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.