Fathers and Time

I’m thinking a lot about fatherhood these days. Could be the Baby Dedication this Sunday inspiring my thoughts; or the entertainer at last night’s annual Chamber of Commerce dinner as he talked about his family life and children, including a difficult divorce; or maybe it was for the first time seeing my oldest grandson play basketball last weekend; or the picture posted on facebook today, of the son of a friend, in a basketball pose serving as the perfect highlight for a poster; or remembering today is the anniversary of the tragic death of the son of good friends; or still yet the book I’m reading in prep for a class for fathers this spring.

In reading the book Raising a Modern Day Night by Robert Lewis, which will serve as a guide for the class, he invites appreciation for the value of time. No father is perfect, some less so than others perhaps, but there is no replacement for the time a father gives to his children. My own dad has his faults. And we had moments as with any father and son when we stood at opposite poles. His stubbornness found an equal in the persistence of his son. But, despite the imperfections I have recognized my entire life he gave me his time, without regret or distraction.

I think of the fathers who never had the privilege of returning from a battle field to invest time in their children. I think of the domestic tragedies in which in a moment families are ripped apart and a father longs to erase the chapter telling the story of a son lost to a drunk driver. Dads such as these serve as the backdrop for every father to be reminded they remain still able to give time to their children others cannot.

Dads you’re not perfect! But, your children don’t need your perfection. Everything in their world already does or will condition them to expect people to make mistakes, including you. But, they need your time! There is no substitute! Put on your masculinity and have a tea party with a three year old little girl, or play catch with a six year old even if it means repeatedly chasing the ball as it rolls under the car. And don’t do it just once a week. That’s not time, that’s concession to the role of fatherhood, not being a father. There’s no substitute for time. Your time!

Tents to Castles

This year the ministry staff at Westhill elected to allow the theme for 2012 to encapsulate the new vision we have been moving toward – “Experience Life on the Hill.” This vision has turned toward the Spirit as the source of movement in body life and personal life, and acknowledges to truly embrace the work of the Sprit there must be receptivity to God’s will. I know this should be a given. If we are believers it means we are open to God. But, the reality is tents of sojourners become the castles of the captive. We become comfortable with the surroundings of our faith and lose sight of the role of searching and uncertainty. Yet, it was this searching and uncertainty leading to the sojourning faith with which we awoke each morning filled with the vitality of life. Can you still feel the air filling the lungs? Some of us can, but for others it is a foreign language. All we have known has been the ceramic tile and hardwood floors of the settled.

A tenet of the Restoration movement of which we claim a history, has been to value searching for truth and embracing the important. It is not uncommon for someone to approach me after a sermon and say, “I’ve never heard that preached in a Church of Christ before.” They intend it in a complimentary not pejorative sense so no offense taken, but I’m not always sure what they mean. It happened last Sunday after a sermon on giving. We’re good on giving in Churches of Christ right? We know how to strike the right balance between silence and appeal. Again I’m not exactly sure what was meant, but I know it tapped into a faith value, and was rooted in Scripture, at least in their opinion and certainly mine; which they were thrilled to hear proclaimed from my pulpit, a Church of Christ pulpit.

Truth is I don’t go into the week looking to speak a word to impress people it came from my pulpit! I go into each week searching for a word from God for the people. Short of sincerity such an ambitious statement should be heard with arrogance I suppose, but for me it is true. I’m not looking to excuse behavior I’m looking to be shaped by the identity of Christ, as I speak and serve as a voice in God’s hands to call others into a deeper relationship with God. My finding is such discovery-preaching, or to flip the analogy to the hearer and think in terms of discovery-hearing tends to call people out of their castles and back into tents. We like the idea of sojourning when thinking of the ultimate destiny relative to the here and now, but have less affection if it means actually trading in the tile and wood. Imagine a church filled with people who have made this trade. Imagine what body life would be like. Imagine worship! Imagine ministry! Imagine its impact on the community. Come “Experience Life on the Hill” with those who live in tents not clinging to their castles. 

Fellowship of the Spirit

In my youth I learned we (meaning our church and by implication other Churches of Christ) believe in the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then there was an unspoken shhh, relative to the Spirit. Adding to the mystery was the prevalent translation of the word for Spirit at the time, “ghost.” So we believe in a ghost, I thought. Did he resemble “Casper the friendly ghost,” but with a more serious tone? Shhh.

