son in kindergarten for the following year.  She was taken into the pastor’s study where he explained to her that because of the school’s “Christian” convictions they did not allow black students.  He told her that he hoped she understood why they would not allow her child the same opportunity for education that virtually every other race received.  Indian students, Chinese students, and Pilipino students were all allowed to attend and learn beside white students, but black students would find no welcome.

             Mary (not her real name) was an elderly member of the first congregation I served as pastor.  She was a seemingly pleasant and sweet lady who had a beauty shop in the front room of her home for years.  She was a children’s Sunday School teacher and a faithful church member.  When I knew her Mary suffered from rheumatoid arthritis, and I would frequently talk to her and visit her in her home.  On one such visit she told me that the Saturday before she was passing by the church just as a wedding was ending.  The happy bride and groom were walking out onto the sidewalk, the birdseed was being thrown into the air, and the photographer was capturing the happy moment in pictures.  There was one problem, the couple were African-Americans.  “Michael, I can’t believe we are letting Ns get married in our church now!”  This was in 2005.

            The sin of racism is still alive.  One does not have to look far in our culture to find quiet and not-so-quiet examples of how it still exists in the minds and souls of individuals and institutions.  Racism still surfaces in discrimination of minorities, and racism still surfaces in the way we look at mixed-race couples.  This past year has exhibited many high-profile racial stories that are turned into political talking points, but underneath the 24-hour news channels racism is still real and it still pervades our world.

            I can think of nothing that Jesus addressed more in words and actions than the sin of racism.  Talking to the Samaritan woman at the well.  Telling the story of the good Samaritan.  Pointing out that the only leper who returned to give thanks for his healing was a Samaritan.  In all of these are stories we see again and again that our Lord did not adhere to the prejudices of his day but showed the value, equality, and goodness of every person, regardless of their race.

            Over the past few years members of May Memorial have demonstrated great love and cooperation as we have worshiped together with our African American sisters and brothers at Thanksgiving and during the Holy Week services at Mt. Zion Baptist Church.  One cannot be present at these services and not see the joy and love that exists among all of the worshipers as we worship together, black and white, old and young.  It is a glimpse and taste of God’s heavenly kingdom that re-orders our sinful world according to God’s dream for humankind.

            On this Martin Luther King Jr. day let’s all decide that we will do our part to drive this injustice from our community.  While we may not be able to affect broad sweeping action or reform, we can begin with ourselves.  Don’t listen to a racial joke or keep silent when a racial slur is used.  Have the courage of Jesus and call wrong wrong and allow God’s kingdom to shine a little brighter in our world.

Moving Forward

            Whenever I go on my iPhone to make a hotel reservation there are always the normal questions: destination, dates of travel, and number of guests.  Upon entering “two adults/three children,” three scroll-down menus appear asking for the age of each of the children.  Even though I am an honest person, I have a confession about answering those three simple age-questions.  Sometimes I don’t put my children’s actual ages.  I put the ages my children were when if I had the ability I would have stopped them from growing.  Do you remember your children at that (those) ages?  When you would have loved to have hit life’s “imaginary pause button” and they would have stayed that way forever?  Instead of 16, 13, and 9, I sometimes put 11, 9, and 4.  Those were the ages.

            Joy fills my heart when I remember those days, when I see those photographs.  When I remember those vacations and when I pass “Land of the Dragons” at Busch Gardens.  Those were great days.

            Anna turned 16 today, Sophie has grown so much in height and maturity this past year, and Laura will be ten in December.  Time is moving on.  There is a lot I miss.  All parents face this, but as our children grow we have a choice.  I can give myself to nostalgia and memories and miss the opportunities that a new day offers, or I can allow my relationship to grow and change and find new joys that exist with older children.  Things will never be the same.  They will never be 11, 9, and 4 again.  No more Chick-Fil-A play spaces or toddler slides at Water Country USA.  I can’t go back.  But, there is so much that offers joy today.  A Ghost Walk in Williamsburg at 10 o’clock at night.  This wasn’t possible at 11, 9, and 4.  A nice dinner at a “fancy” restaurant.  This wasn’t possible when my children were still throwing Gerber Puffs. 

