Vacation: Part One

I may post again before the weekend is out but this coming week I'm officially on vacation. So this is just a brief note before a potential week-long absence. If we spend this week's vacation time as we're hoping at my in-laws lake-side camp (rustic but restful!), I will not have access to the internet.

Actually, though, most of my congregation won't even notice that we are on vacation. And that's because it's more of a semi-vacation. That is, I'm preaching this Sunday and next Sunday but taking off in between. So I do have to work on a sermon during vacation but I'll be doing so in more vacation-like settings.

And why would I work my vacation in this way? I have three weeks vacation altogether coming to me and I'll be taking two more weeks off (which will encompass three Sundays) toward the end of August and into the first week of September. Taking three full weeks together wouldn't have worked as well, because, first, we prefer taking vacation in August and early September so that we experience a break between summer and fall. Second, our denomination's annual assembly gathering also happens in late August. In fact, the first night of our second stretch of vacation begins the day this assembly ends. But this means we can't take three straight weeks in August off because this asssembly officially counts as work for me. And, third, it works nicely because the last day of our denominational assembly is also our actual wedding anniversary. And since we're staying in a lovely bed and breakfast for our time at assembly, we booked an additional night for our anniversary. Works out well, especially since at this time our little girl will be with her grandparents!

I like the chance to laze around without too much regard for the clock, taking extra time to read, playing guitar while my daughter sings, hiking, camping, whatever, and that's precisely what vacation is for. I look forward to time with my family that will be largely uninteruppted (I say largely because, of course, we can never anticipate everything). I do have a dream vacation in my mind but it's not one we can really afford at the moment. It's nothing particularly exotic -- just staying in a beachside cottage for a week or two. My in-laws camp has been a mainstay during our vacations ever since we got married, and while I most definitely appreciate it, there are times when I would appreciate more a similar setting that included running water and electicity! Like I said earlier, the camp is rustic!

Anyway, I likely won't be posting again until next weekend or thereafter. I may post tomorrow, but that depends on how quickly sermon prep goes. I also have to choose music for our service. That all comes first. Here's praying that unplugging (in more ways than one!) for a week does me, and my family, some good!

Zzzzzzzzz . . .

Yesterday I woke up at around 5am and, inexplicably, stayed up. I had the bright idea of not going back to bed even though I had only gotten to bed the night before shortly after midnight. So I hadn't had a lot of sleep. Nevertheless, I felt fairly alert so up I was!

Around 7am I was sitting in one of the more comfortable chairs in our house and trying to pray -- except that after a little while, I found myself dozing, my mind wandering, distractions and random thoughts crowding out my more earnest and heart-felt petitions. And it wasn't much of a surprise given my state of restedness or not. But, still, on the whole I had a pretty good day. I even put together a decent outline for my sermon. I ran some errands. I prepared for Sunday morning's worship service. I had time with my family.

Eventually, of course, night arrived, and I went to bed. Well, I went to bed later than I should have (does anyone else do this?). And the next day, while I woke up at a decent hour, I still felt tired. Nevertheless, I trudged off to my office anyway. I attempted to work on my sermon, I tried reading my Bible, and, inevitably, was unsuccessful. Inevitably? The bottom line, I believe, is that my previous day's decision to stay up when I woke up so early (early for those of us who aren't farmers!) was catching up with me. I know this also because when I went upstairs from my office to our church sanctuary to pray, I found myself more than distracted. I very nearly fell asleep while sitting in one of our sanctuary chairs! Needless to say, it wasn't the most productive morning. My afternoon was better, but mostly because I wasn't attempting to do desk work but instead cleaned our car, ran a couple more errands, and helped my wife do some housework.

Rest is key to work, I was reminded. Without it, the brain can't function as it should. Thoughts are muddy. Prayers meander and even peter out. Reading leads to a pair of glazed over eyes. Physical rest, especially, is important. It's amazing how concentration is effected by the lack of it. All I know is that next time I get the notion to stay up when it's that early, I will suppress that impulse. This is especially true when the night before I got to bed fairly late. More waking hours doesn't necessarily mean more work done!

This life which is not your own . . .

I'm pretty darn certain that God sometimes smiles and, yes, even laughs.

And I say this now because of the contrast between life as a I know it right now and life as I once knew it as a university student. You see, when I was a university student (a period of time which consumed most of my 20s), I was also single. But for a few odd dates and eventually getting engaged to the woman who is now my beloved wife during my last year at school, I was essentially quite monkish while pursuing the academic path. Of course, as I often joked with other single friends, it's one thing to voluntarily choose a monk-like vow of singleness, it's quite another to have it thrust upon you! And for much of that time it felt thrust upon me. Especially once I was working on a PhD (and thus working on the end of my 20s!), I really began to feel a longing to settle down and have a family -- of course, I would have to have at least one date, right? Anyway, though single, I was not altogether content with that circumstance.

Now as it happens life as a single student also had its perks. For instance, my time was my own. There was no one in my life who was making demands on my time and schedule. Apart from my obvious responsibilities as a grad student, I was free. Not to mention the fact that, technically, I had more expendable income. (Granted, most of that "income" was from student loans, a rather depressing and anxiety-inducing topic all its own deserving its own post-entry.) Ostensibly, some might say I had it made. Answerable to no one, I was a bachelor, a single guy in his late 20s who had all the time in the world.

Why did I hate it so much then? Well, like I said, I wasn't so crazy about being single.