As I began to preach an older preacher once quantified the shhh, I had known, saying “there are two subjects I will not preach on.” I’m not sure what one was, but the other was the indwelling of the Spirit. He was apparently informed about the shhh.

I made a habit of collecting bible literature at each church I visited, when I was in Jr. High and Sr. High; when going to the occasional Christian bookstore; and even once spent food money on bible study material while attending a church workshop. Amidst the material I found one booklet on the Holy Spirit. I don’t recall what it said, but my curiosity was piqued by its novelty.

Spirit, Ghost, shhh. Enough said! Any serious question about his role invited a clear answer. “I don’t know. There is just not much in scripture on the Spirit. But, we believe Him!” “Absolutely!”

In retrospect if I grew up in a Trinitarian church it was more by unquestioned acceptance it was so. A bystanders perception would more likely have labeled us binitarian (God the Father and God the Son). And looking back I wonder to what extent our fellowship was weakened by a lack of influence on the Spirit. To what extent have we incurred a tendency to split and divide over a myriad of disagreements? To what extent have we been less effective in missions? To what extent have we been to impassionate about our faith?

So, the challenge before us is to overcome the encumbrance behind us by noting the discussion within scripture on the Spirit, to incorporate Spirit language into our faith practice, and to invite the Spirit into our lives. Our lives are to be filled with the Spirit, and to the extent we enjoy the influence in our ignorance and due to God’s grace how might our faith change if such influence came through active acknowledgement?

Stop and Laugh

Is there enough laughter in your world? This past week the move toward Christmas has signaled the arrival of Salvation Army bell ringers at the doors of Wal-Mart and Kroger. And every one of them dons a smile to go with the word of good cheer. That’s not laughter, but it is just shy of it. By appearance I doubt it would take much to rattle the lungs.

What’s the point? The world is too uptight. We grown about wars a sea away, but we live in a sea of conflict where we are, at home, work, maybe even church. I cast my vote to relax a little, imitate the bell ringers, and smile a lot, a whole lot.

If we are serious about a long and healthy life then we should be a little more serious about being a little less serious. If we want our children to have a happy childhood then we need to give it to them by showing them how to laugh at ourselves, smile in the face of failure, and lift our chins in the wake of disappointment.

We laugh too little! Not in my house! Not in my office! Of course there are times when the call is for a tear, quiet, reverence, but the sanctity of the spirit breaking into a joyful laugh is but a moment away. Does it make us irreverent, immature, or unrealistic?  I think it means we are happy!

As Christians we are in the world but not of the world we say. That does not mean we are licensed to hold the posture of frown as if it were the Divine default for the righteous. 

A Cold Night's Reflection

Computer screen up, warm house providing a cushion from the cold, and sitting in reflection! The Christmas lights and garland adorning the mantle, our mantle; it is so great to be in our own home after leasing for three years; and a little coffee, tepid temperature, still in the cup. Yes, I am prepped to scribe thoughtful and worthwhile words. You judge the worth naturally!

Every week has a theme, some more poignant than others; and this week thoughts of our tendency to cling to comfort zones, on a wide range of issues, has arisen at several normal daily junctures. By “our” I am thinking of my own heritage of faith. We embrace the Scriptures as divinely inspired words, but do we then take away from it the positions and pronouncements we carry into it?

What does it mean to be open to the Lord’s lead? What does it mean to be convicted by the Scripture? What does it mean to describe ourselves as learners? How serious are we about being challenged each time we open the Scripture? Is it really possible to change what you think?

As I currently preach through the Book of Hebrews which presents difficult Greek; and deep and at times illusive ideas, I find myself reading it over and over looking both for new meaning and a creative way to perform the homiletical (preaching) task. At moments I have more questions than answers and realize what I have to deliver is anything, but a nicely orchestrated message with closure at each juncture. It is as if I will go into the pulpit, open the doors in the minds of the listeners, and step out of the pulpit leaving the doors still open and a cold breeze drifting into the room. How can people possibly be satisfied with that?

