Playing and Passing it on

Last night I was reminded of a story from my youth. Really there was no good reason to be reminded of this story, but I remembered it with a smile and I have so few of them I felt it was worth sharing.

When I was little and we would go to visit my Grandmother in Mexico, MO. When we got there I would immediately go next door to visit Kenny, the son of the next door neighbor. He was about six or seven years older than me and we would play. We'd play football or tag or just go to the park across the street. He made me my first pair of stilts and watched me bruise my knees and elbows until I finally found my balance. Success was sweet. It was a good time and what was fun was that this was an older guy letting me hang out with him. Good fun.

Eventually he got older. This meant girls and cars and a job and less time for me. I was sad, but I was getting older and I understood. I was kind of sad, but I understood. That was when I met his little cousin Matt.

I was about six or seven years older than Matt and when I would come to town we would play together. We'd play football or tag or just go to the park across the street. More than anything else though, we'd wrassle around a lot. I'd let him crawl all over me, try out new holds and find his balance and his strength. It was a good time and what was fun was that he found an older guy who was letting him hang out. Good fun.

And he became an All-State Wrestler in Missouri.

When we were in our twenties, I was sitting on his grandfather's front porch, Kenny's front porch so long ago, and he told me how much fun it was playing so long ago. He asked why I did it. He asked what he could do to pass it on. I told him about Kenny. I asked him if he did the same thing with a little brother or cousin or neighbor and he said yes, he did. I told him he passed it on without even knowing it. Shoot, I passed it on and didn't know I was passing it on. I was just playing.

So here's the thing. Be in the moment. Play. You may be passing on something you don't even know you're passing on. As for Kenny, was he passing it on or did he start a ball rolling that may still be rolling today? The only answer I have for this is yes, and I'm glad he did.

Pastor Paul's July 12 Federated Flash Article

Dear Friends in Christ,

Chris Baker is a student at Garrett Evangelical Seminary in Louisville. He wrote this for his Facebook page and it is currently making the rounds on the interwebs. I haven’t found anyone who has said this in such a sound theological manner so instead of trying, I will use his words. To clarify, derailment is the act of using a counterargument or counter assertion to derail a conversation from the original point:

I saw yet another ‪#‎AllLivesMatter‬ derailment this morning, and it made me want to scream. Or, rather, it made me want to scream this: 

‬‬
When, in the Beatitudes, Jesus says, "Blessed are the poor," you don't shout "Everyone's blessed!" When Jesus says "Blessed are the hungry," you don't shout "Everyone's blessed!" When Jesus says, "Blessed are those who mourn," you don't shout "Everyone's blessed!" You don't, I hope, because you understand that Jesus declares these people blessed precisely because they never have been. Their society never blessed them. The proverbial powers that be never blessed them. Their neighbors never blessed them. No one blessed them. No one considered them blessed, worthy of blessing. Their lives, in other words, never mattered.

I hope, too, that you understand what happens next in the Gospel of Luke. The blessings are followed by curses. Woe to the rich, who have enriched themselves at the expense of the poor. Woe to the full, who have engorged themselves at the expense of the hungry. Woe to those who are laughing now, in the face of the grief and misery of others. Jesus has flipped the script. Out is in. In is out. Down is up. Up is down. And ‪#‎BlackLivesMatter‬ precisely because they haven't, and in your derailment they still don't. Biblically and theologically speaking, that's some dangerous ground you're occupying.

Now for what he doesn’t say, all lives don’t matter. He’s saying that according to the Gospel of Luke, the powerless will be blessed and those who benefit at the expense of those who are oppressed, woe unto them. Ready for the big curse, if that includes some police, if that includes some politicians, if that includes some corporations (who are “persons” under the law) then so be it. Woe unto them.

I hate to bring up the Jackson 5 here, but this is the problem of “one bad apple.” Sometimes all it takes is one person to cause a broad brush to be used. It’s one of the greatest horrors, but it’s true. Pastors understand this too. With sexual abuse, financial abuse, and other abuses of power I can be suspect.

In the Beatitudes, Jesus blesses those who have never been blessed. Those who have blessed themselves, well, woe unto them. I thank God for the Messiah who has blessed us so that we may be a blessing.

I am not here to curse woes unto people who have done well. The nation of Israel was blessed to be a blessing. Through Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah, the Christ, we have been grafted into that vine. We have been blessed, but if we are not a blessing then Christ will ask what we have done with our blessing. This is a question worth asking. This is what our society needs to ask.

Oh, and maybe when the people who have not been blessed are, that will be a blessing to all people.

See you in Church, Paul

We pray for police, military, and all others who voluntarily put themselves in harm’s way in service to others.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

John 15:13

Jesus Wept, Lazarus Laughed, Megan Died, and as for me...

This Sunday's lectionary reading was the raising of Lazarus from the dead. This passage has many wonderful pieces and images, but the most famous is found in the King James Bible at John 11:35. You know it too, "Jesus wept."

Pastor Kemper Huber at St. Andrew Presbyterian Church in Longview, Texas preached a wonderful sermon using the Eugene O'Neill play "Lazarus Laughed". The link provides a synopsis of the show, but here are some highlights from the sermon:

• Lazarus returned
• People asked what it was like to have died
• Lazarus laughed
• He told them death was like life, but fuller, more bountiful
• He continued to laugh.

That became the hallmark of the show, Lazarus laughed in the face of all danger. He had died, what could scare him next? Nothing! In the face of overwhelming odds, in the face of certain death; there was nothing to worry about anymore. This caught on in the household of Lazarus and all throughout Bethany. "Death, where is thy sting?" Yeah, it's all gone.

This wouldn't do for the Roman Prelate. When death and fear of death are your weapons and suddenly there is no more fear of death, your biggest weapon is gone. Lazarus was sent to Rome to go before Caesar.Caesar threatened to have Lazarus killed. You can guess what happened next. Caesar burned Lazarus at the stake. You know what happened the whole time. The show ends with the "most important man in the world" bested by a laughing Jew.

