Dying Moments

Today I am officiating a funeral for a little boy named Brendon. Remarkable character, full of life, and animated by something larger than his own life and circumstances. Brendon died Sept 10. If you have a chance, take time to read his mom's narrative of those dying moments (below). You will be blessed, and your life will be better for it!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008 5:20 PM, CDT
It is with a heavy heart and a tired mind that I have to tell you that Brendon Scott Coates, earned his angel wings and passed from this world into heaven this morning at 0609.He went peacefully...I was sleeping next to him and was woken at around 0500 by Tony who told me that his heart rate was very slow. I held my baby and just stared at his face, counted every single eyelash, rubbed every inch of his beautiful body and watched him as the breaths got smaller and smaller and the heartbeat faded and faded and his color simply fell from his body, and then eventually he just slipped away. He didn't take any last big breath, he wasn't gasping, he wasn't in any kind of pain whatsoever...it was as if while I was holding him, God wrapped his arms around both of us and just transfered Brendon from my arms into his. His heart just stopped beating silently. He looked as though he had a smile on his face, that cute innocent Brendon grin he so many times had even when times where rough. It was his way of saying, "it will be okay Mom, you're gonna be okay". I could almost hear his sweet little voice saying that to me as he left.

A Franciscan Benediction

I ran across this quote--a Franciscan benedition--from my wonderful wife Heather. It is the quote included in her email signature, and it has really rung something with me. "Benediction" comes from the roots for "good word." It is worth ruminating on this good word...

"May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

"May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

"May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

"And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done."

Beautiful, provokative, inspiring, challenging!

Blessings,
JON

Sims Family Pic

Here is a fun pic of our wonderful family. Though Michael is a little worn out, most of us are having a great time.

Noah (green shirt), 6 yrs.
Daniel (red shirt), 5 yrs.
Michael (blue/brown), 21 mos.





(courtesy of www.courtneywilkersonphotography.com)

Follow Up to Tragedy

A couple of people have asked about this past year. At another time I will provide more details about the challenges and blessings we have experienced. For now, please see the following blog entry. It will give you an idea of one challenge we've experienced, which continues to have profound effect in our congregation.

http://drinkrain.blogspot.com/2008/01/letter-to-bishop-in-wake-of-tragedy.html

Not of This World

"Not of This World." These words struck me as odd. Emboldened in a creative, edgy font, spanning the back window of a new, sytlish crossover automobile, these words hit me with a strange irony. I could not help but laugh, at first. After all, what could be more humorous than using the proud, cultural icon of American living--an automobile--as a means for promulgating a counter-cultural, other-worldly ethos. Therein lies the irony--using culture to bash culture.

Personally, this is disconcerting to me. However, it is so common in our Christian sub-culture, especially among the younger generation (including mine). "Not of This World" seems to be the mantra of so many Christians today. It can be summed up like this... "Man, all we need to do is look at the world and do just the opposite." Excellent (sarcastic grin). We are basing our Christian ethic on "counter-culturalism" rather than an intentional discerning of what it means to be a Christian in our day and age. And in doing so, there are several fallacies I find deleterious to the Christian church as a whole and to a serious, personal devotion to Christ.

First, if we base something on anything other than God, it becomes an idol. Sounds silly, but I really believe this one. As soon as we start looking at the culture as a basis for measuring the practice of our faith, even if it is a "counter" measure, we lose sight of what we are to do... seek first the kingdom of God. Culture becomes our norm for practice and behavior. Then, scripture, prayer, the example of Christ, or the leading of the Holy Spirit all become interpretive vehicles for furthering our conviction based on "counter-culture" ideology. Not far off is an outright rejection of God as understood through our classic confessions of faith.

Second, what happens if the culture we live in is predominantly Christian? I believe much of our society has been established on a Christian ethos. I think of civic organizations helping to make a difference in the community, stores and factories closed on Sundays because Christian worship is a central aspect of society, morality that knows right from wrong, an education system that provides an opportunity for the less fortunate to excel in life, not to mention a generation who sacrificed their own lives to ensure the freedom of "other" people. Life, liberty, self-responsibility, sacrifice for the greater good--are these not good qualities that come from God? Yes, our society may have gone overboard a bit, such that liberty and self-responsibility have birthed radical individualism. And I am convinced no generation holds the totality of expression of Christianity in and of itself. But, can we discount these foundational qualities as being "anti-Christian"? I fear that a blind and undiscerning disregard for the culture around us may be an unintentional denial of some great Christian qualities that will keep our next generation from experiencing the fullness of God. It is not easy. As one of my favorite philosophers said, "It is easier to die as a martyr than to live as a Christian in today's world."