            I could miss all the new joys and hopes and possibilities by trying to bring back the past, the way it was, and if I try hard enough to bring it back it will destroy what I have now.

            I know parents who refuse to have a growing relationship with growing children, and I know parents (and grandparents) who are willing to adjust and change and move into the future.  The difference between the two is the difference between death and life.

            The same is true of churches.  In our changing world it is a reality that we cannot go back to the way things once were.  For good or bad, through celebrations and failures, time moves on in the midst of a changing world.  The question is the same.  Will a church live with a nostalgic backward gaze or be willing to change and grow and move with new possibilities?

            Our God is the God of new life and renewed hope.  I feel that hope this morning.  My children are growing, I honestly could never fathom having a 16 year old.  And what I have learned is that at every turn there is hope and joy.  Thanks be to God.

Communication

            As the deacons are preparing for next month's deacon’s retreat I recall stories of deacon’s retreats in the past.  I have heard many stories of early deacon’s retreats held in Natural Bridge, and the joke was that the “new” deacons were always assigned the room directly adjacent to the railroad tracks resulting in several jolting interruptions during the night.  I remember Williamsburg deacon retreats and dinner at the Seafarer and ordering coffee and the waiter holding the coffee pitcher over his head to pour into a cup on the table.

            But there is another deacon retreat from which there is one line that I hear repeated often.  I’m not sure the location of the retreat, and I don’t know that year’s active deacons.  I don’t know if there was an outside leader or if it was an in house retreat.  But Jesse Green was the interim pastor, and he made this statement: almost every issue that a church faces can be traced back to poor communication.

            I hear this line repeated from time to time, and I think it has never ceased to be as true as when Jesse said it.  Communication is important.  In marriages, in families, in businesses, in schools, and in churches.  I am aware of a church in Goochland who instead of hiring a new secretary re-named and adjusted that position into Communications Coordinator.

            May Memorial spends a great deal of time on communication. 

1.      Weekly Newsletter.  This is the primary method of communication within the church family.  Many churches, even larger churches, only send a monthly newsletter.  May Memorial’s is sent every Monday by email.  There is also a list in the church office for those who do not have access to email and a paper copy is sent through the USPS.  Included in the newsletter is:

·         Prayer list

·         Upcoming events

·         Previous Sunday’s offering total, including special gifts

·         Pastor’s column (almost weekly)

·         Thursday night menu

·         Youth activities

·         Children’s activities

·         Music news

·         Worship theme for the upcoming Sunday

·         Business meeting announcements

·         Business meeting minutes

·         New members

·         Thank You Notes

·         Bible Study Information

·         Special Services

·         Team updates

2.      Sunday Bulletins.  Every Sunday a bulletin is printed that not only includes the order of worship for the day, but announcements.  Because of time constraints all of these announcements are not spoken in worship.  But the bulletin always includes:

·         Calendar for the week

·         Deacons of the Month

·         Who gave that day’s flowers

·         Offering total from previous Sunday

·         Menu for Thursday night

·         Guest/Meal card

·         Youth Activities

·         Children’s Activites

·         Music news

·         Missions news/announcements

3.      Through the week various emails are sent on an “as-need” basis to the church, and often these announcements are also sent on a robo-call.  These announcements include:

·         Hospital admissions

·         Surgeries

·         Urgent health crisis of a member

(When sending information about hospital admissions, surgeries, and health concerns consideration is given to respect a person’s privacy and not to offer private details.  While John Smith may want the church to pray for him, he may not want the church to know the private details of his condition.  Also, I would never want to give incorrect information about a health condition.  The purpose of the emails is to call our church to prayer.)