Now, as a husband and a father, very little of my time is my own. My routines are largely determined by the responsibilities these relationships entail. Not to say that I resent this -- not at all! -- but simply to say that life then and now are very different. And the crazy thing is sometimes, at least once in awhile, I long for a time when I had more me time. I guess that's not so crazy. No doubt everyone feels that way on occasion. But I look back on my university years and envy, at least in part, the freedom I had. Therein lies the rub: I find myself now wishing for more of what I had then, even though then I wanted what I have now. Nuts, eh?

As much as I love my family, and I truly, deeply do, like anyone else I can experience that need for space, a space within which I can't hear -- or don't have to listen to -- the loud noises of my daughter and the sounds that are a part of family life. Nothing abnormal about that, I think. And truth be told, I hardly long to return to my student days. My goal is to have something in between the two.

But in thinking about the difference between my life then and my life now, I think my life now more clearly reflects on what God's will for our lives is. That is, he intends for us to be ensconced (great word, eh?) in relationships of sufficient depth and intimacy that we have our inherent selfishness squeezed out of us. To have all my time -- and indeed my life -- to myself is to deprive myself of experiences which draw me out of myself and closer to the other -- whether the otherness of people or the otherness of God.

Truth is, my life has never been and never will be my own. It doesn't matter whether I have one hour or ten hours of free me time in a given week, my life and my time are God's. It's hard to practice that sometimes, however. But married life and life as a father definitely provide solid training ground in that holy reality. Certainly, these aren't the only relationships where God can teach us and shape us and make us into who he wants us to be. They are where God has led me, I'm glad to say.

In the meantime, I do wonder if God laughs when, having received from him all I was longing for when a student, I find my longings momentarily regressing. Who knows? All I know is that I don't have much time to worry about it!

Confessions . . .

Jesus once told his followers, and in having told them also tells us, "Be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect." That's a high standard, one that taken literally is too high for most of us to meet. It helps, therefore, to know that the word translated "perfect" doesn't so much refer to moral perfection as it does "wholeness." That said, we're still obligated to live up to a high standard. Those of us who follow Jesus are probably quite aware that "all have sinned and fallen short of God's glory," and, in fact, that a life of holiness is one of gradual, incremental progress. We make our way along the path of discipleship in fits and starts; and this we do only by the power of God working in and through us. All this to say that as Christians we are still called to a life of repentance, contrition, and confession. Perhaps perfection lies partly in our willingness to be repentant, express contrition, and make confession.

Acknowledging our sins and failures, in many cases, can only happen in the closet of the individual believer or within the confines of a close-knit community or small-group. Confession even to another believer, a fellow brother or sister in Christ, needs to be done with discretion; not everyone can be trusted with the secrets of our hearts. That said, public confession, even if of a more general kind, should be a regular part of our worship. Failing to do so means both disregarding our proclivity for wrongdoing and our desperate need for grace.

Even I need to make confession. Pastors are hardly exempt from the need for a repentant life. Though Scripture does have a high standard for Christian leaders, this doesn't mean that we do not struggle with sin, temptation, and therefore need to avail ourselves often of God's mercy and willingness to heal and forgive, love and restore. Each day is a journey of faith, one fraught with potential downfalls and possible victories; and only with God's Spirit can we hope to have more of the latter than the former. This is as true of me as it is of any other person who confesses Christ as Lord.

I find that there are moments and occasions when I am very much aware of my own sinfulness and of all the ways that I fall short of God's glory. And I'm not speaking of moral failure necessarily, but mostly of all the ways that I experience brokenness through my relationships and in how I treat and live with those around me.

And so . . .

I confess that I fall short when it comes to my relationship with Christ. This happens when I fail to give sufficient time and energy to prayer. Instead, I opt to do other things. I will avoid reading Scripture on occasion and, worse, will avoid obeying Scripture. There are times when I only relectantly trust in Christ. Basically, I know that I am still very much in the process of being made whole in Christ, and that I am the one who inhibits this growth.

I confess that I fall short in my relationship with my wife. Even my best moments are still tainted by selfishness and pride. I sometimes want my wife to conform to my unrealistic expectations. I wrongly judge her by these expectations. Sometimes I fail to see her for who she is and love her for that.

I confess that I fall short in my relationship with my daughter. At times I can be impatient with her childishness, with behaviour on her part that is natural to her age, but is sometimes irritating to me. I forget sometimes, too, that the reason I am irritated is not because of her but because I am overtired or in a bad mood. But I still take it out on her by being short with her.

I confess that I fall short in my relationship with people in my church. As a pastor, I will disappoint and perhaps even fail people in my church. It's harder to pinpoint my failures here, but I think that sometimes I look at my church as a homogenous whole rather than a collection of unique individuals. I also know that I don't always manage to get around and connect with people consistently enough.

Truthfully, none of what I've said comes close to portraying my propensity for putting myself ahead of others. That's partly so because some of my sin I will only confess to God and those closest to me. But it's also so because my words will always be insufficient to describe my own sin and its effects on those around me. But I say all of this anyway, because I too am in need of forgiveness. I too need Christ to make me new. I too need the power of the Spirit because I cannot live by my own strength.

Wholeness in Christ only happens over time and, this side of glory, will always be incomplete. And so in the meantime, we confess. We confess our lack of holiness, our tendency to sin, how we are, head to foot, selfish creatures too thinly veiled with cultural goodness. But, of course, thankfully we can do so expectantly, hopefully, prayerfully, knowing full-well that our God is gracious and quick to forgive us when come to him with hearts of contrition. It is this -- God's immeasurable goodness and infinite power to provide healing and reconciliation -- that propels us to confess, both to him and to one another.

Chasing Butterflies

We all need to play sometimes. That's something my daughter, Ella, teaches me very well.

