Church

My wife just posted a wonderful blog about our amazing church family.  After reading it, I felt led to re-post it on my blog.  Her sentiments mirror mine....we feel so blessed.

I've been really sentimental about our church lately. Brad just finished his eighth year at Bosqueville. Our church was established in 1854 and yet Brad has now officially had the longest tenure of any of it's pastors.

It's funny being on this side of the fence when it comes to churches. Over the years, I've watched so many of my friends search for a church to call their home. They've church-shopped. I've listened as they've compared churches and listed the pros and cons of a particular church. This one has great worship, but no small groups; this one has amazing preaching but not a lot of young people; this one is really friendly but it's not very missional, and the list can go on and on.

Eight plus years ago Brad was in the middle of his Masters program with a lot of part-time pastoral experience but no full-time experience. We lived out at my grandparent's ranch and sometimes, if I was in the mood to take the long way home from work, I'd turn off Steinbeck Bend and drive all the way down Rock Creek Road, passing Bosqueville Baptist Church on my left. I always loved it's architecture, it's endearing steeple, it's white clap-board sides. One day, this church called us and wanted to interview Brad. A few weeks later, he preached for them in an evening worship service in a small church in Gatesville, Texas and afterwards we sat around a dinner table and talked about what it would be like for Brad to pastor their church.

We were not in a position to 'church shop'. We had a strong sense that the people we had met were genuine, salt-of-the-earth people. But that was about it, a sense, a hunch that things would be okay if we were to join this church. But largely it was just a leap of faith.

Eight years later, we're still here. All of the sudden I look around each Sunday and my heart feels so full. So full of memories, brimming with lessons learned and relationships treasured. We've laughed with these people, cried with these people, been hurt by these people, been healed by these people, been forgiven, been taught - and it's become family. The moments haven't all been easy, but looking back, I know they've all been sacred.

And I'm glad we didn't have the luxury to be in a position to be choosy. We just had to jump in and choose to accept, choose to love, choose to learn to get along.

I dressed the kids up this morning and Grant, Lucy, and I walked over to church. We stopped on the way to the nursery so Grant could hug Ms. Carolyn, one of his many surrogate grandmothers. In service, I clapped as we recognized Katie's 90th birthday - I want to be just like her when I grow up - wise, open-minded, hospitable, relevant, humorous. I sat in the pew in front of Nana and Terry. I listened to their voices behind me as we sang hymns, declaring how good God's love is. I passed the offering plate down the row till it reached Joseph and Tritne. Both were so young when we first came and they've grown so much - it's easy to see how God has put a hedge around them and is leading them. It's refreshing and exciting to watch. In front of me were Sarah and Natalie, who stole glances back at me and Grant. They came to our church from afar 2 years ago all the way from Russia. They burrowed their way right into our hearts and I treasure the little notes they draw for me and Lucy and Grant during service. I looked across the aisle to the Donaldson's. So many meals and conversations we've shared. Kyle was in grade school when we first came. This morning he played the guitar and helped usher me into the presence of God during worship. Lizzie had Maya in her lap. Little Maya who we prayed and prayed for, who every time I see her reminds me that God and God alone creates and sustains life, that God can surprise us in the most miraculous ways. Vic gave the offertory prayer. Whenever I see him, I am struck by one word - generosity. He is the most generous man I've ever met. I think that Jesus would really like that. Frank led us in prayer. He is the best cook. I made roast for lunch today with some of the venison he gave us last week. The same week the Bostick's shared 2 dozen fresh farm eggs with us. Tammy gave our closing word. She was brave to declare the words she did and I thought it was fitting she would end our service that centered around how rich God's love is towards us. As we walked outside toward home, the Merenda boys ran towards the parsonage to play basketball with Grant and take turns riding his bike. Jerome and Karan took all 4 of them in 2 years ago and our church has loved experiencing the energy that the lives of 4 little boys brings. Walking home I admire the neat piles of leaves stacked around our driveway. Danny was at our house yesterday. He mowed our yard and cleaned all the leaves up around the house. He and Joyce are a true comfort to Brad and me. We've relied on them for advice and guidance so many times. They give life to the word 'faithful'.

And I could go on and on and on, this was just a small sample from this morning. So many other faces and voices and stories and experiences fill my mind even now. Eight years ago, we took a more or less blind leap to join this group of people. And I hope that everyone gets to experience church as we have. Because church is where you learn about God and where you experience him through others. No church is perfect, but I wouldn't want a perfect church anyways.