Third, I believe this counter-cultural Christianity does not take seriously the incarnation. God the Son took on flesh. When he did, according to historic Christianity, God sanctified the material. We don't like that today, because it means some things in the world are actually good. God gave us food, provision, sustenance from the material world. He gave us the capacity to enjoy the pleasures of this material world (food, drink, sex, a walk in the park, fishing). We would rather condemn "things" of the world, which makes us feel better about being "Not of This World," all the while having no idea what it all means for our everyday living. It is easier to sit in the safety of the black and white than to walk in the fog of grey. In the Gospel of John--the same gospel where we find "not of this world"--we find the Word becoming flesh. This unifying principle of life (logos = word), the one that gives order and meaning to this world, precisely because it exists beyond it, is now condescending itself to that which it ordered and arranged. This is incarnation. And it is frustratingly not so black and white.

I suppose I could go on for a while. (I actually deleted several paragraphs already.) But for the sake of brevity, I stop. Next time I see that car in Amarillo, I will smile. And chuckle. And say a prayer for our Church.

Blessings,
JON

Amazing Love

Something amazing happened. Extraordinarily unexpected. This past Sunday in church.

Let’s start a few months ago, back in January. I received a call from one of our members, the patriarch of a large family, and I immediately knew it would not be a pleasant conversation. “Can I come and visit with you today?” Enough was said in his tone. Given the rocky road we’ve been through the past six months, I knew what was coming—another dissatisfied member, unhappy with the changes we are making, on the verge of leaving, if they hadn’t already decided that. He and his family were critical of me, and not shy about it. At the conclusion of one sermon series, he greeted me after church, “Boy, we sure are glad that series is over.” So, I knew what was coming.

He stepped into my office, sunk down into the sofa, and jokingly said, “See ya! We’re outa here.” I said nothing. After a moment, he began to explain. He and his family had some major concerns with the direction of the church, my leadership, the state of our worship, the fact that we are a United Methodist congregation, bespeckled with misperceptions. But it wasn’t his concerns that bothered me. It was how they were colored, how these concerns became imbued with spiritual accusations which may or may not have been a part of all this. For instance, at one point, he said, “We have not experienced God in worship since you have been here.” Ouch. That hurts. Tell me your concerns. I can deal with that. But don’t imply that I am not of God. Am I a tool of Satan? Am I holding back the ‘power of the Spirit’? What do I do with that? How do I answer that? As a man who secretly prides himself on being a man of integrity, guided by the Christian ethos set down in Scripture and handed on to us through generations of martyrs, I don’t think anything could have been said that would have struck more at the core of my being and the deepness of my heart. I was hurt, angry, frustrated. Internally, I was steaming from the fresh wounds inflicted upon me. I wanted to lash out, defend myself, lecture him on discernment, something to get back at him. I kept silent.

He left, us not having resolved anything. Surprisingly, the next Sunday they were in church. Every subsequent Sunday has been suspenseful. Would they be there? Have they left? And every Sunday they are present, I do not want to greet them. But I do. Every Sunday they arrive, I do not want to share the “love” of Christ with them, whatever that is supposed to mean anyway. But I am compelled to. I have held on to the words of the Psalmist, “Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him; do not fret over those who prosper in their way, over those who carry out evil devices. Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath. Do not fret—it leads only to evil.” (Psalm 37)

After communion this Sunday, as I was retreating from prayer back to my seat, I ran straight into the path of this man returning to his seat from the communion line. I did not want to look at him, but I knew it was inevitable. That “love” of Christ thing again! As I saw his face, there was something different in his eyes. He was holding back tears, some of which already graced his cheeks. He extended an arm for a handshake, and once I obligated mine, he pulled me close for a hug. “Thank you, Jon.” He tenderly and warmly spoke into my ear. Enough was said in his tone. “Thank you.”