A number of weeks ago, on a beautiful Saturday, she and I were having fun outside playing catch, ball, chase, and run. Chase and run are very similar games, one involving running to see who is the fastest and the other involving who can run the fastest to a specific location! I try to let her win as much as possible. It's actually more fun that way!

Well, on this particular day while we were playing ball, I noticed a butterfly flying behind Ella. So I pointed this out to her. And no sooner did she see it then she began chasing it. I remember her saying something like, "Daddy, let's get it!" And in her mind, this is not an altogether unrealistic goal! (She once caught a chicken when someone told her she couldn't, so there is precedent! That story will have to wait.) But of course she didn't get catch the butterfly; however, she really had a good time chasing it.

I find it particularly cool how my little girl can get lost in useless play and take me along with her. Obviously, there's no practical reason to chase butterflies (though I suppose it develops hand-eye coordination) and there needn't be one. Just chasing it, laughing all the while, is the point. That's what it's all about.

We adults don't always play very well. Everything has to have a practical reason or application. All grown up, we live often for utility. Rather than laugh with children at play, instead we laugh at children at play, at the fact that one day they too will have to put away childish things and grow up. But I'm not convinced anymore that play is childish -- though it is definitely child-like, and perhaps we need something of that in our lives more regularly.

There is something about time spent being child-like, either with children or without, in that it's only about time spent laughing, playing, having fun, and the sheer lack of utility found in joy. It's useless time in the best sense of the word. Splashing around in the pool with my three-year old girl has no further end than getting one another wet and finding ourselves giggling helplessly at our own hijnks.

Sometimes, I must confess, when I encounter some adults -- people my own age and older -- I find myself thinking now that they too could use a little more time chasing butterflies.

Object Impermanence

When I was a kid -- I can't rememeber how old I was -- I had a special toy. It was one of those "dinkie" cars, as we called them. But it wasn't just any "dinkie" car; it was the General Lee from The Dukes of Hazzard. It was new, shiny, and very much treasured by me. And one day I went outside to play, and I stuck this toy in my jeans pocket. There it remained, until the end of the day. Much to my utter disappointment and dismay, when I took this valued possession out of my pocket later on it was no longer as shiny as it had been. There were scratches on the paint. It was no longer new. I was so disappointed!

I think that part of me had this hope that my most treasured possessions -- at this age this usually meant toys and comic books -- would always be with me, ready at a moment's notice to give me pleasure and provide enjoyment.

At a very young age, children learn what's called object permanence. It's the understanding that even though a given object is out of view that it still exists. You can hide the ball from the toddler, but they still realize that the ball exists even if they can't lay their eyes on it.

On that day when my General Lee "dinkie" car was scratched up and damaged -- and my illusion of it's permanence shattered -- I learned something akin to this: object impermanence, that no objects in this world, none of our possessions, no matter how deeply treasured, are forever.

Ella, too, learned this recently. It happened on more than one occasion, but the one I remember is when she was playing with Thomas and Friends adhesives, re-usable stickers that are meant for window surfaces. The problem with these stickers is, when you stick them to one another, the ink gets peeled off. On this and a couple of other occasions, Ella asked me why something, one of her belongings, was no longer as it was or working as it used to. And so I told her that it was damaged or broken. Now she didn't cry or anything. She wasn't so much upset by this as she was curious about it. I could look in her eyes and see her processing this new knowledge. And I can only pray that we can help her turn this new-found knowledge into wisdom.

In Luke 12 Jesus tells his disciples not to worry about possessions, about what they need to live, that God, knowing full well what we need, can be trusted to provide them. In admonishing his disciples this way, Jesus shows us that he knows well our prediliction to strive for material possessions. Ultimately, Jesus is directing us to recognize the impermanence of such objects: "Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

Kids, including my little girl, can get much joy out of and put much into their toys and possessions. I suppose adults are the same; the toys just get bigger and more expensive. But we have to guard our hearts and be wary of treasuring anything that will not last. As one song says, "I never saw a U-Haul being pulled behind a hearse." Doing so keeps us from trusting God as we should, and it keeps us from valuing his Kingdom more than the things of this world. I have to continually be reminded of this too. And only when such a truth becomes more a part of me will my daughter's knowledge that her toys will not last be transformed into a life-giving wisdom that trusts more in the Creator than in any of his creations.

Screen-Time

This, I think, is the longest I've gone without posting since February. A combination of getting busy with other things, various distractions, etc., is the reason for my absence. Not that many out there were anxiously awaiting the uploading of any new reflections on my part. It's also summer, which means that life tends to take on a different sense of rhythm. We're trying, as a family, to enjoy more time together. For me, one of those crucial things enabling us to share such time are trips to one or other of the various beaches we have within driving distance. What I like about the beach is that there is nothing to do there except play in the sand with my daughter, watch my wife play in the sand with my daughter, read, maybe play guitar, and generally lie around, enjoy a cold drink, some snacks, and, most times, take the opportunity to video-tape snippets for our home movie collection.

We've also, as a family, made a new rule for the summer: reduced TV time. That is, we've all agreed to choose one video a week to watch. So far the day for videos is Friday. In case you think such a rule unrealistic, there are a few caveats: first, if Ella, our three year old, is visiting someone else, she's allowed to watch TV (say, at her grandparents' house). Second, if my wife and daughter are away for a day or two, daddy gets to watch TV. Though I still try to keep it to a minimum. Third, home movies are the exception. Within reason, we can have home movies on more often. This is good because over the last couple of weeks I've been transferring our homes movies to DVD.