A Silent Prayer Meeting

Every Wednesday night our church gathers together to pray.  I understand that "Prayer Meetings" are a fairly obsolete tradition that has lost its "place in line" within the modern evangelical church....even in our church attendance is sparse.  However, there is always a faithful remnant that returns each Wednesday again and again to pray as a family of faith. 

Yesterday evening I was in the sanctuary preparing for the meeting...gearing up for a sweet time of prayer with a few core members.  As I was turning on the lights and getting the heater cranked up, a well dressed man quietly walked in the front door.  Sheepishly, he asked if prayer meeting was going on tonight and I replied with an equally shy, "Yes, but there won't be many."  He noted that he did not care if anybody showed up...he only needed to see one person. 

At that comment, my "spiritual meter" was indicating something significant was about to happen.  He quietly walked to the front as if towards an unseen figure and I followed...respectful...as an assistant would lead a client to the "bosses office."  He sat at the Altar and tried to speak, but words were few...mostly tears flowed. I felt like the third wheel of  a holy meeting....respectfully, I sat and watched as he had a meeting with the divine.

His meaningful and needed encounter with God reminded me of the short poem by Elizabeth Rooney,

"Must we use words
For everything?
Can there not be
A silent flaming
Leap of heart 
Toward Thee?

The sacred wordless meeting was cut short by the arrival of the few faithful members who were unaware of the special moment. They walked in speaking of the days events...the weather and so on...
Respectfully, the stranger introduced himself and attended the word-filled prayer meeting.  He excused himself a bit early and left.  I led the remaining crowd in a closing prayer and we locked up the church and went home. 

Walking toward the house I realized that I was a part of two "prayer meetings."   I found myself longing to experience again the "one without words."  Perhaps I will try it on my own....perhaps I will try sending up "A silent flame, Leap of Heart Toward Thee."  I will let you know how it goes.

Advent Patience

Well, Advent has begun.  The church universal is now collectively yearning for the coming on the Christ child to be born on Christmas day.  What a wonderful time of year....a time that offers each believer the opportunity to reflect and meditate on the joy, peace, hope and salvation that Christ brought with him through his birth.

A wonderful lady in our church gave me a small book of Advent Meditations from the works of Henri J.M. Nouwen entitled the Lord is Near.  In it, there is a devotion for each day of Advent.  I have been taking some time out of my day to read and ponder each devotion...through it I have gained a new respect for Nouwen and his writing (Although, I have always been a big fan). 

Monday's devotion was particularly interesting and moving.  In Out of Solitude and based on Isaiah 40:9, Nouwen writes:

"A few years ago I met an old professor at the University of Notre Dame.  Looking back on his long life of teaching, he said with a funny twinkle in his eyes; 'I have always been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted until I slowly discovered that my interruptions were my work.'

That is the great conversion in our life:  to recognize and believe that the many unexpected events are not just distracting interruptions of our projects, but the way in which God molds our hearts and prepares us for his return.  Our great temptations are boredom and bitterness.  When our good plans are interrupted by poor weather, our peace of mind by inner turmoil, our hope for peace by a new war, our desire for a stable government by a constant changing of the guards, and our desire for immortality by real death, we are tempted to give into to a paralyzing boredom or to strike back in destructive bitterness.  But when we believe that patience can make our expectations grow, then fate can be converted into a vocation, wounds into a deeper call for deeper understanding, and sadness into a birthplace of Joy."

I think part of the glorious truth of Advent is that it calls us to a deeper patience...it asks us to dig deep down in the inner recesses of our being and uncover a patience that we never knew was there.  I see so many well meaning believers sink into what Nouwen calls a "destructive bitterness" because things aren't going the way they think it should go in this world or in their own lives.  But, Advent whispers to us to search for the "deeper understanding" and to allow the sadness in our lives to be tilled and prepared for joy to sprout and grow.

This Advent season, will you let God give you the gift of patience as you expect the coming of the christchild?  Remember, God typically comes to us in unexpected ways...when our patience is almost up.  Perhaps you are at the end of your patience in various walks of life...perhaps you are tired of waiting for that new job, your prodigal child to come home, your marriage to get better, your spouse to open up and really communicate with you or your work environment to get better....this Advent season allow the God of perfect timing fill you with a divine patience and a quiet strength to wait just a little longer.

A Father's Prayer

Our daughter, Lucy, turned one year old on September 22.  Her birthday has caused me to reflect on how quickly time passes...and how much of life I have lived without even realizing how fast the days were passing.  However, after I reflected on her birth, I thought of her future...

A few months ago Mary read me a prayer for her daughter that Ann Voskamp published on her blog.  As she read this thoughtful prayer I quickly realized that was my prayer for Lucy.  Ann puts in words what I could only feel.