Jesus wept, Lazarus laughed.

Kemper tied the theme of the show, Lazarus laughing at death with Jesus telling the world "Fear not." Christ conquered death. Lazarus shows us in John 11 and Eugene O'Niell shows us in the dramatized version of what happened next. In all of these situations, death is powerless. Christ saves us from mundane death. It's gone, hallelujah!

There was one problem with this. I have a the problem with the sermon, and a problem with the show. It's not a problem with Kemper's theology or even with the play, it's a problem with sin.

There is (at least in some circles) fate worse than death. There are times in the life of some people when "it" (whatever "it" may be) becomes so overwhelming that these people see the sweet release of death preferable to the cold hard existence of life. The people who say "Life's a bitch and then you die," yeah, those people.

Some people decide to get off the train early. The ones who get off before the final stop commit suicide. Death, the bountiful life after this painful life is so very seductive.

Jesus wept, Lazarus laughed, Megan died.

Those of you who have followed this blog know who Megan is. If you don't this link tells more about her and about a much younger me. I remember wondering how horrible Megan felt that she would take her own life. I gave thanks that I never felt that way and prayed I never would. Then six months ago, my world fell apart and I had an idea of how bad she felt. I did not want to feel like I felt another day, another minute, another moment. I knew this was a permanent solution. For those who would add "to a temporary problem," I would invite you to "enjoy the freefall" and tell me it doesn't seem like an idea worth considering.

This is the suicide issue when it comes to the "bountiful life" of death, it's seductive. The pain of life, pain which is too much to carry, is gone. All that's left is new life. Laughter. Yes, Jesus weeps, but Lazarus laughs. It's not healthy. It's not right. It's pretty bad for everyone left behind... but that guilt trip isn't your problem.

While considering all of this another Bible story came to mind, Job. Job's wife, after witnessing the calamity of their life together, suffering the same losses except for the physical boils, finally said "Curse God and die." She told him to commit suicide by use of the Lord. But Job was faithful.

Job's wife chose the sweet release of death for her husband. Job chose a  life to a faithful God despite the horrors of the moment.

Jesus wept, Lazarus laughed, Megan died, and as for me...

As for me, I've gotten a better medical diagnosis. I'm working hard to stay healthy. I'm eating better, exercising and working. I see a counselor and I see a Psychiatrist. I do the medical therapy and I do the talk therapy. I have good days and bad days. I have more good days and my bad days aren't anywhere as bad as they were even six months ago.

Life is far from perfect, but it is better than it was a year ago, far better. Getting better is a process, getting well is a dream, maybe even a pipe dream. Better is a goal. And I do all of this praising my savior who makes it all possible.

Jesus wept, Lazarus laughed, Megan died, and as for me... I am a better man than I was before I knew all of these things. Praise God!

Faith and Mental Health

Earlier this week I met with my spiritual director. He said that he read my mental health blog. I asked him what he thought of it. He asked why there was not mention of God. I was struck dumb. It took a moment to come up with the answer "That blog was a clinical approach to my illness and hospitalization." It was quickly followed by, "Now I need to write the spiritual side."

Here's the single most important thing I went into the hospital knowing. I have hope in the Lord our God. Eight words, that's what I got. Let me elaborate.

I had been unemployed for over ten months, and stretched five months of severance over six and a half months. I didn't know how we were going to pay for our insurance, and money literally arrived on the porch. We got kicked out of where we were living, and another place opened up.

Was I thankful for God? Yes I was. Every day. At the same time I was so miserable I couldn't add one and one without consulting an accountant.

Marie was sick some days and on other days not quite so sick. In the meantime she did everything she could to keep me from falling apart and moving forward--pack boxes, prepare my Pastor Information Form, revise my resume, go to the store, yada, yada, yada.

Was I thankful for her. Yes I was. Every day. Did I show it? Certainly not well. I showed annoyance pretty well though. (Did I mention I was sick? Depression is insidious. I didn't know how big of a jerk being bipolar made me, only she does.)

If there's any good news; the self medication I gave up twenty-some years ago stayed in my bag of tricks not to come out.

My world crumbled around me and the only ideas I had were really, really bad ones. I was able by the grace of God to hold on until I got to my counselor's office. She got me into the hospital in Shreveport.

Now, if you have ever been in counseling for depression, you have probably heard this question: "Do you feel helpless and hopeless?" I've heard that question a million times, and I finally heard it properly and finally answered it aloud in the most accurate way for me.

I said, "I feel helpless. But I don't feel hopeless. In my faith I have hope. I have hope in the Lord my God."

How many times have I read David's Psalms of Lament? How many times have I read about the plight of Joseph? How many times have I read the Exodus story (and how many times has that story been adopted as a model for oppressed people all over the world)? How is there anything but hope in the cross and the resurrection?

Now, that my head is clear, I see that hope far more clearly too. I see now that hope is meant for me. I see that it is present in my life. I can even more clearly see those who are willing to help... those with whom God has blessed me in this life.

It's funny to say what I have now is a new life in Christ, but it truly is. Like everyone else I have had ups and downs, some of those downs pretty deep. Like anyone else who has depression my downs have real depth. In each of those times I have thanked God for saving me, for bringing me back. This time though it's different. I thought I had been broken before but I have never known brokenness like this. Oh, I thought I had, but it wasn't even even close.

Now, about two months later, the healing has begun. To date I feel great, literally never better. I have never been more clear. For that I thank God. In my fresh clarity I thank God for Marie, I thank God for all of the clinical help I have received. I truly thank God for all of our friends. We have gotten help, in financial, housing, other tangible, and especially prayer support from our friends from coast to coast. It's not that there are too many to list, but many have given anonymously and I honor that. Just know I will not forget.