What's surprising is that our little Ella hasn't found this discipline as challenging as I would have thought. You see, almost everyday she would watch a couple of videos. Moreover, it was often the first thing she would ask for when she woke up. "I want to watch a video," she would tell me. And on many occasions I would agree, if only to give myself more time to myself, to get breakfast, etc. And my wife and I also haven't found it terribly hard either. Only when they're not home for a couple of days, which happens with some regularity since my in-laws live reasonably close, do I give into the impulse to put an end to the uncomfortable silence that pervades the house with their absence. Yet even then, it's often not so much because I want to but out of habit or just because . . . like I said, the house is quiet and empty without them.

What's also surprising is how much we can enjoy a video or TV when we watch it but how little we actually miss it when we don't have it. When I was in university I used to watch a lot of TV. My roommates and I always had cable TV. And then one year I found myself with a small, 10 inch TV and no cable. All I had was one or two channels, and in poor quality. But I never missed it. Quite a comment on our habits that we can spend so much time on something that ultimately we hardly think about when it's not available or when we make a conscious decision to limit our use of it.

I wonder if we could apply that same logic to computer screen-time? And just when I got back into posting!

Preaching Through a Series: Part 3

Here's the sermon I preached today. It's the third in my series on the eight quality characteristics from NCD -- inspiring worship -- though I sort of talk more about the purpose of worship. Hope it feeds you heart and mind.

“The Why of Worship”
1 Chronicles 16:23 – 34; 1 Corinthians 14:26 – 33

Introduction—Why worship?

Ella’s now at the point—that favourite stage for all parents!—where it seems one of her favourite questions is, “Why?” And sometime she’ll ask that question, but I won’t know how to answer! So, like the good daddy that I am, I resort to that ol’ standby, “Because!” Well, that’s not a very good answer. As I found out from Alisha and her Mum, “Because is not the why of something!”

And we all ask that question sometimes—“Why?” But usually we’re more specific. For instance, we’ll be somewhere and ask ourselves, “Why am I here?” Have you ever been in a church service and asked, “Why am I here?” Now if you asked yourself that this morning, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know!

We’re told in Hebrews 10:25 not to give up meeting together for corporate worship. But why do we worship? Why are we here today? No doubt if anyone asks us why we go to church, we’ll say, “To worship.” This just begs the question. And we can’t just say, “Because,” because “because is not the why of something.”

I once heard worship described this way: Worship is our response to what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. But how do we respond to what God has done for us in Jesus? One of the eight quality characteristics of Natural Church Development is an “inspiring worship service.” In using the word “inspiring” to describe the kind of worship service a healthy church has, it’s saying that the worship service is an enjoyable experience for people. But as I was thinking about this, I began to ask myself, what is the purpose of worship? Why do we get together to sing songs, listen to sermons, and pray? So we’re going to talk about “the why of worship” this morning. I have three “why we worship” reasons: to glorify God; to edify one another; and to reach out to others.

To Glorify God

Whenever someone we know does something well or something right one of the things we try and do is praise her or him. That is, we take time to recognize his or her accomplishment or achievement. Sometimes we even applaud—we literally clap!—to show our appreciation for what she or he has done. We’ve done this with Ella. We often do this if someone sings a song in church. And I’m sure that we’ve all done this with our kids, grand-kids or great grand-kids or someone else when they’ve deserved it.

Such praise is healthy and good and expresses our appreciation or enjoyment of what someone else has done. This is like telling a waitress, “My compliments to the chef for the wonderful meal!” We can hardly have fully enjoyed and appreciated who God is and what God has done until we praise him—until we glorify him through our worship. And indeed the first purpose of worship is to glorify God.

In the Westminster Larger Catechism, which was written in the 17th century, the very first question asked is this: “What is the chief end of man?” In other words, what is our first and most important purpose for being here? What ought to be our highest goal and deepest aspiration? The answer the Catechism gives is this: “Man’s chief and highest end is to glorify God, and fully to enjoy him forever.”

Our passage from 1 Chronicles 16 tells us the same thing: “Sing to the Lord . . . Declare his glory among the nations . . . For great is the Lord and greatly to be praised . . . Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name . . . Worship the Lord in holy splendor.” This is why we sing—to focus our attention on God by praising who he is and what he has done. There are lots of other biblical passages that call us to worship God, to praise him, to glorify him in song. The apostle Paul also tells the Ephesians to “make music from your heart to the Lord.”

Marva Dawn, in her book on worship A Royal “Waste” of Time, says “the entire reason for our worship is that God deserves it.” But he doesn’t need it. When I praise Ella for something she’s done right or well, this will help her grow in confidence; it will make her feel better about herself. That’s not why we praise God. We do so because he deserves it. With all that he’s done for us—and because of who he is—he is worthy of our praise.

Praising him also focuses our attention on him. This gets our minds off ourselves. When we come here on a Sunday morning, we come loaded down with our cares, concerns, distractions, our real and felt needs, our hopes and expectations of the worship service and one another. Focusing on God gets us back on track by helping us realize that God is bigger than all our problems.

Focusing on God by praising and worshipping him also gets our minds off other people in the church for a moment—I’m not here to be distracted why this person or that person irritates me. Have you ever been distracted by someone else during a worship service?

I heard a story about the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. Deeply immersed in meditation during a church service, he failed to kneel at the appropriate moment. Remember, this was a Catholic Mass, which involves more standing and kneeling and sitting than we are used to! Well, when they saw this, his enemies hurried to the bishop and demanded that Dante be punished for his sacrilege. Dante defended himself by saying, “If those who accuse me had had their eyes and minds on God, as I had, they too would have failed to notice events around them, and they most certainly would not have noticed what I was doing.”

