Saying "I love you" to God

We just got a CD by Michael W. Smith called Worship. It's 5 years old, so we're behind the times, but it reminds me of a mix-tape for God. I'm showing my age here, but I'm sure the only thing that's changed today is that it's CD's instead of tapes. You make a tape for your girl/boyfriend with songs that tell them how much you care about them. This CD has the same feel, the same emotion, only it's about God.

At my last church, Cross of Life, we sang a lot of these songs in worship. It was wonderful because it was worship: we spent our time loving and adoring God, and the most profound way I did that was through that music. I can't hug God. I can hug other people in God's name, but I can't wrap my arms around God or give affection many of the normal ways we love other people. I can love God in lots ways, but those ways don't always get my full feeling and emotion out there like singing does. For some reason, singing my love to God is the most profound way I have found to pour my love out. Only I don't have a community worship in which to do that.

So for now I sing in the car. I sing along with these songs, and I let my love of God pour out. It's great to have a way to give voice to that emotion again. I look forward to the day when The River can gather and we can all pour out our hearts to God. Until then, I'll look forward to my time in the car a whole lot more.

I love it when a plan comes together...

Last night, that happened.
Last night, everthing came together.

I went to an event called “Preacher, Priest and Rabbi.” Now, I have been talking for a long time about ‘clusters’, and how these will be the main way we will gather in the new community. But until tonight, I hadn’t seen it done. I had heard about it, read about it, thought about it, prayed about it. But I hadn’t seen it, felt it, or known that it worked.

Now I know.

I know that it feels how I thought it would feel. I know that it works. I know that God’s vision for this community can become a reality through this structure. It’s the difference between visualizing something and seeing it happen. I know this will work. I know it because God has shown it to me.

Yesterday was a very, very good day.

Backdate August 14: A doctor in a graveyard

Yesterday we continued to clear out Beth’s church. For those who don’t know, my wife is also a pastor, and her church recently closed. It’s not as horrible as it sounds, but neither is it fun. We have worked together to help clean the building out.

It’s been interesting (to say the least) to do that at the same time that I am starting a new church community. Because every time I go to her building to do some work there, I am faced with the specter of my own failure. It looms over me with every piece of furniture I remove, every pile of ‘junk’ that I throw out.

The lesson of why Beth’s church closed is simple: no one else did anything. She was it, and that can’t work. Not in the long run. The lesson for me is that the success or failure of The River is not dependent on my ability to work hard or long. It is dependent on others taking on the responsibility of building the community, and my ability to empower, train and support them.

In the meantime, it’s been quite a humbling experience to do this at the same time. It is kind of like being a doctor in a graveyard, always faced with the possibility that this won’t happen. It’s scary, it’s invigorating, and it grounds me by reminding me of what I sometimes forget: that I can’t do this anyway. It’s too much. Only God can make this community thrive.

Being a doctor in a graveyard keeps me humble, focuses me on God, and reminds me that I’m not doing it, God is. Being humbled isn’t fun, but it’s necessary. God is in charge, God is in control, and I am not. And that's the way it's supposed to be.

backdate August 7: Patience, grasshopper

I’d love to tell someone about the vision of The River for the first time and have them start jumping up and down and saying “YES! YES! THIS IS FOR ME!” That would be great. Really, really great. But so far, that’s not the way it’s working. Folks who are interested are almost always pretty hesitant, and I can’t really blame them. They don’t know me, they don’t know the people, they don’t know much about this way of doing ministry…it’s completely foreign. Maybe that’s you- maybe you’re wading in The River for the first time and you like what you see, but you just aren’t ready to quite jump in yet. I get that. It only makes sense that there would be some hesitancy.

So I want you to know that it’s OK. That’s normal. Take your time. I’d rather have you take your time and do this right than jump in too early and getting right back out again. I desperately want to give everyone the freedom to take this at their own speed, to go at their own pace, and to only get in when they are ready. I know that’s how it’s supposed to work, and most of the time I can be patient.

But part of me is still hoping for that person to start jumping up and down and say “YES! YES! THIS IS FOR ME!” So, if you know them, please do me & my fingernails a favor and pass the word. Thanks!

backdate July 21: Is your pastor King or Judge?

Saw a sign that said “Is your pastor King or Judge?” My knee-jerk response was “Well, I’m neither!” I’m not sure what the point of the sign was, since (I assume) most of the folks that drive by it aren’t pastors, but it did make me think about what kind of pastor I want to be.

I want to be a pastor who helps others meet God and be transformed. Not from afar or in faceless masses, but in personal and tangible ways. I want to help others by sharing my story, my journey, and also by encouraging others to share their stories. There are so many stories out there; we all have them, and mine are no better or worse simply because they are mine. You see, I am really not all that special. Unique, but not all that special, because we are all special.

I want to be a pastor who shares the privilege of doing ministry with others.
I want to be a pastor who is willing to step aside when someone else is better at a given task.
I want to be a pastor who serves.

That’s the kind of pastor I want to be.

backdate June: Tasting God

Last night, we had a meal that went way beyond mere food. Normally, you bite a food, it has a taste, you chew and swallow. This food, first you smell it. Then you bite it, then you taste first one flavor, then another, then sometimes another, and even after you swallow sometimes another. And it is often made of combinations of things that, by themselves, really aren’t all that good. This was not just eating: it was a holistic experience of all the senses: sight, touch, taste, smell, and even (to a lesser degree) sound.

This was more than just eating- it was an experience.

That is how I want our time with God to be. Not just a meal we bite, taste, chew and swallow, where the goal is to get the food from the plate to the belly as quickly as possible. I want our time with God to be an experience, one to be savored, one to be lingered over, one that goes beyond whatever we are doing and helps us truly experience the holy ‘other’ that is God.

Spirituality should be more than just getting it down, it should be a life changing, multi-sensory experience. Because when you are on the river, the journey is the destination, and enjoying the river- God- is the point.

backdate June: When God Tears Down

I had a plan for a gathering that evening that I had spent a month putting in place. Between lunchtime and the start of that gathering at 6 pm, God had totally torn down my plan and replaced it with something I had never expected. I must say I didn’t like it. When I put hard work and time and effort and energy into something, I like to have it somewhat resemble the thing I worked toward. But it turns out that what I was planning simply wasn’t what God had in mind, and what God had in mind turned out to be a whole lot better. Because God took over and tore down what I had planned, something happened that was more amazing than I had ever imagined.

We don’t like it when God tears down, but it is always to build something better. It is painful when God is tearing down the thing you planned, the thing you built. It was painful for the ancient Israelites when they fled Egypt, it was painful for them when they were beaten in the Jeremiah, and it was painful when Jesus disciples watched their beloved leader suffer & die on a cross. But Jesus Christ rose from the dead. The Israelites returned. God brings life from death. Tonight, God tore my plan down, and because God did that, a church was born. And even though it hurt a little the way it happened, I am very, very glad.