Yes, some days will be better than others. Yes, I will have to be aware about how my meds are working because they may not always. I don't want to be unrealistic. At the same time I don't want to look under every rock for a rattlesnake just because I saw it happen once. I just have to pay attention to the sound of the rattle as I walk the path of life.

That is why I have hope in the Lord our God. Saved by the life and work, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, indwelled by the Holy Spirit. By the grace of God I say Amen

Mental Health

A funny thing happened last month. Actually, it wasn't so funny. It was pretty scary. Life caught up with me. Life caught up with me and I didn't know what to do next. Actually that wasn't quite true... I had a "good idea" of what to do next, but having taken a class in crisis counseling I knew what I was thinking wasn't a "good idea."

I guess there had been signs of depression going on for a long time. I had found several different ways to deal with it over the years. I could go on for several paragraphs and describe the dozens of ways I have practiced self-therapy and self-medicating over the years. I even met with reasonable success. Reasonable being the key word. But last month the whole thing came tumbling down.

In November I became totally and wholly nonfunctional. I told my counselor what was happening and she told me it was time for me to go to the hospital. I was in no position to disagree. I guessed the depression had finally gotten such a hold on me that I had to do something right before I did something wrong.

Saying yes to help wasn't easy, I probably should have said something months earlier but didn't. But when I finally did say yes, it was the best thing I ever did.

To make a long story short, my diagnosis changed. My diagnosis is no longer simple depression. I am now diagnosed as Bipolar II. In short, that means that I have depression, sometimes serious bouts of depression (this helps explain some of my blog posts, especially the "Lies My Father/Mother Told Me" series) with hypomania. Hypomania is a version of mania which is not euphoric mania but a version that shows up as strangely energetic, talkative, assertive, creative, and productive behavior. Sometimes hypomania can also lead to questionable behavior... like some of my more dubious jokes.

I share this for a several reasons. The first is this, I am healing. That's the most wonderful thing I can say. I am on the way to feeling the best I have felt in my life. Therapy and medication are doing wonders. The second is that this is a process. Like everyone else on earth I will have good days and bad days. And now I have better tools to deal with them than I had even three months ago. This will also make me a better Pastor one day too. I have seen what the bottom looks like.

I also want to say thanks to my family and friends who took care of Marie and me while I was in the hospital and while I have been unemployed. You have been a joy to us.

Finally, I want to share because I want you to be aware. You know someone who is Bipolar. Fear Not! Or at least don't fear me. I'm not going to snap and bite your head off. I'm not going to go postal. I may not be just like everybody else, but there is one thing I know, I'm still me. I'm Paul. I'm the fat man in the bathtub. And I'm glad you came to my blog.

Enjoy.

Again, we need your help

Add

Friends, 
The photo you see here is from our first date, seventeen years ago... oh what those kids didn't know then...

I have been unemployed now for over eight months. When the church closed I received a five month severance package. Because of friends and being frugal Marie and I have made this stretch three more months. Food stamps and odd jobs helped, but now we have reached the end of our rope and need your help again. 

We have medical bills from now to the end of the year that will come to over $5,000.00. Insurance alone will take 70% ($700 per month for five months-$3,500.00) of this. Medicine will chew up several hundred each month too. The rest is for copays.

Please know I don't come to this lightly. Many of you have helped with our car--help that covered all but $60 of that expense. In the meantime, I have applied to work at more than 100 different churches nationwide, all three local colleges, the Cable TV company, and dozens of other companies. It's not that I'm unwilling to work, but I am unable to find a job.

Friends, by God's grace I pray you can help.
Paul

XTerra Update

A bill from Orr Nissan, and the check that paid the bill.

Dear Friends,
This picture is a bill from Orr Nissan in Shreveport, Louisiana. It covers a timing belt, water pump, heater core, and coolant overflow hose along with enough labor to tear it down and put it back together again. The check that covers the bill, literally and figuratively, was made possible through your generosity.

On July 10 I posted our first request online for help. Unemployment stinks and unemployment in East Texas without a working vehicle is impossible. We could have sold the vehicle to get a new one, but that would have netted us about $1,500 to buy something and it's not 1988 anymore. You can't even get a wreck in Marshall for that kind of money.

This is where I don't know how many of you joined us in prayer that we might get the help we need. Prayers were answer. Twenty-three of you decided to lend us a financial hand via the PayPal route. Your generosity has provided $2,500.00. Four others mailed us checks totaling $350.00. We also received another $350.00 in cash from four other people. This comes to... you guessed it... $3,200.00.  That was more than close enough to the total needed to pay the bill to make me dance in the streets.

When I posted this good news on Facebook, I also shared thanks and praise to God. Then Moishe Sachs, a friend from Santa Fe Trail Elementary School, wrote,  "Maybe more than is apparent; the check is made out to Orr (light in Hebrew) & Nissan, from the word in Hebrew meaning miracle, ness." Moishe is right, this is a miracle from the Light of God. Amen.

He also noted how glorious it is that an observant Jew and a progressive Presbyterian can get together and praise God. Amen Moishe, amen. God has blessed us through you. God bless all of you who helped.

Of course that's not all we need...

We still need another $1,000.00 for a tune up, but that's not urgent. That's not going to keep us off the road.

Another thing we need is a job. Friends, I think I've proven I'm not too proud to beg. I need a job. If you have any leads or friends with leads for someone with a bachelor's in business, two master's degrees, ten-plus years in Higher Education and over seven in ministry (and five in the "hospitality industry") I would love to talk to you.

If you want to help financially, the link is still active. (Still not a tax dedutable contribution.) Click the "Donate" button  and enter paandresen@aol.com when it asks for "To (Their email address)"



If you have a line on a job, email me at PAAndresen@aol.com. We can arrange phone contact or even lunch from there.