·         Death of church members and death of church member’s immediate family

·         Occasional reminders from the pastor or from the church office

·         Weather Closings and other calendar changes

4.      Church Website.  The website is updated in the church office, and we work hard to keep information current.  You will find many things on the website, including:

·         Each week’s bulletin

·         Each week’s newsletter

·         Previous sermons

·         Announcements

·         The Church calendar

·         Weather Closings

·         Staff, phone numbers, weekly schedule, address, email addresses, etc.

I would offer several requests from you:

1.      If you read through this list and you know of a way that we can communicate more effectively please let us know.  Is there information you need to know and cannot find?  Are you not getting emails?  Robo-Calls?  Please call the church office and we will make sure you are on the list.

2.      Just because you didn’t hear it doesn’t mean it wasn’t announced.  Take time to read the newsletters, the bulletins, and the emails.  And again, going back to number 1, if you are not receiving the newsletter or emails let the church office know.

3.      If there is something you need more information about or clarifications please call me or come to the church.  My door is always open, and if I do not have the information you need I will help you find it.

4.      If you are gifted in the area of communications and technology this could be a great way for you to serve God in the church. 

WatchDOG Pastor

            Over the past ten years school systems across the country have found great value in having student’s dads (or granddad, or step-dad, or male guardian) in the school each day.  The program came to be known as WatchDOGS, and the DOGS stands for Dads Of Great Students.  The program came to Powhatan a few years ago, and I’ve been involved with it since its inception.  It is easy to volunteer, there is a brief orientation, a background check, and the dad is ready to go.

            When a dad volunteers in the school for the day, he simply spends time with the students.  When dad arrives in the morning he is given a schedule of which classes and resources he will be participating in.  The dad introduces himself during the morning announcements, tells about his children in the school, and what his favorite part of school was when he was a child (which according to the paperwork cannot be recess).  He then goes to classrooms, the gym, the playground, music, art, and the lunchroom.

            I served as the WatchDOG at Flat Rock Elementary the Tuesday before Christmas break, and my day was filled with conversations and jokes and smiles and high fives.  I went to music with Mr. Thomas and spent time playing sharks and minnows on the playground.  I learned that I’m not as quick and agile as I once was, but I must say I held my own.  I spent time with our church’s children and children who attend our VBS.  Laura loves me being there as the WatchDOG, and each day’s schedule is made so the dad can spend extra time with his child(ren).

            I love going to art when I’m the WatchDOG.  The art teacher at Flat Rock is simply wonderful, she is always prepared, she’s creative, the kids listen to her very well, and they are excited to be there.  Being in art is also a good way for me to talk with many of the children (since talking is allowed in art) and give them a little extra help.  I spent several hours in art this past time, and after the last fourth-grade finished the teacher had one more thing for me to do.

            All the kindergartners had made ceramic lollipops which they painted and decorated.  Before the lollipops were sent home for winter break Mrs. Kunka wanted them wrapped in candy paper and a metallic tie so they looked like real lollipops.  That became my job.  It was easy enough, the names were on the back, and I wrapped each one.

            I noticed each child’s name as I was performing my task, initially looking for names that I recognized.  But what happened after a few lollipops passed through my hands is that I began praying for each of those children.  By name I asked God to protect them, watch over them, and that they would have what they needed.  I did this silently, no one was aware this was happening.  I knew several of the names, but most of the names I did not recognize, nor did I know anything they needed in their lives.  I simply lifted their name before God.

            This made me think of how many Christian teachers pray for their students.  Not aloud or with an aggressive voice, but a simple silent prayer, a lifting up of a name before God, that the child will have what he or she needs.  Or live into their full potential.  Or be safe.  To make good decisions.

            I’m grateful for our teachers, those who have no faith and those who have much faith.  I’m grateful for teachers who are in worship on Sunday mornings and I’m grateful for those who claim no religion, because all of them give of their lives and knowledge to educate our children.  I’m grateful for all of them, but I’m particularly grateful to know that there are a few teachers who see my children’s names, or think of them, and lift them up before God.

