A First Year Pastor’s Top Ten Gleanings

It has been almost one year since I became the pastor at Saxapahaw United Methodist Church.  While my years of teaching high school at Northern Durham, my wonderful seminary education at Duke Divinity, and my invaluable experience on the pastoral staff at Reconciliation UMC prepared me well, the learning curve has been steep during this first year of ministry.  Today I thought I’d reflect on what I’ve learned so far.  Here are my top ten gleanings:

1.     The weekly task of preaching is a gift.  The hours spent preparing – reading, praying, pondering, exploring, and finally writing – create a rhythm in my week that grounds me in God’s Word.  That is pure gift. 

2.     The weekly task of preaching is a challenge.  Sunday comes every seven days, whether I am ready for it or not.  Unlike teaching a lesson where there is a clear objective, the objective of preaching comes from studying God’s Word and knowing God’s people.  I recognize my utter dependence on God on those weeks when I’m sitting in front of my computer on a Saturday morning and still have no idea what Word to bring to God’s people.

3.     Praying for the people is utterly essential.  Each week, in addition to spontaneous prayers, I pray through the church directory; mine is filled with notes and names that I have added.  These prayers connect me to the congregation in a way that nothing else can; they are the foundation for building strong relationships.

4.     Conflict is inevitable. 

5.     Time with the congregation is indispensable.  From visiting the sick and those who are grieving, to showing up at birthday parties and games, spending time listening and laughing and praying together is invaluable.

6.     Time with friends and colleagues is important for a balanced life.  Whether it is time with my accountability group, my friends, my mentors, or other pastors, that time is so important to help me keep things in perspective.

7.     Time in study and reflection beyond preparation for worship and Sunday school is absolutely necessary.  From daily devotions to close readings of theology books to watching movies and reading novels, this time spent learning about God and God’s people has a way of grounding me and keeping things real.

8.     There is never enough time.  

9.     The people who make up the church are extraordinary.  They love one another, through good times and tough times.  They freely give of their time to the church – teaching and leading, planning and visioning, cleaning and mowing – on top of the many commitments of a busy life.  And even more astonishing, they support the church financially, paying me to do the things I love most.  The people of God are faithful and good and generous and loving.  They are extraordinary.

10. It isn’t about me.  At the end of the day, it isn’t about what I’ve done or who I’ve visited.  God has this uncanny ability to show up and give us a glimpse of the Kingdom in the midst of our most mundane activities and during our most profound moments of worship.  At the end of the day, there is nothing to do but give thanks to God for this gift called ministry.

Beach Reflections

May 20, 2011

I love walking on the beach.  There’s nothing quite like the sun on my back, a breeze in my face, sand between my toes, the water splashing up to my knees, and the never ending sound of the waves. The beach is a space that is both infinitely vast and deeply personal – a time that is totally in the moment and surprisingly eternal – a place where I can reflect on life and listen for the voice of God.  When I walk on the beach, it’s as if I’ve stepped into a corner of heaven. 

Walking at North Myrtle Beach, May 2011

This week as I walked, I reflected on the deep places of hurt and the broad places of gratitude in my life.  I realized that the water at the beach is never still enough for me to see my own reflection.  The constant motion, the foam of the waves, the churned up sand – well, the conditions are all wrong for seeing my own reflection!  And yet, I can see the sun reflecting off the water near the shore.  The bright yellow globe may be slightly distorted by the water, but there’s no questioning that reflection!

What is God saying to us, that the sun can be reflected at the ocean’s edge but our own images cannot?

When I lift my eyes beyond the shore to the horizon where the blue-green of the ocean meets the blue-white of the sky, I am drawn into the expansiveness of God’s creation.  I am but one small creature in a universe that extends way beyond the visible horizon to vast horizons across space.  Then, as my eyes are drawn back to the waves that perpetually break and roll into shore, I am aware that waves have broken on shores since long before I arrived, and will do so long after I am gone.  

Like the shifting sands under my feet, as I gaze across the ocean I sense a shift in my own perspective. My eyes see the truth: it is the Almighty and Everlasting God who is reflected in the ocean.  It is the very image of God that surrounds me - the Creator of the universe so powerfully present in this particular moment.  From this perspective, there is an abundance in God’s creation that far outweighs my joys and sorrows; it isn’t that my reflections are insignificant, they just aren’t as heavy as I have allowed them to become.  Somehow, in that moment, I am welcomed into a reality that extends beyond the horizon and I know that my reflections matter to God!

Overwhelmed and humbled, tears flow freely into the very water where the image of God is reflected.  The tears are swept away by the water – the salt of my eyes becoming indistinguishable from the salt of the ocean.  It is as if God has cried an ocean of tears with all those across time and around the world who have shed tears.  In that moment, my deep places of hurt merge with God’s sorrow and pain and I find healing.

Then laughter escapes my lips as I rejoice and give thanks for all that God has done.  Like music to my ears, the commotion of the breaking waves, the sounds of children playing along the shore, and the voices of people enjoying the beach mingle with my own laughter making a joyful noise to the Lord.  In that moment the peace that passes all understanding washes over me.

I think there’s a reason we cannot see our own reflection at the beach.  If we saw our own reflection we’d get lost in it and miss the beauty of God’s reflection.  And it is in encountering God’s image that we grasp eternity.  The beach is but one little corner of heaven where we find healing and hope, grace and peace.

Fragile! Handle With Care!

May 3, 2011

The tiny porcelain angel was not much bigger than my hand.  It was beautifully crafted, with wings that were so thin they were practically translucent and a face that was almost radiant. I ran my fingers along her wings as my friend told me the story of this family heirloom; I could sense both how precious and how fragile this little angel was.  As our conversation moved on I turned to put the little angel back on the shelf, and as I turned I inadvertently bumped the angel against the shelf.  Much to my dismay this beautiful little angel broke into pieces!  I had been distracted as our conversation moved on and had not been as careful as I should have been.  I misjudged with tragic consequences.  I felt awful; the damage had been done and there was nothing that I could do about it.

Unfortunately, little porcelain angels are not the only things we break.  There are times when we inadvertently say something to a friend that shatters them.  Or, in a moment of distraction, we do something that forever changes our relationships.  How often we misjudge a situation with tragic consequences! 

The Psalmist sings to God: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.  My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth” (Ps 139:14-15).   Like the little angel, we are intricately woven – beautifully crafted – by God.  Like the little angel, we are fearfully and wonderfully made – with astonishing and unique features that God knows intimately.  The Psalmist understands that we are fragile; God knows that each one of His beloved children must be handled with care.

And yet we continue to hurt one another and ourselves – often inadvertently, occasionally intentionally.  We are broken by careless actions or thoughtless words.  We are shattered by forces that are seemingly beyond our control.  Like Humpty Dumpty, it seems like we cannot be put back together again.  But with God, all things are possible.

These same hands that broke my friend’s little angel are the hands that are held open as a broken piece of bread is placed in them with the words, “The body of Christ, broken for you.”  The body of Christ that we broke when we shouted, “Crucify Him!” is given to us as a gift.  Through Jesus Christ all things are possible.  By grace, Jesus is right there, broken, in our very hands, given to us that we might know the depth of God’s love for us and find healing and forgiveness.

I hear God whispering into my brokenness, “You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you... Do not fear, for I am with you” (Isaiah 43:4-5).  I hear the truth of Jesus’ words: “Your sins are forgiven” (Matt 9:2).  As I leave the Lord’s Table, I find that I can go out into this broken world once again.  Certainly, I know I am fragile, I know I must handle my relationships with great care.  Yet, I hear God’s words: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).