In the meantime, praise God and thank you for your help

A Defensive Lament

I was recently told that I embarrassed myself. I didn't know that I had embarrassed myself, but I did and was graciously told what I did. I did it too, guilty as charged!

It's true, you can take a boy out of managing a bar, have him work in higher education for ten years, send him to seminary for over three, and put him in the pulpit for seven more years and when the $#it hits the fan, well, you get the point.

It's been a tough few months here at Chez Paul et Marie. A couple of weekends ago it got to me and I dropped a few "F" bombs in places they did not need dropping. The biggest problem with people who "overhear" stuff is that context is invariably lost. I was in a bad place personally, I was asked to share, and I did so with a strafing motion. It was all directed at myself (which isn't particularly healthy, but that's for another post), but when folks overhear and all they see is the bomb, they don't know how or why it's falling.

I confess my sin and I thank the person who shared it with me. I will also add that once the grapevine reported to her she told me. I honor her for that because it wasn't easy, she told me so. She did what others would not, she told me.

So, what did she do right?

• She came to me calmly.
• She told me what's what.
• She came in care and concern and love and honor and respect not just for me but for the people who shared with her.

What could I say but thank you?

I lament and I regret my potty mouth. That's a fact. The bad news is this is as close to a direct apology I can make because I don't know who's talking about me behind my back. Is this the "defensive" part? Maybe. Have I got more? Yes, but that's just me trying to get my camel through the eye of the needle.

All I can ask now is that you forgive me

Only in Cub Scout Baseball

It's been a long time since I just told a story, and this one came back to me recently because of a friend who has returned to my life.

Moishe Sachs and I went to grade school and were in Cub Scouts together. Among the things we did was play Cub Scout Baseball. Let me add that I was awful! There's no other word, for the first two years I could not put the bat on the ball. I was just that bad.

One day we were playing and Moishe's dad Fred was calling balls and strikes behind the plate. All of the dads had to put on the mask at least once and that day was Mr. Sach's day. I was in the batter's box. I don't remember if there was anybody on base but I don't think so. The pitch came toward the plate, but it was a bit inside. I decided to stand tough, not move a muscle as it came below my hands.

Well, I misgauged the pitch, it was inside, but just a little higher than I thought. It hit the knob of the bat and rolled half way back to the pitcher. Well, I figured that I didn't swing so it wasn't a hit and it didn't hit me so I didn't get the free base. Everyone else must have thought the same thing because nobody moved. I didn't even hear anything from the parents' gallery.

Then Mr. Sachs said the magic words, "Fair ball." I didn't think it was a hit but I don't have to be told twice. I ran for the bag and the pitcher ran for the ball. The ball got away from the first baseman, so not only did I reach first--I got to second on the throw.

The Butt-Bunt was born. I might have been lousy, but people who were good never had stories like this one. They have enough sense to get out of the way.

God bless you Mr. Sachs. God bless you Moishe.

Pastor Paul's September Newsletter Article

Dear Friends in Christ,

Along with most of the Session Members who will serve this congregation next year, I recently attended the Presbytery’s Regional Leadership Development Training. There was a workshop on Officer Training that was a little history, a little theology, and a little rules and regulations. Another workshop was about Stewardship, especially how stewardship is not fundraising—it’s an exercise in discipleship. The third was on Church Transformation. This is the one I want to talk about here.

At the start of the workshop, the leader shared Matthew 16:13-14

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?”

They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.”

Then he asked us to think about our congregations and answer this question, “Who do the people say that we are?” There were all sorts of answers coming from all over East Texas, some of them weren’t very complementary. People know the way the grapevine works and they were hearing some very sour things.

He then challenged us to change gears with verse 15 just like Jesus challenged his disciples:

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

He challenged us to take the turn again asking who we as the leaders of the church say that we are. This is where the workshop began to soar. Some say we are caring, others say we are giving. Some say we are welcoming. Others say we are aging. There were some encouraging words and others that were pointed.

He challenged us to know and remember the stories of the Body of Christ. As for this part of that body the Jesse Walker Bells and the Joe McDonald crosses. It includes the Dubach’s and the Abrahams’.

It’s the story of how the children used to hit up the men of the church for camp donations on the steps while they were trying to have a smoke before worship in peace. It’s the story of Glen Newberg ringing the Sunday School bell so people would get to worship—and ring it again when people wouldn’t get along into the sanctuary.

It’s the story behind the name “Ladies of the Evening Circle.” It’s the story behind the smiles you seen when someone says, “I’m confuuuused!” It’s the story of the first thing Miss Constance said to me after my first Sunday as your pastor. (Please ask me, I love to tell that story!”)

It’s the story of baptisms and confirmations and weddings and funerals and living everyday together faithfully. It’s the story of living in relationship with one another and with our Lord and God.

What was most interesting from the session was when people were asked why they worshiped at the church they worshipped, the answers were family, friends, and relationships. Nobody said that the reason they attended was because “Presbyterian polity spoke to me on a deep theological level.”

We worship a Lord who came became like us in every way except for the way of sin. The Lord Jesus calls us to come and join him in a better relationship with him, with the Triune God, and with one another. This was the message of Church Transformation, we must allow our relationships with God and with one another to transform us. We get to tell the old stories. We get to write new stories.

And there is one story we must never forget. It’s the story all Christians share. It begins with Matthew 16:15 and ends at 17:

“But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven.”

This is our joy, this is our blessing, this is our story. God sent Jesus to Earth to be in full relationship with the people so that we can be in full relationship with one another. Let this transform us and this part of the body of Christ.

See you in worship!

Paul

What Doesn't Make It Into a Sermon

When I was writing the sermon last week, I began with a bit on what it takes to write a sermon. Frankly, it didn't belong in the sermon so it never made it there. This is a good thing. But still, I believe there are some words that may be valuable about the creation of "the interpretation of the Word of God."