Waiting

There are not many things in my life that require me to wait.  I can order a book from Amazon, it will be on my front porch in two days, free shipping, and as soon as the transaction is processed I can read it instantly on my phone.  No waiting.  In my study at church I have a Keurig Coffee Machine.  All I have to do is drop in a pod, press the button, and within seconds I have a great cup of coffee.  No waiting.  I can access almost any piece of music on my iPhone and instantly listen to a wide variety of musicians perform the selection.  No waiting.  I can immediately get in touch with my children, wife, family members, and friends by texting.  No waiting.  I have an app on my phone that will give me directions to any location in the world, and if traffic is backed up for any reason the app will automatically re-route me so that I don’t have to wait in stopped traffic.

            Our world, with its technology, has eliminated many of the things that at one time caused us to wait.  In many ways this is a tremendous blessing.  No one likes to wait for coffee, and what a joy it is to access music without going to a store or waiting for a concert.  But this “immediate” world can cause us to think that all things should happen on our schedule, exactly when we want it, and that we should not have to wait for anything.

            Our world has already jumped to Christmas.  There was no waiting, no patience, the culture simply jumped to the holiday full force.  But if Christmas means the Coming of the Holy One, of God with Us, we people of faith know that God does not work on our immediate schedule.  God rarely comes when we’re expecting Him, more often than not God moves in ways that require us to practice patience and faith. God works on God’s schedule, and for us that means waiting with attentive hearts.

            This Sunday we begin the season of Advent.  For us Baptists we begin catching a foretaste of Christmas during the Advent season, but as we slowly light each candle of the Advent Wreath we are reminded that for ages God’s people waited for the coming Messiah.  This also means that we often have to wait for God.

            I could readily name several things for which I’m waiting on God.  Things that I continue to pray about and carry before God, and God has not yet come for me in these places.  Sometimes it would be easy to give up, to despair, and to try to take matters in my own hands.  But I know that for ages and ages God’s people have waited, and even though they didn’t know when it would happen, God came.

            These Advent Sundays are as important for me this year as they ever have been, and I know that for many in our May Memorial family there are important for them too. 

            Be patient, pray, cry out, keep watch, be alert, for God will come.  

Together in Unity

            Yesterday afternoon the Powhatan Pastor’s Fellowship joined our congregations together and offered our thanksgiving to God during a combined worship service.  Our community worshiping together at Thanksgiving is a long tradition, and this service has included an offering that supports the work of the Coalition of Powhatan Churches, and we continued this tradition yesterday.

            When I came to Powhatan over six years ago, there was not a functioning pastor’s fellowship.  Bill Hardison had supported and been a part of a fellowship that had ceased to meet, and when I came there was still a checking account, but no longer a pastor’s group.  After being in Powhatan about 18 months I contacted John Hemming from Powhatan UMC, Bryan Stevens from Mt. Zion Baptist, and Sandi Kerner from St. Luke’s Episcopal.  We met for lunch at the County Seat, and that was the beginning of the re-formation of a pastor’s fellowship in our community.

            I have many Baptist clergy friends, and I’m a part of a group of Baptist pastor’s who meet monthly.  But the Powhatan Pastor’s group is a fellowship that I value more than any other.  The group is made up of different denominations: Baptist, Methodist, Mennonite, Episcopal, and non-denominational.  It is made up of varying races, ages, and positions in life.  There are full-time pastors and bi-vocational pastors.  And even in the midst of great diversity there is a unity that exists among our members.  We love each other, support each other, pray for each other, and value each other.  It is a great group of pastors.

            We meet the second Tuesday of each month, still at the County Seat, and we begin about 11:30.  We frequently end about 1:00, but sometimes it is after 2:00.  Sometimes we pray while we’re together, sometimes we welcome guests to share the time with us.  At our last meeting we were blessed with the presence of our Sheriff and one of the Department’s Captains. 