I don’t know how to explain it. But it felt good. Not to have been redeemed from disgrace, per se, as if I am now the conqueror, the one who wins after all. Yes, that is a temptation I struggle with. Deeper down, however, it felt good to know that this man is growing, struggling with the same things every man does, and somewhere in the thick of life, he found gratitude, he found grace. And he offered some back. Praise you, O God, for your amazing love!

In Christ,
JON

Let Freedom Ring

“For Freedom Christ has set us free.” Paul shares these words to the church in Galatia. What is that freedom? And how does being set free, free us? What does freedom look like in our lives? We may find the answers in the bits of Paul’s letters that follow. He speaks of letting love reign in our lives, obeying the truth, being cautious in the use of freedom, living by the Spirit (not obeying the passions of the body). And if we do these, God will bear fruit in our lives… love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” Fruit comes after hard work. Freedom comes as a result of discipline.

This is a good reminder for us as we celebrate our nation’s freedom, namely, that freedom did not come without hard work, discipline, sacrifice. Think of our founding father’s signatures on the Declaration of Independence. They were not pushing papers, or signing an insignificant document to be filed away and never read. They were signing their lives! It was in some sense a Book of Life for them.

As Christians we believe in a Book of Life—the book of eternal life. Our names are written in it when we come to faith in Christ. The hard work and sacrifice of God’s Son Jesus made all this possible. As a result, we enjoy freedom. And in our response to Christ, we live in freedom. For freedom Christ has set us free. Perhaps the words of Elton Trueblood may give us some things to consider about freedom…

“In the conduct of one’s own life it is soon obvious, as many have learned the hard way, that empty freedom is a snare and a delusion. In following what comes naturally or easily, life simply ends in confusion, and in consequent disaster. Without the discipline of time, we spoil the next day the night before, and without the discipline of prayer, we are likely to end by having practically no experience of the divine-human encounter. However compassionate we may be with others, we dare not be soft or indulgent with ourselves. Excellence [and freedom] comes at a price, and one of the major prices is that of inner control.”

Blessings in the freedom of Christ,
JON

The Joy of Unity

A typical afternoon in our house goes something like this... Noah copy-cats Daniel. Daniel lets out a blood-curdling scream in angst. Noah maliciously karate-kicks Daniel in stomach. Daniel launches his toys across the room and bolts to tattle to mom. On the way, he knocks Michael over, whose ball goes flying under the big chair where Michael is unable to get it. But he tries anyway, sobbing passionately about his loss. Then perceiving threat, Oliver the cat, who was sitting in the chair, locks his defenses on this hysterical intruder. Claws and teeth sink into Michael's arms. Crying in pain, Michael attempts to dislodge himself, and Oliver's grasp tightens. The crying rockets to a feverish pitch. A panicked Heather jumps to Michael's aid, knocks over Daniel--who was on the way to her--while the timer for the oven begins its chorus of rings. Ahhhh... dinner is ready! Sometimes we wonder if we will ever make it to the next day.

Then, after dinner, after baths, after dressing for bed and cleaning up, we sit down for a family read. Dad lies on the floor, book open. Noah snuggles to the one side, while Daniel sits to the other, close to mom. Michael backs up for Daniel to hold him in his lap, which he does happily. Occasionally Michael gets up, and we receive the blessing of his hand on our heads, rubbing us as if a congratulatory petting were our reward for a long day's work. Back to Daniel's lap. Together we read. Together we talk. Together we laugh. Together we enjoy the unity of family.

Times like these we see in a new light the Psalmist's words, "How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!" (Psalm 133)

I truly believe a healthy church family is no different--on both sides of unity! At times is seems like things will never come together. People act, others react, some get knocked over, some cry, some seem to have claws and fangs, some who are looking out for the good of another end up running over someone else. And we wonder if we will make it another week. Yet in the midst of all this, there is something refreshing about being a family. At the end of the day, when we stop to think about the relationships we have made, the history we are making, we realize we are together--learning, growing, laughing, loving, enjoying the unity of God's family.

Blessings,
JON

A New Word

Michael has learned a new word. Heather and I could not be happier. To understand just how happy we are, it is helpful to know his history of words.

His first word ever was “ball.” By failing to pronounce the ‘L’—like most young toddlers—his at first sounded like “bah.” Surprisingly though, he learned to say his ‘L’ quickly, but in a rather curious way. Most say their ‘L’ by curling the tip of the tongue up to the back top of the front teeth. Michael, however, managed to train his tongue to curl up laterally on both sides. This tube-like tongue formation was a favorite fad for kiddos, but I’ve never seen a toddler this young learn it with such intensity—“ba-ull.” Getting closer. After a million more tries—“ba-all.” Got it. In a strange way.