Hope you enjoy... of course if you don't there are those "reaction buttons" at the bottom of the page and as always, a place for comments.

There are days when writing the sermon is easy. Those are days to be reckoned. No matter how easy the gospel seems to be, no matter how easy the words seem to come, the easy sermons are always the ones that lead us into peril.

The hazards of the sermon make themselves known in many ways. Some days they come up as a just a surface rendering of scripture. These days the sermon is like a wood veneer on some sort of cabinet. The outside says it’s oak, but on the inside it’s just so much sawdust and glue. It looks sturdy, but in truth, once the rubber meets the road, it’s not durable at all.

Another way the sermon can become a hazard is when the sermon is all sunshine and flowers. The opposite side of this same coin is when the sermon is nothing but doom and gloom. Neither of these sermons can carry the full weight of the gospel of Jesus Christ. One of them discounts the reality of sin and devastation while the other foregoes the reality of grace and redemption. The promises made by both of these sermons are incomplete. Yes, there is sin and devastation and there is grace and redemption, but one without the other is imperfect.

There is another quality to the sermon which when neglected causes the word of God to sound like a banging gong or crashing cymbal, a lack of love. The better way to say that for this situation is a lack of pastoral care.

Extending that musical instrument metaphor, I know that God will use me as his instrument. In God’s way, one of the extremes of how I will be used as his instrument is like a fine Stradivarius violin. This instrument, in the hands of a master will be in total harmony. The music will be finely tuned. The melody will be exquisite. The song will give glory to the one who plays it. In fact, while the Stradivarius is the finest violin ever made, its only glory comes from the one who plays it.

The other extreme is that God can play me like a cowbell; a one note, 1-2-3-4, hit-it-hard, keep-the-time cowbell. It’s useful. It keeps time as well as the one who hits it, and if it’s the Lord our God banging on the cowbell, it will be perfect. Of course, there are other ways to keep time. If all I can be in the pulpit is a cowbell, then the Lord can easily have me replaced.

In short, I need to approach sermons, and all of life, in a pastoral way. A way that glorifies God, shares the Gospel with the world, and sends us into the world to live the life God wants us to live. Let’s just say that this week; I have been played like a cowbell, hoping not to preach God’s word with the substance and nutritional value of cotton candy

Pastor Paul's August Newsletter Article

Dear Friends in Christ,

Today that salutation is particularly appropriate. I consider everyone who receives this newsletter to be a friend in Christ.

Some of you are far, far away from our beloved Marshall, Texas. You have long been faithful to this part of the body of Christ, longer than I have been alive. You have been faithful to this part of the body of Christ over the tenures of many pastors. You have been faithful at times when you have been the pastors to this part of the body of Christ. You are saints of this congregation even in absence.

Some of you have been doing God’s work in this part of the Body of Christ for a long time and are still active. You are the people who have served as Elders, Sunday School Teachers, and volunteers. You are the saints who serve everyday, many with nary a notice. You are the saints of this congregation and you are noticed.

Some of you are new to the area. You have been a part of the community for a year and even less. You are like Marie and I; we have been here less than two years. As I type that I think wow, two years… It’s not long at all and the time has just flown! These are the new saints of this congregation.

There have been lots of changes too. There have been weddings and there have been births. There has been great sadness too, grieving for those who have died. These are the saints in the church triumphant.

All of this talk of the saints may seem out of place, but it is not. In his many letters, Paul referred to the believers as “saints.” Especially at the ends of his epistles Paul asks the recipients of these letters to pray for the saints in…such-and-such a place. It may not seem usual, but it is real. It is true. Those who believe are saints—now and forever.

Friends in Christ, some are near and some are far. Some of you I see often, some of you not often enough. Friends in Christ, those of you who are far away I miss and hope to see soon. Friends in Christ, those of you who are near I hope to see soon. Saints of Christ, faithful followers of the Lord, I hope to see you soon.

See you soon,
Pastor Paul

Pastor Paul's June Newsletter Article

Dear readers, this is a particularly long writing for both a newsletter article and blog post. I pray you forgive me as I believe the subject matter deserves and needs these words. God bless you as you read and as always, please comment if you desire. ~Paul

Dear Friends in Christ,

Many of you are aware from the local newspaper and the coffee shop that the First Presbyterian Church in Longview has split. Many are leaving to form a new Evangelical Presbyterian Church congregation and the remaining members are staying to make a go of it in the historic First Presbyterian building.

Many of you also know that our own Harriette Malcolm has served as Clerk for the Presbytery’s Administrative Commission for First Longview. Now that the Pastors who served that church have demitted (sorry, church jargon—set aside/renounced) their PC(USA) ordinations Harriette is now Clerk of their Session. This will continue until the remaining members of the First Presbyterian Church in Longview elect a new Session and Clerk.

A couple of weeks ago, there was a Presbytery meeting in Dallas to discuss some things including the formation of that Administrative Commission. A meeting that could have been finished in an hour (including 40 minutes of worship) took three. It took that long because people were hurt and wanted their pain known and acknowledged.

Friends in Christ, any time a church faces a split there is pain. Few congregations in the Presbytery know that better than this one after a split over twenty-five years ago. There are still members of this part of the Body of Christ who feel that pain intimately. It is the Church’s version of a civil war where brothers and sisters and parents and children fight on opposite sides of the line, or in the case of the church the aisle. It is horrible. It is terrible. But as for the question of whether or not it can be prevented, well, the answer to that just might be no.

The Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow was the Moderator of the 218th General Assembly in San Jose. He is also a prolific writer and noted speaker on technology and the church. In a recent article the Rev. Reyes-Chow quoted Dr. Fred Heuser, Executive Director of the Presbyterian Historical Society, about the history of splits and reunions among Presbyterians. Dr. Heuser writes:

The conflict and divisiveness within the PC (USA) today is part of a broader pattern that is deeply rooted in our past. The “flash points” that have produced these conflicts may be different, but the underlying tensions that birthed them are remarkably similar.

The Rev. Reyes-Chow believes that we are in such a time. He continues, “Our struggle now is to move away from the many adversarial postures that exist and acknowledge that God may indeed be working through and in all of us during these days of denominations shifts.” [Italics mine.]

The way I read it, the former Moderator of the General Assembly is saying that we need to move from fighting one another because God may well be calling some folks out of the Presbyterian Church (USA) to do the work of the Body of Christ on Earth and calling others to stay and do the work of the Body of Christ on Earth.

To me, that sounds horribly painful. It also begs the question, “Can schism bring glory to God?” Actually, that’s not such a good question. It puts human work (schism) before God’s work. This is never a winning concept. Maybe this is a better question, “Can God do something glorious despite this schism?” That isn’t so good either. This question fails to remember that God does not love us “despite who we are” (sinful creatures). Instead we must remember that God loves us because of who we are, his children.

It’s as easy as that, God loves us because we are his children.

So the better question is “Can God do something glorious through this schism?” I believe the answer is yes. God meets us where we are, even on the battlefields we put up in our sanctuaries, Presbyteries, and General Assemblies. God’s overflowing love is greater than our understanding.

Granted, none of these things relieves us of the bitter realities of our feelings. Those who were here during the split know this too well. The pain of watching family leaving may be as fresh as a newly formed scab, a scar yet to be made. Others remember the pain. Even though the scab has long peeled away and the scar faded, even if just a little. Others just remember what caused it. The Rev. Reyes-Chow tells us not ignore that pain:

Now of course, this does not mean that I do not care or do not grieve the loss of the denominational relationships with those who are leaving, but I also do not begrudge anyone or have an overwhelming urge to fight to make people stay when they are feeling like this is no longer a good place for them. What I am trying to do is to be gracious in the face of frequent castigation (castigation means criticism. -Paul) and loving as I see colleagues move into a new denominational relationship; all the while, remaining committed and faithful to my part in discerning what it means to be the Presbyterian Church (USA) today and into the future.

There is grief and sorrow and pain over the departures. But what the Rev. Reyes-Chow tells us is that he doesn’t and we mustn’t act on the all too human urge to fight with or hold grudges against those who leave. Let them be committed to who they are being called to be and we will continue to be who we are committed to be. We need to do this with grace, not with a chip.

Now he also points out that when there is separation there are other questions to be worked out; questions that end up being asked and answered by church and civil, lawyers and accountants. Every legal split has its arguments about who gets the house and the stuff, but that is not the focus of his article nor this one.

This is a time to grieve the loss of PC(USA) relationships. This is a time to grieve the loss of church friends. It is not a time for hate or spite or distrust to overwhelm the truth that Christ is Lord of ALL. Regardless of any view of “us and them,” Christ is Lord of ALL. Because Christ is Lord of all, we can forgive those who have hurt us, and there is a lot of hurt going around among the current and former members of First-Longview and with in the denomination.

This is our call to continue living out the Gospel of Jesus Christ, regardless of where we do it. We can do this with grief. We can do this with sorrow. We can never do this with hate.

See you in Church,
Paul

For the link to Rev. Bruce Reyes-Chow's full blog post, click here.
For the link to  Dr. Fred Heuser's full article, click here.

Another Bar Story, This One with Extra Grace!

One of the truest reasons men work in bars is to meet women. That may seem shallow and it may seem short-sighted, but that's what makes it true!

One night when I was managing Buzzard Beach in Westport, Kansas City, Missouri, USA, one of my doormen came up to me after the bar closed. I was sitting on the back bar with my legs crossed much like a modern day Buddha. He started to apologize. He was sincere but he was also waiting judgement so he might have been a little on edge.

You see, he had begun seeing a waitress from a bar and restaurant across the street so after her shift ended, she would come over and see Scott. She was a cutie too, curly blonde hair, great legs and a so-on that was before its time.

Something you probably don't know but need to for this story is that Buzzard Beach was a saloon, a tavern-we had beer, cocktails, and popcorn. To work in a tavern you had to be 21. Well, she worked in a restaurant that served drinks. You only had to be 18 to work there. Thus my doorman's dilemma, he met her at our bar, but it wasn't until after a couple of weeks that he discovers she isn't 21.

Let me add that minors in a tavern could get you closed and the person who serves a minor could loose their liquor card-a license that allows a bartender to dispense. So you see, as Ricky Ricardo would say, he "had some 'splaining to do."

He walked up and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know she wasn't 21. As soon as I found out I took care of it. She won't be back until she is 21. This won't happen again."

Well, let's just say that I took the high road on this one. I said, "First, I accept your apology. Second, you did find out she wasn't 21, and that's big. Third, as soon as you did find out you fixed it. Fourth, I believe you, this won't happen again. Fifth" and at this point I addressed the assembled staff; the three bartenders, three doormen, and bar back who were also working and asked, "fifth, guys, how many of us met a girl here at the Buzzard and didn't discover until later that she wasn't 21?" Everyone of us raised his hand. The guys who had been there ten years, the owner's brother, and even me, everyone of us raised our hands.

I ended my lesson for the day saying, "Finally, you're in good company." Grace over hypocrisy is a winner every time, and we always carded his paramours in the future.

September Newsletter Article

Here is my newsletter article for September:

Dear Friends in Christ,

As a fan of Star Trek, one of the things that always amused me about the Original Series was the ship’s chief medical officer and surgeon, Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy. He was smart and capable, but he was also a fish out of water. When situations got out of hand, he would say, “I’m just a simple country doctor.” Capable yet flustered, the writers began having fun with putting the doctor into situations that did not call for a doctor leading to “Bones” telling his Captain who he is and who he is not. These sayings are collected into a piece of the Star Trek pantheon called “I’m a doctor, not a…” Some of these (with some mild variations) include:

“I'm a doctor, not a bricklayer.”

