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.

Laugh and Enjoy

Some of us remain so stressed out. We are like rubber bands constantly extended and waiting to break. And the people around us stand with guards up anticipating at any time we will lift the mixer blades of our life out of the bowl, while it is still running, and well, you know what happens. The people around us are treated to more of us than they want. So, what brought this on? Glad you asked! I frequently work through lunch and today while deep in thought the fire alarm suddenly broke into action – the sound reminded me of a church business meeting I attended as a young man where the atmosphere was filled with a lot of noise and chaos (little common sense, incidentally). So, what happened? One of the preschool kids touched what should only be touched in an emergency. At least the preschooler was in preschool. When I satisfied my curiosity I was a boy in grade school. When the sign says, "Alarm will sound if opened," IT REALLY WILL!

OK, so we know life can be unpredictable; even with the most innocent intentions things happen; and yet we move with the grace of a volcano people will notice if ignited, yes self included. But, we can also "take things in stride" as the saying goes. Today was a good day for me, it was stride day. And the people around me did not leave with more of me than they wanted!