So, “ball” was his first word, and undoubtedly his favorite word. Why? Because he learned the exhilaration of naming. And he named everywhere. Seeing oranges in the produce aisle… “ba-all.” Balloons in the store… “ba-all.” The leathered sphere bouncing in the NBA playoffs on TV… “ba-all.” In places betraying our first glance… “ba-all.” Ball. Ball. Ball. Ball. Ball. Ok, Michael, we get it! For Michael, “ball” was the verbal representation of a thing, an event, a property, a relation, something existing independently of him and from which he derives meaning and joy. Or to put it in less philosophical terms—it christened his first love… balls. He throws them, kicks them, bathes with them, sleeps with them, sits down and rolls them, and proudly shows them. And though he has added countless words—most unrecognizable, but with the same firm conviction in their existence—“ball” has been the most revered.

Until now. Yes, now there is a new word. Moma and da-da are VERY excited he has moved on to something new. Finally, we are free from “ba-all” repeated by the thousands every hour. We are impressed with his rapid, verbal development. After all, this is a compound word. We are immensely satisfied with the impassioned proclamation of his newer love. But, we are also a bit concerned. The word… “badgee-ball.” Translation… “basket-ball.”

Isn’t it amazing? His new love is still his old love. His newer passion has grown from his previous singular vision. His development and learning are rooted in his past knowledge. And his joy grows. It reminds me of John’s encouragement to abide in the love of Christ, “Beloved, I am writing you no new commandment, but an old commandment…. Yet I am writing you a new commandment that is true in him and in you.” (1 John 2.7-8).

Praying that we may all abide in Him,
Jon

Pastors' Wives' Revenge

For all the spouses who make another's ministry that much more purposeful, better grounded in reality, and firmly rooted in good humor!!

Daniel's Pre-K Class

Here is Daniel's Pre-K class. Daniel is in red shirt with white stripes toward the middle of the picture. Daniel possesses a vivacious appetite for life. He is animated, dramatic, enjoys making others laugh, and is just a whole bunch of fun to be around. Not surprising, Daniel is the favorite of many in our class.

One child's father once asked us about our dog (at the time we had one; we don't now). "My daughter tells me your dog knows how to say cuss words," he jovially inquired to Heather. "Oh?" Heather responded with shared curiosity. When the parents tried to tell their daughter dogs don't talk, she was emphatic that they do: "Uh, huh. It's true. Daniel said his dog said it twice." Hmmm...

Savannah, Georgia

After our retreat, Heather and I spent a day and a half at Savannah, Georgia. We stayed at the Westin Resort on Hutchinson Island (between Savannah and South Carolina) and rode a ferry across the river to Savannah for each excursion.

(1) Savannah riverside, taken from our hotel room. On Saturday evening, Heather and I enjoyed a private balcony dining experience on the second floor of a riverside restaurant. With tasty bacon-wrapped, blackened shrimp, chips and salsa, and plenty of time, we watched sundry boats and diverse people pass by below.

(2) Paula Deen's Restaurant--The Lady & Sons. We arrived Saturday morning at 9.15 to take our place in line for tickets to Paula Deen's restaurant. This is how the line was when we arrived, which we were told was a 2 hour wait from our spot a block away. Needless to say, we did not eat there. But we did enjoy the store next door. Hmmm...

(3) Forsythe Park. Savannah was founded and designed by James Ogelthorpe. His intention to place parks throughout the city has made Savannah a fascinating visit today. Each park is named after a dignitary and houses a monument to another individual or group. Every block or two in the historic district a park offers rest and memory to the weary, curious walker. However, Heather and I found walking through downtown unlike any city we've been in. It just didn't feel like we were in a city. Forsythe Park is the largest park and the farthest from the riverside.

St. Simon's Island, Georgia

Last week Heather and I attended a Spiritual Friends Retreat, sponsored by Asbury Theological Seminary and funded by Eli Lilly Foundation. Located on the beautiful St. Simon's Island on the coast of Georgia, at the Methodist retreat center Epworth By The Sea, we were accompanied by 50 others--clergy and spouses--to learn, grow, and bask in the presence of God. It was a remarkable experience, emphasizing Sabbath and Rule of Life, and the most refreshing retreat experience since Heather and I have had children.