“I'm a surgeon, not a psychiatrist.”

“Look, I'm a doctor, not an escalator.”

“I'm a doctor, not a mechanic.”

“I'm a doctor, not an engineer.”

“I'm a doctor, not a coal miner.”

“I'm not a mechanic, Spock...”

“I'm not a scientist or a physicist, Mr. Spock...”

“I'm not a magician, Spock, just an old country doctor.”

“I will not peddle flesh! I'm a physician.”

“What am I, a doctor or a moon-shuttle conductor?”

You get the idea. This joke became so important to the Star Trek mythology that every doctor in every Trek show has had their own “I’m a doctor, not a…” lines.

The other day, I was chatting with a member of the congregation who told me, “I’m not a theologian.” As soon as I heard this, that wonderful Star Trek line came back to me. 

“I’m a teacher, not a theologian…”

“I’m retired, not a theologian…”

“I’m a mom, not a theologian…”

“I’m a mechanic, not a theologian…”

“I’m a clerk, not a theologian…”

“I’m a carhop, not a theologian…”

“I’m a (insert your label here), not a theologian…”

Again, you get the idea. Well I’m here to tell you that as a child of God you are a theologian. Anyone who says they aren’t is selling themselves short. Anyone who says they aren’t is saying that Sunday School and worship hasn’t informed them at all. And I don’t think that’s true.

While I can’t speak for everyone who has ever said “I’m not a theologian…” perhaps one of the most likely reasons people say this is out of modesty. I honor this, but don’t sell yourself short because we have all answered the greatest theological question in scripture.

In Matthew 13, Jesus asks his disciples “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asks them, “But who do you say that I am?”

It is our answer to this very question that begins our road to being theologians! Of course we answer this question like Peter, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Then Jesus answers Peter saying, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” We are blessed together knowing that Jesus is the Lord, the Christ, the Messiah—the Son of the living God.

But being theologians is more than this. Being theologians, being the children of the living God is more than what we say with our tongues, it is also what we do with our hands, our feet, our lives.

How we respond to these blessings together as the Body of Christ, that’s the next step in being theologians together. Paul tells the Philippians how important this step is when he tells them, “Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”

This is what we are called to do, work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, which is not the same as trying to earn our salvation. We can’t earn our salvation, but we can respond to the gift of salvation we have received by the grace of God. We are saved by grace and we respond by faith, faith that is met by action. This is how we work out our salvation, by letting God use us to fulfill his purposes.

By the end of Star Trek, Dr. McCoy discovers that he will be called upon to be brave and do things he never imagined. So smile, be of good cheer! We are theologians! It is through being active theologians that God can use us. This is true whether you’re a mechanic, a stay at home mom, a teacher, or even a doctor. We are called to the work of good theologians. To God goes the glory!

See you in church!

Paul

August's Newsletter Article

A couple of weeks ago, I was looking at the local newspaper, the Marshall News-Messenger, and discovered that I was named runner-up for "Favorite Pastor" in the paper's annual “Hometown Best” edition. So I used my August newsletter article to say "thank you" to the congregation.

Dear Friends in Christ,

When Sally Field won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her role in “Norma Rae,” she started her acceptance speech crying and saying, “You like me, you really like me.” I’ve recently discovered how she felt.

A couple of Saturdays ago I saw in the newspaper that I was named a runner-up in the Pastor category of the Marshall Messenger’s “Hometown Best.” When I got the news I was filled with joy. On Sunday when I was congratulated on the award I hope I blushed at least a little bit. I am honored, and I am humbled too.

I prayed I have been able to walk that line between being honored and boasting. The words of Paul’s warning to the Corinthians was ringing in my ears, “Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.” (1Corinthians 1:31) Saying that, there are two things about this honor that bring me joy.

The first is that so many of you voted. Voting is active, whether it’s “Marshall’s Best” or anything else, voting is something the voter chooses to do. Without voting there’s no voter, right? What makes this even more special is there are so many churches in Marshall with more members that if they had chosen to vote for their pastor, well you get the picture.

The other joy is that this encourages me to keep doing what I need to do so that I don’t let you down. You have shown that you really like me (thank you Sally Field), but that’s a trust I have to continue to earn.

It’s hard to believe Marie and I have been here ten months. In one way, it feels like we haven’t been here that long at all. You know, time flies when you’re having fun. In another way, it’s like we’ve been together for a long, long time, like we have always been the Body of Christ together. For this, I thank you and I give glory to God!

So thank you for the honor and may I boast only in Christ who gives the power to live into it.

See you in church!
Paul

Change That Never Comes Easily Will Continue Not To Come Easily

It appears that sometime this afternoon or this evening, The Presbyterian Church U.S.A. will pass amendment 10-A (The full text of the amendment can be found on pages1-2 on this link.). In a prior blog post, I wrote "Many say this is the amendment about allowing the ordination of sexually active gays and lesbians. It is more accurate to say this amendment allows for the nomination to ordained office for gays and lesbians." A friend reminded me that this is not the only truth.

The passage of this amendment will also allows heterosexuals involved in sexual relationships outside of marriage to be ordained and installed. (I always knew this was true. I myself have taken a gracious path with betrothed, engaged, and "engaged" persons involved in ministry.) He has also reminded me this prohibition has touched older members of the church in committed relationships who don't marry because of decreases in pension and social security benefits between two singles and one couple. I forgot all about them.

Some would say the second paragraph isn't the point, the prohibition was written to deal with gays and lesbians, not heterosexuals. To this I say "It always stinks when law is interpreted as written and not as originally intended or envisioned." Believe me, those pensioners who are "living in sin" were not the target of this rule, but they were under it.