            At one point it was suggested that we meet in a quieter place, a place set apart where we could quietly pray together.  We decided that it is important for us to be together in a visible place at least once a month in our community.  At a table where there is male and female, black and white, young(ish) and old(er), representing Christ’s Church.  This is important to us, because this is what God’s kingdom looks like.

            Worship yesterday was a little foretaste of what it is going to be like when Jesus’ prayer is answered and God’s kingdom will be on earth as it is in heaven.  I’m thankful for my fellow pastors in our community, what a blessing they are to me.

Thankful

            Several weeks ago, I was leaving an area hospital and on my way back to the church it was convenient for me to stop by the local warehouse store for some church kitchen supplies.  It was nearly lunchtime, so I was able to indulge one of my guilty pleasures and grab a hot dog and soda at the lunch counter in the store.  I picked up the supplies, checked out, picked up my lunch, and found a table.  I sat by myself, but soon after I started eating a couple found a seat beside me.  I overheard the conversation at the table next to mine, but it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was a one-sided monologue made up of a litany of complaints.

            The man complained about the weather, the renovation going on in the store, his lunch, the shape of the parking lot, and how he would have to exit the parking lot to get to the store’s gas pumps.  His wife simply sat and listened.  I couldn’t get away fast enough.

            It occurs to me that there are several ways to approach life in this world.  There are different perspectives with which people may choose to view their lives, circumstances, and general place in the world.  When I am at my best, I choose to approach life as a blessed, precious child of God, blessed beyond all that I deserve.  Some approach life as a victim, and others face the world with a sense of entitlement.  For others, luck seems to play a big part in their worldview, and others come across as A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh character Eor, an eternal pessimist who always carry a sense of impending doom.  I confess that I am prone to each of these, but at my core I believe that we are all blessed by God beyond all that we deserve.

I have a devotional book that offers me a short thought each day, and on many days at the end of the devotion I jot down a list of things for which I’m grateful that day.  It is a simple exercise that sets my world in perspective.  In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I offer to you a short list of what I am thankful for today:

            I am thankful for my wife of almost 21 years,

                        Who loves unconditionally,

                        And reminds me not to take myself too seriously.

                        And still makes date nights something I always look forward to.

            I am thankful for my three wonderful daughters.

            I am thankful for my May Memorial family.

            I am thankful for my parents and my wife’s parents,

                        That they made us go to church as children—even when it wasn’t fun,

                        That they sent us to college,

And expected us to take responsibility for ourselves when we became adults and were married.

            I am thankful for our home,

                        That it is warm and safe,

                        That it faces east so the sun shines in the front windows in the morning,

                        And that I don’t have to act like a pastor there.

            I am thankful that I have all I need and so much more.

            I am thankful God gives me things for free that I could never afford…

                        Like the joy of sitting by a fire in my yard with my family,

                        And the wonder of a sunset over the ocean on summer vacation.

            I am thankful for the people that I have met that I would have never sought out and the things that I have learned from them.

            I am thankful for the painful experiences that taught me things I would have never learned without them.

            I am thankful for music and people who compose and perform it,

                        Like Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, and Doc Watson,

                        And Vaughan Williams, J.S. Bach, Hubert Parry, and Herbert Howells.

            This week leading to Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful, and when we stop to consider it just for a moment, aren’t we all blessed?  Aren’t we all blessed beyond all that we deserve?

Important Things

            By most accounts yesterday was a normal day at May Memorial Baptist Church.  We gathered for Sunday School, a couple of the deacons arrived early to prepared the bread and cup for the Lord’s Supper.  We greeted each other, welcomed a couple of first time guests, sang together, heard a great choral anthem, and remembered our church family members who died this past year.  We read scripture, our youth returned from their weekend retreat, and most significantly we shared a profoundly simple meal at the Table.  We made a couple of mistakes yesterday as we acted out the drama of worship.  They were quickly covered over and corrected, but as normal, we weren’t perfect.  But we were together, and God was with us.