Worship, first and foremost, is about having our eyes and minds on God. And so we come to worship God—to praise and glorify him—to remind ourselves that worship—our gathering together on a Sunday morning as a congregation—is not about us; it’s about him. Sometimes, but not always, we think and act more like Dante’s enemies than Dante. Worship helps correct that tendency.

So when I deliberately follow Scripture’s commands to “sing to the Lord,” “ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name,” and “worship the Lord in holy splendor,” I am fulfilling the Lord’s command and the purpose for which he has made me: To glorify him and fully to enjoy him forever; for to glorify God is the first and most important purpose of worship.

To think about this practically, perhaps we can ask ourselves the following question: When coming into a worship service, do you ever feel prepared to worship or are you usually distracted? Distractions can be good or bad—a bad situation at home or a good conversation with a fellow church-goer can both equally distract. Preparing for worship is a part of worship. How can we prepare ourselves to worship? Perhaps a few moments of prayer and quiet. Perhaps listening to Christian music before the service begins. It is important to prepare ourselves if possible because in preparing ourselves we are also reminding ourselves that God comes first and not us.

To Edify One Another

One of the things I love is when we have a church service where a bunch of people are participating—someone is reading Scripture, someone is doing the children’s story, someone sings a special song, someone offers a testimony to what God has been doing in their life. So while I know that there is a certain—but flexible!—time constraint on a Sunday morning service, my general policy is “the more the merrier”!

And biblically speaking “the more the merrier” principle also applies. The very first verse of our passage from 1 Corinthians says this: “What should be done then, my friends? When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation.”

Someone told me about a conversation they once had. This person happened to comment to a friend that they thought the pastor should have to preach on Sunday morning and nothing else, that other members of the congregation should jointly cover whatever else a worship service involves. Someone else should pray. Someone else should lead in worship. Someone else should do the children’s story. Their friend disagreed and suggested that the pastor should do everything on a Sunday morning—that is, after all, why he is being paid! The other person, surprised at this, asked their friend, “What do you want from your pastor?” And their friend replied, “I want his blood!”

But this isn’t the biblical picture. Like Paul says, “When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation . . .” Paul’s assumption is that several people participate in a worship service. Paul assumes the “more the merrier principle.”

Why is this important? Paul also says, “Let all things be done for building up.” The idea of building up means to edify—this means to encourage and strengthen others in their faith. This is the second purpose of worship: To edify one another. We all know this from experience that a worship service with more people participating, whatever gifts they bring, is always a more enjoyable experience than a service where only a few are involved. This is how a church is built, not out of wood, concrete, and glass, but out of people worshipping God and edifying one another. And “the more the merrier!”

Maybe there is some way you can encourage someone else in the church today. Maybe you have a talent or a gift that you think would strengthen the faith of those around you. Or perhaps you can think of something we can add to the worship service that would make it more edifying to others, something that would make coming together more enjoyable. If so, let me know! The more the merrier because when we edify one another, we become stronger Christians, a stronger church, and God is glorified.

To Reach Out to Others

When I was going to Acadia Divinity College, I found out that it didn’t always have the greatest reputation with the rest of the campus. It was sometimes perceived as this closed-off, out of the way building at the top of the campus. There was often very little engagement or interaction between students at the college and the students of the university. To some extent, this does make some sense, since there was no overlap in classes and many students at the college also have family and church responsibilities in addition to studies. But the college still ended up getting labelled by some “the holy huddle up the hill.”

The last thing any Christian community should be is a “holy huddle on a hill.” Instead, Jesus calls us to be a lamp on a lamp-stand, a city on a hill, and the light of the world in whatever town, city, village, of local service district we find ourselves in. The very presence of a church ought to make a difference to a community. If it doesn’t, something is wrong. If a church can close and lock its doors without most of the community noticing, much less caring, something has gone wrong. Such a church has become a “holy huddle.”

I said earlier that the Westminster Catechism’s description of our ultimate purpose is “To glorify God and fully to enjoy him forever.” Put simply, we are all created to worship. But not everyone worships God. What do we to do about this? Do we remain in our “holy huddle” edifying one another? If we do this, is it still possible for us and our worship to honour and glorify God?

If the first purpose of worship is to glorify God, and the second is to edify one another, then the third is to reach out to others. I want to suggest this morning that an important fruit of our worship is evangelism. But we often hear the word “evangelism” and are intimidated. I know that I can feel this way. Believe me, not all pastors naturally share their faith in Jesus in casual conversation! But even if none of us here is an evangelist, we are still called, according to 2 Timothy 4:5, to do the work of evangelism, the work of reaching others with the love of Jesus.

But how do we reach out? This is why Natural Church Development talks about need-oriented evangelism—reaching out to our community in ways that serve the people in our neighbourhood. So rather than think of terms like “evangelism” and “witnessing,” think instead of someone who runs a repair shop for bicycles out of the church; think of a church that restores a run-down playground and ballpark for use by all the community; or think of a church that welcomes people who have just moved into the community with a welcome basket or a fresh-baked pie. Such things open the doors of the church to the wider community and opens us up to relationships with people in the community. These are some ways any church can get out of its “holy huddle” and show others the love of God. And these are things that those who of us who are shy about verbally sharing our faith can do.

And of course when we reach out to others, our motivation ought to be to lead others to worship and glorify God. Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Worship should lead to our reaching out to others and reaching out to others hopefully leads to more worship!