God, clothe this girl in a gown of Grace,
the only dress that makes beautiful the style of Your spirit.
Nourish her on the comfort food of the Word,
Word, that makes her crave more of Christ, have hunger pains for Him.

Enclose her in communion with You
You, Love who makes her love, who folds her heart
into a roof that absorbs storms,
that makes her tongue speak only the words that make souls stronger.

May her vocation in this world simply be translation
Translating every enemy into esteemed guest,
Translating every countenance into the face of Christ,
Translating every burden into blessing

When it's hard to be patient...make her willing to suffer,
When it's ridiculous to be thankful...make her see all is grace,
When it's radical to forgive...make her live the foundation of faith,
And when it's time to work...make her a holy wonder.

May she be bread and feed many with her life and laughter,
May she be thread and mend brokeness and knit hearts,
May she be dead to all ladders and never go higher, only lower,
to the lonely, the least, and the longing
Her led of the Spirit to lead many to the Cross -
that leads to the tomb, wildly empty.

And raise me, Lord, from the deadness of my own sins
to love this beautiful girl like You do...

In the name of Christ who rose
and appeared first
to one of His daughters...
Amen

What is your word?

Three weeks ago after Sunday evening church, I kissed Mary, Grant and Lucy and traveled to San Antonio to spend one full week of writing on my doctorate paper.  I had been behind in my work, and the church graciously gave me a few days to buckle down and get some writing done.  I went down to San Antonio and my mom came up to Waco to help take care of the kids.  At the end of the week Mary and the kids came down to San Antonio and we spent some great family time together.   We went to Sea World, ate some of mom's cooking, swam...and Mary and I even snuck away to see a movie!

I love San Antonio, not just because I am from there, but because of the Mexican food.  Well, the Mexican food and the Alamo.  Strolling the streets of San Antonio, I was reminded of Elizabeth Gilbert’s now famous book Eat Pray Love.  In her book she says that every city has a word…just one word that perfectly describes the core soul of the city:   NYC:Achieve, Dallas:Status, San Antonio:Fiesta, LA: Succeed, Las Vegas:Indulge, Austin:Hip, Jerusalem:Holy, London:Elite, Paris:Love. Waco is…I don’t know…Wacky? Weird? Wonderful? Hot?

Gilbert’s assertion about cities having one word that perfectly defines them got me thinking...if every city has a word, then every person could probably be defined by one word...  

Strolling around the San Antonio I thought about what my word would be...it didn’t take me long, I knew it…the word that I wanted to define me.  The healthy word that I knew I was called to live out.  Generous -- that is my word.  I want to be generous.... I want to live a generous life….I want to be generous with my love, my time, my money, my gifts.  Even when I have only a little of all of those things, I still want to be generous.  I want my kids to look at their dad and say he was generous…I want my friends when they are in need to say, “lets call Brad, he is always helps”  I want my wife to always feel like I am generous in my love for her.  I want to be generous. 

I recognize there are many times when the small self takes over and that word does not define me at all.  But I believe the goal of an open- minded follower of Christ is to live more and more under the banner of his or her word.  So, what is your word?  What word were you created to live out?

 

Contemplative Prayer

These past few weeks I have been considering (and practicing) an ancient form of prayer aptly titled by most modern day spiritualists as "contemplative prayer."  Throughout the month of July, our church has been focusing on contemplative prayer and as a result it has really dominated my heart and mind.

I think it is pretty obvious to most people that our society maintains a very fast pace existence (it causes the Christian to wonder if Jesus would allow himself to be caught up in our fast pace world or if he would simply refuse to live at such a torrid speed).  The "information" age we live in demands that work gets done quickly and answers need to be presented in seconds.  Last night Grant (my son) wanted me to, "hurry up and go look that up online daddy."  Furthermore, the modern (or post-modern...how ever you want to define it) person lives engulfed by noise -- TV noise, cyber noise, cell phone noise...actual noise. There is so much noise that when he/she experiences a moment of silence it feels awkward and uncomfortable.

In stark contrast, contemplative prayer seeks silence and understands that there is something very sacred to the stillness.

Even the most casual student of the Bible quickly recognizes the frequent command to "be still" and "listen" peppered throughout both testaments.  At the transfiguration God tells noisy Peter to, "listen to his son."  On Mt. Horab Elijah hears God only in the stillness.   Contemplative prayer is an attempt to stay true to the call of God on our lives to stop our noise and our talking in favor of simply "being" with God.