Pics... (1) Entrance to Epworth By The Sea. Notice the spanish moss draping the majestic branches of these enormous live oaks.
(2) Our hotel. The facilities were a mix of modern and not-so-modern. We were fortunate to have stayed in the updated hall. Our room overlooked the 'sound' (i.e. land side of the island), which was peaceful. At times we could see dolphins curling up and down the waterway.

(3) Christ Church in Frederica, just moments away from Epworth By The Sea. Christ Church was the first Episcopal Church established on the Island just weeks after the first settlers arrived in the mid 1700's. Though the building itself was built later, the church began meeting under the leadership of the Anglican priest Charles Wesley, who often preached under the 'Great Oak' on these premises.

Liturgy and Orgy: Paradigms for Worship?

While reading Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath, I ran across this interesting description...

"Liturgy's an odd word, even awkward, for the early church to have chosen to describe its acts and forms of worship. It was a word they had to pry loose and drag over from a context far removed from the world of hymns and prayers and sermons. Liturgy originally meant a public work--something accomplished by a community for the community. A town bridge, for instance, or a village well, or a city wall: something built by the people and for the people. The oddness and awkwardness of the church's decision to import this word is even greater when we realize that they had a word for worship close at hand, a word in wide circulation within a religious context: orgy. Orgy now has sordid overtones. But in the days of the early church, it didn't, or at least the sordidness was still in the background. Orgy described a public event that produced a private, usually ecstatic, experience. It was the word pagan religions used for their worship, regardless of how many peole were involved--and the more, the better--the emphasis was always squarely on the emotional experience of the individual."

Ouch! I don't enjoy readings like this. As a 2x4 across the forehead, these words whack my pride in what I often consider a "worshipful" experience. I tend to label the veracity of God's presence on whether or not I have felt his movement. Usually, this translates... I was overwhelmed emotionally, I received some bit of encouragement that helped me feel better about myself, my heart strings were pulled, and so on. All these may, indeed, be a valid part of the worship experience--I certainly don't discount that--but they are all about me. I wonder... are these the bedrock paradigms for understanding the mystery of Christian worship?

Mark Buchanan offers a different way to address worship, and for me a different way to assess the validity of worship--what does it do? where does it go? He continues...

"Liturgy is done by me--I am invited, perhaps required, to play a role--but it's not about me. It's about us. It is about the Other. Its purpose is to benefit the entire community--to provide protection or access to all. One of the more common usages of the word in the ancient world was for the making of a bridge. Liturgy is bridge building."

How are we building bridges?

By the way, Mark is an evangelical pastor in Canada, whose church's worship style is contemporary.

Blessings,
JON

My Holy Joy

St. Augustine wrote Confessions in 397 AD. It was a personal outpouring of his soul to God, a prayerful account of his life, and a thoughtful pondering of God’s mysterious ways. Early in his book, Augustine sets forth an eclectic description of God…

“What, then, are you, O my God—what, I ask, but the Lord God? Who is Lord but the Lord? Who is God save our God? Most high, most excellent, most potent, most omnipotent; most merciful and most just; most hidden and most near; most beautiful and most strong; unchangeable, yet changing all things; never new, never old; making all things new, yet bringing old age upon the proud; always working, yet ever at rest; gathering, yet needing nothing; sustaining, pervading, and protecting; creating, nourishing, and developing; seeking, and yet possessing all things. You love without lusting; are jealous, yet free from care; repent, and have no sorrow; are angry, yet serene; change your ways, leaving your plans unchanged; recover what you find without ever losing; are never in want, while you rejoice in gain; never greedy, though requiring interest. You pay debts while owing nothing; and when you forgive debts, you lose nothing…. O my God, my life, my holy joy.”

Sometimes I forget to ask that question: “What, then, are you, O my God?” I forget to ask it intentionally, in a way that breaks to the heart of my soul and makes me face the parts of my being that are not directly given to God. So often I am perfectly comfortable with what I already know of God. In my mind I may recite the things of God I know I should say—“God is great; God is good; let us thank Him for this food.”—those rut-like rudimentaries I inherit from the habits of faith borne out of amazing experiences with God, which have over time lost their umph.