Conclusion

I said at the start that I once heard worship described as our response to what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. So if we ever wonder why we worship, I think that gives us a good start. These words from Titus 3:3 – 7 give us a really good head-start too:

“At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.”

You know, Titus is not one of those books we talk about very much, but that passage gives us as good a description of our salvation in Christ as any other. And while nothing in these verses describe or define worship per se, the passage does give us the reason why we worship at all. It reinforces that definition of worship I mentioned: Worship is our response to God has done for us in Jesus Christ.

And our worshipful response happens when we take time to glorify God together through our praise and our thanksgiving, making melody with our hearts; when we edify one another, helping fellow believers grow in faith; and when we reach out to others, move out of our “holy huddle” so that others may be touched by the love of God and join with us in glorifying him; that we might, just as in Revelation all the angels of heaven do, fall down on our faces before the throne and worship God, saying, “Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God forever and ever. Amen!” As our hymn says, “To God be the glory!” Amen?

The Challenge of Ministry

Ever since becoming a pastor I've been challenged spiritually in ways that I hadn't been before. I think this is because having the responsibility to lead other Christians makes me much more aware of my own weaknesses and flaws. So if there are ways that I have still to grow spiritually, I can't very well help others grow in that way. I can't lead anyone where I haven't been.

The challenge is that perhaps as a pastor I feel more than other Christians the responsibility to grow spiritually and work on my relationship with God not only for my own sake but for the sake of others. For if as a pastor I am not growing in my own spiritual walk, if I am not active in prayer, Bible study, etc., then this will have an effect on people in my congregation. It will show up in my preaching, in my ability to minister to them spiritually, and in my attempts to build up the ministries of the church and provide leadership. If I were just another person in the pew, so to speak, I could neglect my own faith without others experiencing detrimental effects to theirs. Or so I could think.

Well, I do think so, at least to some extent, but I don't want to give the impression that pastors are a class apart from other believers. I don't want to give the impression that pastors intrinsically have more influence on other Christians than other Christians. Truth be told, probably in a lot of cases I have less influence on the people in my church than they have on one another. And if this is so, then that is as it should be in the body of Christ.

But I suppose that as a pastor I have more influence than other Christians in our congregation on the general direction, tone, sense of mission, and overall atmosphere of our church community. That can be a heavy responsibility. And given that, just like any believer, I have my own spiritual weaknesses, failings, spiritual blindspots, and more persistent temptations, there are moments when I feel the weight of it even more profoundly.

In no other vocation is personal faith so tied to one's daily responsibilities. While most Christians can go to their respective jobs and workplaces without bringing their faith directly into the picture, as a pastor there is less of a clear demarcation line between the personal and professional. They spill over into one another.

This isn't also to say that Christians who pursue other careers, jobs, employment, etc., aren't supposed to allow their faith to shine through in their relationships with co-workers and employers, but odds are they can perform their jobs just as effectively whether they do so or not. The skill set required of their position doesn't likely include prayer and biblical exegesis!

For as a pastor my primary responsibility is to devote myself to prayer and Scripture study. These two practices ought to form a large part of my "work-week." Yet if I wasn't a pastor, as a believer prayer and reading my Bible would still be a part of my daily life. It's just that I would have to work around a pre-existing job schedule. I'd have to find time for these things outside my work hours. As it is, prayer and Bible study are a part of my nine-to-five. That in itself distinguishes me as a pastor from my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Getting back to where I started, such a vocation is a spiritual challenge precisely because a personal spiritual walk is a challenge; and they are both challenges in similar ways. And even the significant distinguishing characteristic, that I pray as a part of my nine-to-five and others prayer in addition to their nine-to-five, isn't that significant after all.

I just mean that since every Christian is a member of the body of Christ, we are all responsible for one another's spiritual growth. As Paul says, we are "members of one another." To that end, we're all ministers. There is no lay person-clergy distinction. There is, but only in terms of spiritual function and level of spiritual maturity. But we are all charged with the job of helping each other follow Jesus more faithfully.

The challenge I feel as a pastor in my own spiritual walk is one that should be common to us all. It's just that as a pastor that sense of responsibility has been thrown into sharp relief. It's more pronounced is all, because it's both whom I am and what I do. If other believers in any given congregation don't feel this challenge in some measure -- a challenge to grow in their faith and to help others grow likewise -- then this speaks to their own relationship with God, and not necessarily in a positive way. Life throws lots of roadblocks and potholes in our way as we travel on the highway of faith, and sometimes this means we sidestep these challenges and instead decide simply to get along with a bare minimum. But of course, Peter tells us to "make every effort." Though the formation of Christian character and the maturation of disciples takes place through in the power of the Spirit, the Spirit can accomplish nothing of value in our lives if we are not willing to cooperate.

So I think what I said at the beginning isn't true. Not exactly. Yes, there are challenges specific to pastoral ministry. But I've always been challenged in the ways I've been talking about this whole -- challenged to pray more consistently, to read Scripture more faithfully, to follow Jesus more obediently -- and as a pastor I think I've just found that I've been challenged in these areas more deeply and more profoundly. I can't quite explain it. But, again, all Christians are rightfully challenged in these areas. Maybe as a pastor I just find myself face to face with these challenges in way that is unique to this vocation in finding myself straddling that divide between personal and professional.

As one fellow blogger often puts it, enough rambling.

Sorry, no pictures.

Thinking About Prayer: Part 4

This is the fourth installment of what has turned out to be an occasional series of reflections on prayer. Hence the title. With the first post, I hadn't intended it to be so. But prayer is one of those topics that has interested me for a long time. And so it's no surprise that I return to it time and again. In fact, my MA thesis is on prayer; specifically, on the Lord's Prayer and theologian Karl Barth's understanding of it.