Tonight I completed a book asking me to think thoughts which are not comfortable and imagine perspectives altering perceptions I have long held. I’m not resentful toward the author for the disturbance, but I could certainly have lived without it. Yet the question is not about living without it, as in survival. It is about spiritual growth, stretching the heart and mind. That’s the problem with comfort zones they keep you homebound when you could get out and enjoy the outdoors. Do a little yard work. Visit a friend. Jog around the block. Homebound is the experience of the aging, but it is not the preferred journey.

Bottom line, I need to read the Scripture to be transformed and be willing to step out in faith instead of staying home in fear! The goal is not comfort, but conviction; it is not in a sense security, but adventure.

Noticing

This was service weekend around our church. Many of us painted a house on Saturday, others delivered updated church directories to homebound members on Sunday, and still others spread out to sing at 3 care facilities in town Sunday afternoon. What a weekend! A great weekend! Weekends like this happen too seldom for churches. They are events we have to work in the schedule. But, when they do occur we always walk away feeling good, talking about the event, and someone invariably says “we should do that more often.” True!

This has been an incredible summer, all summer, for the Westhill family. The sag of summer seems to have passed us by so far. Families coming. Families looking. And hopefully families finding. And what they find I trust is a church striving to live out a Christian faith which is real, filled with grace, hopeful, providing a place for families and individuals to thrive spiritually, and for those in need to receive a fresh start. This has been an incredible summer. Record hot temperatures while a topic of conversation, has slowed down little, actually nothing.

As we look toward the fall plans are under way to strengthen and expand our children’s ministry, build-up other ministries, and I find myself working through the fall with messages to be preached. In all our planning and in all out events we are inspired by what we are taking the time to notice – God is at work! We have been called to witness the shaking of Divine presence waking us to the reality God is moving and transforming lives. And in response we stand and applaud. God is worthy of applause! And it is natural for us to applause! So put your hands together and let the gentle roar echo upwards.

Christians and Happiness

Can one be Christian and not happy, or is one a synonym of the other? And further if we profess to be Christians and are not happy where is the breakdown?

Could You

So we talk about the joy of giving, but what if you went the entire season without buying anything for yourself and all gift-giving going one way – toward others. Not a single experience of exchange or even a negotiated quid pro quo. Could you do it? And would it be a great Christmas, or lame one? Weigh in! Be honest!

The Unspoken

Perhaps less so now than at one time, but there was a time when the topic of the Holy Spirit received little press for many. So, here is what I am wondering, does avoiding the topic of the Spirit hurt the identity or mission of the church? Perhaps it doesn't given that the Trinity works in concert. On the other hand could it be we cannot be fully who we are designed to be if we neglect a full engagement of the Spirit? Topics on the table! What do you think?

Honest with the Season

If we need a holiday to remember to say "Thank You" and carve out time for family how deep does our appreciation go? Shouldn't gratitude be a routine part of life? And let's face it, it seems like Thanksgiving is becoming more of a pause between us and "Black Friday!" The point is on the table. Weigh in!

The Season - roundtable

As Christian if we want to maximize this time of year for preaching the Gospel two thoughts come to mind: first, are we currently doing it; and two what would it require for us to raise the banner for Christ as this year draws to a close. Are we missing the opportunity by not taking up more bells to ring and offering more Christmas plays to attend? Or, if we invest our efforts in those activities do we miss more important opportunities?

Reminisce about the season. What are your thoughts?

Jesus: Republican, or Democrat

Riding to the office this morning the news indicated today was going to be busy on Capitol Hill. Having moved beyond the political season we now watch the politicians positioning themselves for power. This leaves me wondering if Jesus were to walk the political streets today which party would He be affiliated with? Would He make the Republican events, or the democratic? Would He long for an Obama re-election, or two years out, a defeat? All this of course presumes He cares about political parties and strategy formatting positions, speeches, and campaigns.

We turn on the news, or more likely catch a quick story when we start up our computer, and fidget nervously, or smile uncontrollably. Yet, I wonder which party would Jesus carry the banner for, or would he be passing out tea?

Wondering

OK so here is a thought for reflection. Feel free to wade into the water of thought. What does it mean to "speak where the bible speaks and be silent where it is silent?" Does this mean the same for thing for everyone? Do we define the phrase in a way which keeps us comfortable? Is there anything wrong with that?