Our family really enjoys spending time together outside.  Perhaps it is the "Celtic Christian in us"....but we have the best time being with each other in nature.  When our family spends time "outside" we all sense a deep connection with the world and with its creator (except when Waco has gone 45 days of over 100 degree heat).  Mary and I really try to take time to listen to God in nature.

The other day Grant and I were playing baseball outside.  I was trying to teach him how to hold the bat, how to stand and when to swing (granted, I don't really know how to do any of those things, but I figured I could wing it with a four year old).  I found myself getting frustrated because Grant wouldn't listen to me.  I slowly realized that he didn't want me to teach him anything, he just wanted to be with his Daddy.  He didn't want to waste time learning baseball skills, he wanted to spend time hitting a ball with his dad.

That night I thought about how our relationship with God is like Grant and I playing baseball.  We spend so much time talking to God, telling him what we want...even instructing him on what we think should happen.  Then, we get mad when we think he isn't listening to us.  All the while God just wants to be with us...he wants to spend time with us.  Too often we insist on aggressively being the sole activist and participant in the conversation.  The great novelist, Alexander Huxley wrote, "Uncontrolled, the hunger and thirst after God may become an obstacle, cutting off the soul from what it desires.  If a person would travel far along the mystic road, he/she must learn to desire God intensely but in stillness, passively, and yet with all his/her heart, mind and strength. "

I am more and more convinced that open minded believers who desire to follow Christ down a journey of love, grace and inclusion must become passively still in the presence of the divine God.  This allows us to center ourselves on our life path in and through Christ Jesus our Lord.  I have noticed that when I  "do all the talking" in my prayers, I am not contemplating the heart of God (love), nor am I listening to God speaking to me through creation, other people and above all the "Word that became flesh and dwelt among us".  Wayne Huxley said, "You will become what you think about all day long and those days eventually become your lifetime." 

Well, Grant has just walked into our room decked out in his medieval knight costume.  He has a sword in one hand, a football in another and a wide grin on his face.  He wants us to go outside and play football with him.  This time, I am not going to say a word about throwing mechanics...Today, I don't care if he grows up to be the next Troy Aikman, I just care about spending time with him.  I bet, if I am still and aware enough, God will show up while we are throwing the ball around.  I don't plan on saying a word...I think I will just let Grant's giggle and Lucy's babbling fill the air...I think I will just let God watch us while we all spend time together.  I will let you know how it goes.

Sometimes Life Just Isn't All That Good

I love this picture.  It was taken at the end of what our family calls “cousin camp.”  It is a time during the summer where all the cousins gather together at “the ranch” and Mary/Amy plan all sorts of fun events for the group.  The kids always have a great time, and this year was no exception – they painted, took a “magical safari” with their uncle/dad Brad, went to the Baylor pool, had a water balloon fight and ate homemade ice cream.  BUT...this picture was taken at the end of cousin camp.  You know what the “end” of anything good feels like – it is a mixture of sheer exhaustion, frayed nerves, and sadness that the fun is over.  Well, as so obviously illustrated in the photo, the kids were feeling every bit of tiredness and sadness that you could possibly feel. (I hope it doesn't say something about our kids that in the picture both of them look significantly more frustrated than the other three....)

One of most endearing traits of children is their unabashed willingness to wear their emotion on their sleeve - they simply aren’t afraid to tell you how they feel, for better or worse.  Sometimes, oftentimes, I wish Christians were more like that…I wish we were honest with other believers and even non-believers about how we really feel.  I wish we showed the world our brokenness and let them in on our struggles.  Celtic author Philip Newell said, “When we let the world inside our hearts and show them our struggles they will be even more amazed at the grace and love that flows much deeper and that is able to redeem us.” 

Instead, modern day evangelical conservative Christians have chosen to huddle up in their mega-churches with their smiling faces and angrily shout to the world that they need to come back to God and join the ranks of supposed eternally 'happy' believers.  And, they are shocked when “one of their own” leaders (too many to count?) is struck down by a moral failure? 

I submit that we try something different…let's try being authentic with each other and the world.  Let’s “become like little children” and be honest about how life can sometimes be down right unfair, and hard….and sometimes it just doesn’t go how we had planned it.  Let’s look straight into the camera of the world and unashamedly own whatever experience of life we are in and all of the emotions and feelings it causes.  Perhaps then, the world will see us for who we really are, sinners in desperate need of a loving God whose grace is more powerful than our brokenness and whose mercy transcends our hurt. Sometimes life is rough, sometimes it beats us up and we get tired and frustrated and sad...but that's okay.  We can show those emotions knowing that they aren't the end of the story, rather they point to a beautiful narrative that runs through the center of our hearts -- the love of God through Christ Jesus our Lord.