            Yesterday morning as another Baptist congregation was worshiping midway across our country their worship was interrupted with the blasts of gunfire.  Many lives were lost, many more injured.  They were simply trying to do what we did yesterday, but their work was tragically interrupted.

            In response to this violence, and the countless acts of violence in our nation toward “soft targets” such as churches, May Memorial will make some changes to better protect those who gather to worship together in our sacred space.  Details of those changes will be coming soon.

            I cringe at people who always make a tragedy about themselves, but last night and this morning, especially as I watched the news, I couldn’t help but think that this could have been us.  Small community, small church, young children and Sr. Adults, and most directly, pastor’s daughter.

            One response is to do what we can to ensure our safety, to limit our exposure.  And we will do that.  But another response is to consider what is most important.  Yesterday’s mistakes are nothing.  The “one communion plate short” issue that the deacons felt so embarrassed over is of no consequence.  Everyone was welcomed and served at Christ’s table as they should have been.  What is important is that we were together, and that you were with us.  It is important that we sang together, and prayed together, and listened together.  The care we showed for each other is important, and listening to scripture together is important.  And what was most important is that God was with us.  Everything else…no consequence.

            May God loosen the Church’s grip on all of those things that make no difference and may God strengthen us to hold fast to those things that matter.  Amen.

Montreat and Jayber Crow

          Last week Beverley, our girls, and I attended the Montreat Conference on Worship and Music.  This was our 18th year attending this conference, and from our first trip it has always been a spiritual highlight of our year.  This year the conference theme was centered around the line from How Great Thou Art “Then Sings My Soul,” and everything revolved around this familiar line.  I attended Bible studies focused on missions and evangelism, a daily lecture on preaching.  Beverley attended offerings for musicians, sang in a choir that rehearsed twice daily, handbell choir, and a daily hymnology lecture.  My family worshiped together each day, hiked in the afternoons, and rested.  It is a great week, and the chance for Beverley and me to be worshipers instead of worship leaders nourishes our souls.
            Several years ago, I also decided to set aside the week to read more than I usually do.  I started working through my reading list while Beverley and I were at Eagle Eyrie at Passport Kids Camp the week before.  I read Robert Jones’s eye-opening The End of White Christian America, started working through John Howard Yoder’s The Politics of Jesus, and re-read Learning to Breathe Under Water by Richard Rohr.  My favorite, and I didn’t finish it until this past Saturday, is Wendell Berry’s novel Jayber Crow.  Jayber (his given name is Jonah, Jayber is short for his nickname, Jaybird) Crow is the barber in the fictional town of Port William, KY, who sensed a call to ministry early in his life but then dropped out of seminary because he had too many questions that in his mind couldn’t be answered.  He ended up being the town’s barber and farmer.  In Jayber Crow Berry argues for a simple life lived within one’s means and a life lived close to the land.  He stressed the importance of simplicity, community, hard work, and caring for each other.
            After two weeks of Passport Camp, Montreat Worship and Music, and several books, I come away with several realizations about my life as a Christian (and maybe as a pastor).  First, I am convinced that I should spend more time in prayer.  I am like everyone else: very busy.  It is easy in the business of family and church to neglect quiet time in meditation, prayer and scripture reading.  When I get away for these spiritual times I am reminded of how important daily prayer and meditation is for my faith.
            Second, I am reminded that I need more time(s) of Sabbath rest.  Maybe you have noticed that I take (nearly) all my vacation time in the summer.  From September through early June I find it very difficult to be away, but I find myself nearly dried up and worn out at the end of that long stretch.  I need time to be quiet, and listen, and read, and be renewed.
            Third, I am convinced that I must allow God to do His job, and me to do mine.  I like to think that if I have enough time combined with enough effort and enough ingenuity that I can do it all.  I cannot.  But God can.  This is very simple, but sometimes I forget.
            I’m grateful for the week at Passport with the children because it nourishes my soul, and I’m grateful that God has made Montreat a holy place for me and my family.  God truly nourishes our souls and hearts when we draw near to Him, and it is good to live in His presence day by day.