Especially during the years when I was studying for my MA, I read a fair bit of Barth, a habit that has waned in more recent years. His approach to theology -- particularly his doctrine of revelation and his doctrine of the Trinity -- had already piqued my interest during my BA years and so when my systematics professor pointed out that Barth was the only major 20th century Protestant theologian to give significant attention to prayer I decided he ought to be the subject of my thesis.

One of Barth's works that nurtured both my interest in his theology and in the relationship between theology and prayer was a little book of lectures called Evangelical Theology: An Introduction. In this book Barth reflects on the task of the theologian and of theology, and in a section on the work of theology he puts prayer at the front. Today during my own prayer and devotional time, I decided to read this chapter on prayer and I found lots of wonderful food for thought, for mind and for heart.

Beginning this chapter on prayer, Barth says that

"The first and most basic act of theological work is prayer . . . [and that] theological work does not merely begin with prayer and is not merely accompanied by it; in its totality it is peculiar and characteristic of theology that it can only be performed in the act of prayer."

And as I was reading this I found myself inserting preacher or pastor when he wrote theologian and inserting preaching whenever he talked about doing theology. It was a perfect fit, of course. What he says is true of theologians and their work is also true of pastors and their work. Barth says this himself when he comments that theological work "must have the character of an offering" to God and that such theological work includes

"the tiniest problem of exegesis or dogmatics, or the clarification of the most modest fragment of the history of the Church of Jesus Christ, but, above all, if it is the preparation of a sermon, lesson, or Bible study."

I also like the fact that Barth designates preaching as theological work.

Even when you're a pastor it's not difficult to forego prayer for more busy-work. Pressure to get things done, including our sermons, lead us to neglect prayer. What ought to be the fruit of a life of prayer ends up replacing prayer in our daily routines. Sometimes I think that this is because prayer seems less useful than actually typing sermons or preparing a Bible study. And sometimes I think that this is because prayer is actually harder than preparing a sermon or Bible study. But robbing my sermons of prayer is robbing my preaching of not only its heart but its power. That is, preaching without prayer is tantamount to depending on the power of my very human words rather than depending on God's Spirit.

Knowing this, Barth writes,

"For in prayer a man temporarily turns away from his own efforts. This move is necessary precisely for the sake of the duration and continuation of his own work. Every prayer has its beginning when a man puts himself (together with his best and most accomplished work) out of the picture. He leaves himself and his work behind in order once again to recollect that he stands before God."

Great stuff. I know that I need this sort of reminding regularly. I also love this:

"A man prays, not in order to sacrifice his work or even to neglect it, but in order that may not remain or become unfruitful work, so that he may do it under the illumination and, consequently, under the rule and blessing of God."

I'm not sure if this is what Barth is getting at, but sometimes we can neglect prayer because we don't want to sacrifice our real work. We don't want to neglect what we think is more important or what may be more utilitarian concerns. No wonder Barth describes prayer as the first part of theological work. Placing it under the rubric of theological work is Barth's attempt to re-orient our thinking of what prayer actually is and how theological work -- preaching, teaching, and, indeed, the whole of the Christian life -- is theological work, properly speaking, insofar as it is the fruit of the fellowship we have with God through Jesus Christ. Put simply, a sermon is a genuine sermon only if it is borne of time spent in prayer in the presence of the God the sermon attempts to proclaim. And when this happens, when a sermon emerges from such holy communion, the sermon itself, the very act of preaching itself, is prayer-full.

So this morning, when I began to think about finishing my sermon, I stopped short of jumping right in to work on the manuscript itself. I wrote much of my sermon on Tuesday, and, technically, there is not a whole lot left to do; that is, if one just considers the outline, the points, the attempt to draw out practical application, and the illustrations, all that remains is an introduction and a conclusion, some of which I already have in note-form. Yet instead of running ahead and writing I sat and read Barth which reminded me of the importance of prayer in preaching, in ministry, and, truthfully, in life. I was convicted, too, because sometimes my attention to prayer is sporadic and inconsistent. Dare I admit this as a pastor? Either way, I am thankful that Barth reminded me that there is a great deal more to preaching, as well as theology, than a series of well-constructed sentences, paragraphs, and points. He reminded me of other things as well in this profound chapter on prayer, but rather than ramble on any more I think I'll actually spend some time following his advice: ora et labora!

"I want to want . . ."

Last night when my deacons and I met with our regional minister to discuss our NCD survey results, we talked at one point about the difference between aspirational values and actual values. Aspirational values are the values we say we have. For instance, as believers we say that we want to spend our lives serving Christ and glorifying God, but our actual values -- how we actually live and spend our time -- demonstrate that we'd often (or at least sometimes) rather live ordinary lives enjoying at least modest creature comforts without ever having to journey beyond our comfort zones.

Thinking of this tonight made me think that while I can say, "I want to serve Christ and glorify God, what I really mean is, "I want to want to serve Christ and glorify God." At least it can be that way. Even our noblest aspirations are eroded by self-interest. Realizing that so often even my desires are skewed by sin, I see that I don't always want what I should want. Sometimes this is true when we worship and sing a variety of lyrics that tend toward the aspirational rather than the actual. We express things in words, in song, that we don't altogether mean or feel. We confess in sung prayers that we want more of God in our lives, that we long for a deeper relationship with him when in reality there are times that our behaviour demonstrates the opposite: we really want our own way, our own desires met, and we want as little interference from God as possible.