But there are other times too. There are moments in life when I stop to think about God, asking the deeper questions that go beyond my own world, questions striking at the very heart of God’s character and identity. Who are you? Who are you, really? Why did you make me? Why am I here? Why do you love me so much? Why do you want me to be yours? These are the questions that lead me to greater faith, because they lead me to God. They allow me the opportunity to open myself before God and struggle with the complexities of faith, the deeper doubts of life, and the changing relationship I have with Him. They give me the grace to offer up my own inadequate ideas of God, and come face to face with the Absolute One, the Living God, and recognize that when all is said and done, He is the One who paid my debt and forgave even a sinner like me! “O my God, my life, my holy joy.”

Can We Blow Something Up, Dad?

Yesterday, Noah and I bought a science experiment kit. He saved his money for quite some time and wanted to buy science stuff. We 'played' with it for much of the day today while Mom, Daniel and Michael are on retreat in Abilene. With 450 plus experiments to consider, we dove into the flotsam and jetsam of parts--beakers, test tubes, wires, batteries, chemicals (baking soda and the like). We learned today about Inertia both in resting and moving objects, and the force necessary to stop or make move.

Then, Noah went to play with his friend Jake. When they came back, I heard the sincere question, "Can we blow something up, dad?" Hmmm... I suppose boys will be boys, preferring destruction to most forms of entertainment. Well, we didn't blow anything up. But we did do the baking soda/vinegar trick, and they thought that was way cool. After that they still wanted to blow something up.

Karate Noah

Noah was awarded his Karate white belt this week. He is very proud. He is learning blocks, kicks, positioning. He gets to spar with other kiddos and enjoys it every time. Mom and Dad like it because he and Daniel are learning discipline, respect, honor as well as being prepared to defend and protect others. Noah is here in 'fighting position'.

Just A Quick Nap, Please!!

This is Michael Aidan just a few months ago sleeping peacefully at 14 months. Though he is just beyond a year old, he already thinks he is a big boy, for he just wants to be doing the things his brothers do. Hmmm...

Making Life a Prayer

This week I have been reading a short compilation of John Cassian’s writings entitled Making Life A Prayer. Writing fifteen centuries ago, Cassian shares thoughts of spiritual growth and the complexities of living in Christ that are relevant to our spiritual journey today. His main emphasis is on prayer, which is the means by which we come into constant communion with Jesus. Cassian describes the variety of ways God may speak to us…

“Often through some inexpressible delight and keenness of spirit the fruit of conviction arises so that it actually breaks forth into shouts owing to the greatness of its uncontrollable joy. The delight of the heart and greatness of exultation make themselves heard. But sometimes the mind hides itself in complete silence within the secrets of a profound quiet so that the amazement of a sudden illumination chokes all sounds of words, and the overawed spirit either keeps all its feelings to itself or loses them and pours forth its desires to God with sighs too deep for words. And sometimes it is filled with such overwhelming conviction and grief that it cannot express it except by floods of tears.”

Uncontrollable joy. Profound silence. Overwhelming grief. These are the responses we sometimes have when God shares with us the power of his Grace, the revealing of his Word. Though these are variegated and seem contradictory, I think they accurately reflect the many-faceted ways God works in us, speaks to us, and draws us to his side. We come with the totality and complexity of our emotions and thoughts, because God wants all of us—smiles, tears and uncertainties—to be found in Him.

This month, as we experience the new life of Spring budding forth all around us, let us also consider how God’s Easter promise of new life in the soul may come to us.

Blessings,
JON

Our Interfering God

Connie Williams, editor of Discipleship Journal, shares this about her life…

“Someone watching me go off to work in the morning, sit in my cubicle all day, and then head home in the evening—maybe with a stop at the library or grocery store—would never believe I’m living a life of adventure. Here in Colorado, adventurers tend toward the extreme. Skiers take on backcountry slopes and flirt with avalanches. Hikers conquer mountain peaks. Bears and mountain lions sniff around our back doors (no kidding). So how can a cubicle life punctuated by grocery runs possibly be adventurous?

“Easy, when I’m abiding with God. When Jesus promises that He and the Father will come and make their home with me (Jn. 14:23), He neglects to mention that’s about as comfortable as having a case of dynamite delivered to my living room.”