What Kind of Place is This?

            In the book This Odd and Wondrous Calling Lillian Daniel and Martin Copenhaver reveal many of the joys and challenges of being a pastor.  Copenhaver is now a seminary president, but the book was written while both were still serving as UCC pastors, one in Glen Ellyn, IL, and the other in Wellesley, MA.  In one chapter Copenhaver tells of his church deciding to open a “cold weather” homeless shelter.  One morning as he had just begun work in the church office he heard a piano being played at a concert hall level.  He snooped around and saw that it was one of the homeless men who had sat down and began to play.

            Copenhaver formed a relationship with the man, and before long the man had started attending worship and becoming part of the church family.  He was a wonderful musician, but he also suffered from a mental illness.  His untreated mental illness was the reason that he found himself homeless, but he started finding a new home in that church community.  He was generally quiet, would go long periods without speaking, he would avoid eye contact, and he had trouble building relationships.  The most notable symptom of his mental illness would be a rare but suddenly loud shout, even sometimes an animal noise, most commonly barking like a dog.  This didn’t happen often, but when it happened the first time everyone was shocked.

            The man joined the choir, he was a great singer, and most Sundays all was well.  But every so often worship would be disrupted momentarily from the choir loft by a loud BARK.  The church members knew it could happen at any time, and they had grown accustomed to it.  Copenhaver writes that if you were visiting the church, say for your first Sunday, and it happened, it would cause you to nearly jump out of your seat.  He says what was most interesting was to see a visitor shocked and rattled while everyone else didn’t even seem to bat an eyelash.

            One Sunday as worshipers were leaving the sanctuary a visitor said to Copenhaver, “What kind of place is this, where a person can have an outburst like that in worship and no one even notices!?”  That is a great theological question: what kind of place is this where a person who struggles with a mental illness and causes outbursts in the middle of starkly quiet New England worship is included?

            On most Sundays if we have room on our bulletin cover I include the words “This is the House of God:  All Are Welcome.”  I notice from time to time the sign at Powhatan Mennonite Church says:  Everyone Welcome: We Mean Everyone.  This is the invitation from Jesus, and this is the invitation of May Memorial Baptist Church.  Jesus never turned anyone away.  He didn’t require a list of past successes or failures from his would-be followers.  He offered a blanket invitation to follow him.  Some chose to not follow after hearing what Jesus was all about, but all were invited to follow in his way.

            I was at a pastor’s meeting several years ago in Chesterfield, and I was talking to a pastor who I didn’t know very well.  “I heard so and so was at your church this past Sunday.”  I had to think a moment, but then I realized he was talking about a family who had visited May Memorial for the first time the Sunday before.  “That’s right, they were at May Memorial this past Sunday.”  “Well, I hope you understand that they’re on you know.”  He said this, half-jokingly, half-serious, letting me know that he was tired of dealing with them and was glad that they were looking for another church.  He felt that he and his church was better off without this family.

            In a proper understanding of the Church, of God’s family, and of God’s invitation, there is no one that The Church or a church or our church is “better off without.”  Every person is created by God and has a unique calling in God’s family.  Every person is uniquely created and called by God and has a part to play in the ushering in of God’s kingdom. 

            My oldest daughter has become interested in college acceptance percentages these days.  “Did you know that it is harder to get into VCU than into Virginia Tech?”  No, I did not know that.  The acceptance rate at William and Mary, Carolina, U of R, Longwood, all of these have been named and discussed (even though I don’t remember the numbers). 

            What would you guess that the acceptance rate of the church is?  If you had to give it a number, what do you think?  I would have to give it a 100% acceptance rate.

            What kind of place is this?  This is the House of God.  All are welcome.