Anyway, after today and effective July 11ish, this will no longer be true. So what do I hope comes of this?

Hope 1--Humility in celebration, graciousness in defeat. This is the third time this change has come before the church and it will change this time. I honestly don't recall the "global" reaction the last time the church finished voting on this, and maybe that's a good thing. I hope beyond hope that this is how the church will respond, by forgetting the way everybody responded the last two times. But after reading white letters, blogs, and tweets from both sides of the issue, I have only limited expectations of this outcome.

Bruce Reyes Chow was the Moderator of the 218th General Assembly of the PC(USA). In a recent twitter post he wrote, When ordination standards change in the Presbyterian Church (USA) I hope one expression of my joy will be graciousness. Wonderfully said, elegantly written.

Hope 2--A sense of scope and perspective beyond "I have such a complete handle on the word of God I know for a fact that if the vote doesn't go my way a hard rain is going to fall." Pardon this snarky hope, but so often people on both sides of the Presbyterian Ordination Argument have in one way or another said just this. Yes, I say both sides.

Michael Jinkins is the President of Louisville Seminary and said this today on the Faith and Leadership blog:

Whenever I hear someone say that the situation we face now is graver, more challenging than any we have ever faced, I stifle a laugh. Our low point surely was at the beginning of the Christian movement. We muttered and worried in that room long ago and could not imagine that Christ was raised from the dead, risen with healing in his wings, and with his death and resurrection had judged even our highest aspirations as inadequate. He pronounced our greatest hopes as infinitely too small.

Friends, it's not the end of the world. (That isn't scheduled until later this month.) The church has had many moments of controversy and has had it's embarrassing and shameful moments. But guess what, this is nothing compared to what the first disciples knew after the scene in Gethsemane and before the Resurrection. Nothing.

So friends in Christ, Christians of the Presbyterian Church (USA) persuasion, after tonight's votes, pray. Pray for the church. Pray for your friends. Pray especially for your friends who don't agree with you. There is going to be a change and change never comes easily. This change is going to be particularly charges.

On, and one more thing: Go and serve God.  In the end, that's the only change God really honors. If we do nothing, who the church ordains will not matter a lick.

The iPhone iRritant

How many times have you seen this in one place or another...

You're in a public place and it's an event, and you're enjoying what's going on. Then you notice all around you, held up just above head level, is a flock of iPhones recording everything so that their owner doesn't miss a thing.

I just saw this going on in Times Square on New Year's Eve, during the ball drop. Friends, wouldn't you rather watch the ball drop than watch the viewfinder of your cell phone watching the ball drop?

If you're looking for a resolution for this year, be in the moment people. Live what is happening with the people it is happening with. If you share the video with people and say, "I was there," no, you weren't. You were the cinematographer.

Put down the iPhone, pick up your kids.

Unpacking

Friends,
Unpacking has been the theme of the last two weeks. The kitchen is almost unpacked and the bathrooms have most of their stuff in them. The master bedroom has some boxes, but most of the important ones have been unloaded... that is the ones that have been found have been unpacked.

That's the thing about packing, finding the stuff to unpack it is nearly as difficult. It wasn't until yesterday that I found my Presbyterian Worship Planner Volume 2 (on CD-ROM) in a box at the church. Though I still haven't found the pictures I hang in the office; and God knows what I'm going to do with twelve more boxes of files and stuff now that the bookshelves are full.

The other things that are becoming unpacked is life in Marshall. The annual Fire Ant Festival was last weekend and there's a wedding this weekend (Congrats Marla and Robbie!). I have a conference in Fort Worth around the corner and meetings with the folks who do worship, hospitality, and stewardship on the horizon. Just to put one more piece of love on the marquee, I will be installed as Minister of Word and Sacrament on November 7th.

But you know what else I have, I have Georgia practicing the organ in the background and there's something wonderful in hearing her play "My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less" knowing that it is true, our hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' hope and righteousness.

It will be some time before we finish unpacking. There will be some stuff we will throw away and more that we will put in the storage shed in the backyard, but as we do, we have hope, and it is a wonder.

Share and Enjoy, Paul

NFLPA cannot pay fine if Ochocinco wears No. 15

The-Artist-Formerly-Known-as-Chad-Johnson, Chad Ocho-Cinco, wants to wear the jersey number of his recently deceased teammate Chris Henry. By calling anyone by the name "The-Artist-Formerly-Known-as-" you can imagine that Mr. Ocho-Cinco has a tendency to occasionally be a spectacle. This would be true.

Well, this Sunday, the Cincinnati Bengals wide-receiver, number 85, wants to wear the number 15. And the National Football League, the NFL, a group often called the "No Fun League" has rules to prevent this and will fine 85 if he goes ahead and wears 15. They've fined him before and they'll do it again.

The player's union, the NFLPA has offered to pay his fine, but that too is against NFL rules. See this link for details: NFLPA cannot pay fine if Ochocinco wears No. 15. (Even though they can't officially pay it, they have offered to match it, paying the same amount to the NFL as Ocho-Cinco's fine.) A gesture in honor of a man who lost his life gets fined because it's against the rules? Shame on the NFL.

What do I say about this? I say let all of the Bengals come out wearing #15 jerseys, every single one of them; and let the opposing team do the same thing; and let everyone in the NFL do the same thing and let go the dogs of NFL fines.

Mr. Henry wasn't always a good guy. It seemed that he was beginning to straighten his life out, though details of his death may show that there were some speed-bumps along his way. But if a man who lives to draw attention to himself wants to draw attention to a recently deceased teammate, I don't care what the NFL says.

Pay the fine? Shoot, let's see the NFL fine the whole league on Chris Henry's behalf and we'll see who seems more mature in the end.

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