I love that description, because I feel at times that’s how God is with me. Amidst the routines of life—which at times feel like a monotonous humdrum of fun-less busyness—there is an adventure happening. God is moving. God is encouraging and leading. God is prodding and convicting. God is lifting and setting straight. God is making his home in me. Yes, God is an interfering God! And agreeing with Connie Williams, I don’t find it very comfortable.

But I do find it good. It is good, because I learn to rely on God. I learn to trust him, lean on him, depend on him, so that before long I see like him, hear like him, speak like him. As he becomes more, I become less. And that is where the adventure happens, a place where predictability vanishes and the world looks different. In the midst of the roaring of the river rapids I hear the very voice of God. When turbulent times come upon me, I feel his steadfast love coming my way. When I am sleeping and cease to be cognizant, I know he is singing a song of prayer over me.

Oh, thank you, Lord, for your abiding presence. May I be more of yours today!
JON

A Prayer for Clothes

As we continue this month with our sermon series, may this prayer encourage us into further pursuit of Life in Full, Life in Christ.

"The Lord is king;
he is robed in majesty;
The Lord is robed;
he is girded in strength."
-Psalm 93

I know your majesty and strength only insofar as I know you, O Lord. How I long to see the benefits of your character, yet so often without the substance of your relationship. I try to put on the clothes of godliness, and yet they fall away with little effort or they drape carelessly like tattered, filthy rags. the clothes I choose--however nice, however trendy--are but vague representations of the garments you desire for me. They are incomplete and amatuer attempts to be what I am not, the gentle facade of a godliness I cannot maintain apart from the radiance and goodness of your transforming Grace.

Help me, O Lord, to know the pleasure of your strength and majesty. As I rest in your arms, I become aware that your robe covers me. It clothes my nakedness. It warms my heart. It comforts my soul. Therein lies my strength. Therein lies any glory I may claim. Therein lies the purest rest and joy. O, thank you, Living Jesus, for your loving embrace.

Longing for more of His embrace,
JON

A Letter to the Bishop in the Wake of Tragedy

January 10, 2008

Dear Bishop Whitfield,

I am writing to inform you of recent events and brag on our connectional ministry.

In the early morning of Sunday, December 23 our former youth director Michael Beckworth shot and killed his wife’s boyfriend, then turned the gun on himself, killing himself as well. This news was a severe blow to many in our church who knew, loved, and were blessed by Michael. They were reeling, cast into a swelter of emotions—sad, angry, despaired, exhausted, confused, frustrated—and needed care. The media quickly sprang on the tragedy, conveying Michael as current youth pastor of Westover Fellowship because our website had not been updated. Then the Associated Press wrongly promulgated his earlier termination as a ‘firing.’ It was quickly piling up to be a huge mess!

In the immediate wake of this tragedy, Doris Stevens called to ask permission to arrange for a professional counselor to visit with our youth and church. Dr. Shara Atkinson of Lubbock facilitated one session with a large number of our youth on Wednesday then another open session for the church as a whole on Sunday. As a result of Doris Stevens’ welcomed intervention, we offered our people opportunities to heal and learn from this tragedy through forums for mutual expression, critical paradigms for better understanding, and practical handles for more healthy living. Though these were not meant to provide the totality of healing we may all need, they ensured our taking first steps toward healing in positive, constructive directions.

In addition, upon hearing Westover’s link to Michael published by the Associated Press, Eddie Allsup offered the services of Shane Skeens of IndigoSpin in Lubbock. By the time our Christmas Eve service began at 6 pm—the same day the story ran over the AP—Shane constructed an official statement for press release and amended our cantankerous website to convey apologies and explanation of our errors. He also coached me on speaking to the press and preparing our leaders should occasion arise. Because of Eddie Allsup’s initiative, we avoided a major public spectacle.

There are others who took an active role, including Rosemary Prumer and Todd Dyess.

Though I had ministered in the midst of tragic circumstances previously, this sort of heinous event was unique and the ramifications in our congregation and community much larger than I was prepared to handle on my own (and this amidst Christmas church events and a looming out-of-country family vacation). In the end, our congregation and its pastor were protected and cared for as a result of the immediate response of our conference leaders and the resources available by virtue of our connectional ministry. It is a proud moment for us as a conference and one that can never be overstated.

Many Blessings in Christ,
Rev. Jonathan Sims