Into the Water

I'm in the midst of preaching a series on baptism which I have described as an anecdotal look. Why anecdotal? Because it seems we approach the doctrine as a point of contention and I wanted to lead a rediscovery of the beauty of the experience. So, we are integrating stories from Scripture on baptism, doctrinal teachings from Scripture on baptism, and video stories of church members telling the story of their own baptism. In the final analysis perhaps it is more of an emotional journey through an experience historically at the heart of church life.

I wonder how many of us remember our baptism. Who were the people present? Who influenced us to make the decision? And to what extent does our baptism story continue to shape us? Perhaps it is in periodically recounting our own story which may not only influence others for Christ, but keep us faithful. Have you told your story lately?

Rich Faith/Rich Church

Ok, so here is a question for reflection – What makes for a rich faith? Is it doing the right things? Knowing the right things? Being in the right places? Having the right associations? Is it possible "right," while serving as the sum for religious living, still fails to fill the emptiness in the soul? To put it yet another way – Can we walk the walk and talk the talk expected of Christian conduct, but be a shell of faith with no real heart?

I know, I know we look at our society much less world and see humanity growing less God-centered (as in Christ centered) and say the problem is out there with too little Christlike conduct and lifestyle. But when do we look within at those openly professing a Christian connection and ask about the depth and sincerity of our faith. I remember one of those popular bible tracts (short pieces of writing, just a few pages, in booklet form and hanging in church foyer tract racks) when I was a kid whose premise was sincerity was not enough. I get it, pursuing right understanding is very important. Agreed! But sincerity is important, and too often it is relegated to the sphere of secondary concerns. But, check the prophet Isaiah, note the demonstrations in Amos, and listen to the Christological march through 1^st century geography, and sincerity finds elevation to a primary spot.

And the richness is not simply about personal faith, but also about church. What makes a church a rich place to be? Rich faith and rich church? How do you define someone with a rich faith? What does a church which is a rich place to be look like? What do you think?????

Left Me Behind

Sitting on the couch wondering when the dinner would cook itself Carolon and I finally decided to let a local restaurant do the honors. As we went through the outside doors into the lobby a lady who obviously had trouble with her feet, from the fact she was walking slowly and wearing house shoes out to dinner, passed in front of us to catch up with the rest of the family. Actually we stepped back to let her pass and as she did she jokingly remarked they left me behind. What she said in jest may reveal a bit of truth. If not for her at that moment it certainly does for many of us. I know Left Behind has been the rage for many in pop-eschatological theology in recent years. (Now there is a word worth coining, "pop-eschatology.") The point is not sudden departure out of the world, but the feeling of lagging behind people in this world.

Do you ever feel left behind? Ask a recent college graduate how it feels to be in no serious relationship and asked to join one wedding party after another of college roommates. Ask a draftsman who has spent a lifetime using tried and true techniques and suddenly finds them self competing for jobs with younger draftsmen who know the latest software. Ask a competitive heart who in their mid-twenties following a knee injury is no longer able to play competitive ball. Where is the fun in being left behind? And yet where is the advantage in letting it depress us?

I am competitive. I don't like to lose at basketball, or scrabble. My DNA says winning may not be everything, but it certainly has advantages over losing. That being said, when we do find our self pulling up the rear with little we can do to change it, why let it stress us out. The truth is the lady lagging behind was probably the one paying the bill so there is no way the rest of the family is going to move too far ahead.

New Roads

Two weeks ago our grandson Ty was diagnosed with type 1 Diabetes as many of our family and friends know. And this weekend Jeff, Ty's dad, brought the kids to the grandparents to give Ty's mom a well-deserved weekend break. Frankly April deserved a break and the grandparents deserved a weekend with the grandkids, at least that is our story. This weekend brought changes to our typical routine when family comes in town. Every meal was planned, great attentiveness was placed on every activity we did, and the essence of life frankly took on an immediacy we tend to take for granted. Success for me came when I took Ty to the church FLC to play and after an hour and a half Ty checked his blood sugar (yes at the age of 5 he checked his own blood-sugar) and it was well-with the safe range.

As church ended this morning I was asked how Ty was doing and I responded "he is adjusting well." But, I also made a confession which I have thought about repeatedly over the past two weeks. I think at one point I even mentioned it to Carolon. In the past when I heard someone was diabetic I always felt sympathy for what they had to deal with, but really didn't appreciate the challenge. How could I? Now I see the blood sugar testing up close. Now I think about insulin shots and the necessity of eating within 15 minutes. Now afternoon and bed time snacks are more than the cravings of a spoiled appetite. Never have I felt a greater investment in finding a cure for diabetes. I feel guilty over the cavalier spirit of the past. And am in need of forgiveness from those who never knew my compassion failed to reach the feigned depths. And as I stand among your ranks I do so feeling unworthy, but nevertheless vociferously desirous of each every life receiving the freedom of a day when once again the pancreas independently performs the function of life.

All that being said, a word of thanks to Westhill friends who as we finished a meal at Chili's stopped by our table to tell Ty they had both been diagnosed with type 1 when they were children. Thanks friends! I know it made Ty feel good just to receive the attention, but speaking for the grandparents we needed to hear your story.

Let it Snow

What a scene! Flakes of snow competing for air space as the warm earth began to lose ground to accumulating snow. I suppose for those who live in areas of the country where snow is a seasonal obstacle observing such grace becomes so common as to be unimpressive. For those of us who experience it infrequently, we are almost spell bound by the phenomena. A new record for a day of snow they tell us, and now the snow fall becomes more than spellbinding to observers, it becomes a stat for the books.

I suppose a preacher is expected to come up with a great spiritual illustration for the snow fall, but all I have is appreciation for the change of pace to my life and the beauty of a snow fall I rarely see. In fact in the years we lived in Houston the only real coating of white occurred the first Christmas our grandson was born. Strange isn't it, now the snow fall takes on the life of memories of a little boy I love, and then there are the memories of childhood growing up along the Red River when mom and dad would listen to the weather to see if the coming moisture would be more in the form of snow, or halting ice. And how could we ever forget the icy, snowy December in eastern Oklahoma; when I walked to a neighbor's house and borrowed a four wheel drive truck so we could make our way to the hospital, across the Arkansas River, in advance of our little girl's arrival. Spending all night anticipating labor seemed a better option than in-transit delivery. And then there was the January our son was born in the midst of a snow fall.

I sit and watch the grace of a snow flake fall and remember the grace of memories lived.

 

Refreshing

After a hot summer, the persistent rain has me looking around for Noah. Wherever he is, is precisely where I want to migrate. Strange how the rain, though often a synonym for a sad face, or mellow spirit at best, can also serve to deliver moments of refreshment. I've found myself not only enjoying it, but anxious for its return during the intermittent breaks. And I've noticed the same lift in others.

As a kid, the rain was the signal to make boats to float in the water running along the street, or wade through the ditches filled with rain (I know sounds unsanitary. It's amazing what we can live through when no one us how bad it is for us.). It was the time to break out a game of ultimate football, which resembled mud wrestling. And it was a time to lay the normal routine aside, stay home if you could, and let the world slow down. Some things you don't out grow. Anyone for a little football?

Reconnections

At noon Carolon and I sat down for lunch with a young woman who when last we saw her twenty years ago was a teenage young lady in our youth group. Twenty years with no contact and then I received an email inquiring if I was the former youth minister at her church (The one she attended as a teen. Now she lives half way across the country). Through today's conversation we discovered locating us started with a google and then a flurry of phone calls, first to a funeral home where my name had appeared in an obituary as the minister of record in a memorial service, and then to several churches in central Texas where she recalled Carolon and I had previously worked.

A few weeks ago she made plans to come to the area to visit a friend and we made plans to meet for a meal. "On the Border" became the host for a special reunion. She had the same smile, same bubbly spirit, and same sincere attitude. Twenty years had passed, she now had a family, our kids are grown, and yet there was something warmly familiar about the moment. She introduced us to the friend she was visiting, a vibrant spirited young Christian woman; and by the end of the lunch we were all hugging goodbye, anxious for the next connect.

It must have taken 30-40 minutes to order and four, or five return trips by the waiter saying, "Are you ready to order yet? Take your time, there is no rush." Finally, we paused long enough to dispense with the choosing so we could reignite the conversation. One of the most beautiful moments for Carolon and I came as we listened to her tell her faith journey. Listening to her tell about her faith, her Christian family, her bible study, love of worship, and church sent us away grateful beyond description at a God of grace.

Ministry leaves us with so many moments, and situations where we wonder. It feels good to know! And suddenly past memories open the door to future ones.