This isn't to say that our worship or our aspirations are therefore disingenuous. Rather, it's about recognizing that our desires -- what we want -- also need to be transformed. Only through the work of the Spirit can the aspirational be gradually turned into the actual. Only through the messy work of prayer, worship, Bible study, fellowship, and daily discipleship do we become what we ought to be and therefore more fully want what we ought to want: to serve Christ and glorify God. This is what I want, anyway; or at least it's what I want to want.

Preaching Through a Series: Part 2

I'm gradually working through a sermon series that is based on the Natural Church Development eight quality characteristics. You can see part 1 of this post here. And here is that list of characteristics again:

1. Gift-oriented ministry (already done: "Being Gifts")
2. Loving Relationships (already done: "The Gift of Love")
3. Inspiring Worship (this week: "The Why of Worship")
4. Passionate Spirituality
5. Holistic Small Groups
6. Empowering Leadership
7. Effective Structures
8. Need-oriented Evangelism

As you can see, with the third message I've deviated already from the "gift" metaphor. No big deal. The real point is to work through the topics. I sort of wish now that I had introduced the series more deliberately from the start. Instead, I just began it without letting people know that I was beginning a series. This was because I wasn't completely sure whether I was beginning a series. I was trying out the topics tentatively. So this week I think I need to be more vocal about what I'm doing. Also, this week I had a meeting with my deacons and our regional pastor about the NCD survey we did. It was an excellent experience going over the results of the survey together. While one never knows the future, it feels like we're just at the cusp of being more intentional and creative with ministry at our church. Having been presented with the result of the survey, we are in the position of a patient who's just gotten a diagnosis from a doctor. What we do with the doctor's information is up to us.

One thing this has made me think about is that I really want to be here at this church for as long as the Lord wills. I even feel that as a pastor that I am still very much learning how to pastor and lead. Having the opportunity to lead a church through this process, and anticipating how people will be encouraged by increasing health and growth, is enough to make me want to see this through the long-haul. Of course, that's not enough to keep me here. The call to ministry does that. Only the knowledge that God has placed me in this church provides the incentive to continue. Because there are, no doubt, going to be times -- or at least days -- when ministry will not be enjoyable or fun but difficult and even discouraging. And on those days it won't be the hope that God will bring more encouraging moments and times that gets me through but confidence that God has more in mind for our church and for our community.

"Never do today . . ."

Well, today I mowed my lawn. It's needed doing for at least a couple of weeks -- and so prior to my mowing the lawn, it looked more like a tropical rain-forest than a back-lawn. Who knows what bizarre creatures were slinking about beneath the ridiculously long blades of grass! All number of things caused me to put it off. There were various circumstances, including rainy weather and having to get the car fixed. Not to mention that I usually try and make sure to get church work done before yard-work. But the truth is, it's never hard to find reasons (read: excuses) to leave yard-work for another day. Oddly, once I'm actually in the middle of mowing the lawn, I generally don't mind it. And even more oddly there are occasions when I actually enjoy getting outside and getting such things done. Yet I still put it off. "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today," the proverb goes. My attitude, though, toward yard-work usually reverses this proverbial wisdom: "Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow!" Including mowing my lawn. Maybe especially so.

So my question is, if once I get going I don't mind it so much, why is it that I put it off or find excuses to leave it to another day?

A good friend of mine once coined a definition of procrastination: "Procrastination: the art of using one's relaxation time to produce stress." And he coined this with particular reference to his habit of leaving the writing of essays and sermons to the last minute -- though the ideas had already been simmering in his head for some time. But actually sitting down and doing the work of putting thoughts on paper usually didn't happen until the night or two before. It was the time-crunch, the reality of an imminent deadline, that spurred him on.

On another occasion he and I were supposed to be preparing for a Greek mid-term. This was when we were fellow-students in seminary. It was the night before the mid-term, and I was really getting stressed partly because we weren't really getting around to studying. Though my friend wasn't at all stressed; again, the pressure of time actually made it easier for him somehow. He kept saying to me, "Don't worry about it. We'll be fine!" Well, I had no confidence that this was so. Thankfully, despite my stress and our mutual procrastination we both did well on the mid-term.

Anyway, I am not the kind of person who thrives under that kind of pressure. I might put off mowing the lawn but I will do everything I can to get an early handle on my sermon, for instance, as soon as possible during the week. The closer I get to Sunday morning without a complete or near-complete sermon, which does happen on occasion, the more nervous I'm likely to get. I'm not a fan of "Saturday night specials," when I find myself on my knees on a Saturday evening praying for a text and a title! Though, thankfully, this is an area where I am learning to trust God more and more. So even if I do find myself in this situation, either because of circumstances beyond my control or because of poor time management, I don't react as often with sheer panic. Not like when I was worrying about a Greek mid-term!

Of course, all this aside, not many -- including me -- are likely to panic over a lawn needing to be mowed. So putting that off is much easier. An unseemly looking yard has never caused me too much stress. If it has, it's only because I've got so much else to do in a given week and leaving the lawn too long means a standard mower will not do the trick; I'll need a bush-hog! And if it has, it's because it's just one more thing -- even if one more mundane thing -- that I have to get done. I found this to be the case when we were pastoring at our last church where I was bi-vocational. Having a full-time job on top of being a part-time pastor meant that time was a valuable commodity.

Truthfully, that's why I've got the tendency to put off mowing the lawn here. It's not so much so that I despise the task, but that it takes time away from what I generally consider more important things. If I take time this afternoon to work on the yard, will I make getting my sermon on time more difficult? Probably, but in how many other ways do I fail to manage my time well so that getting prepared for Sunday or for some other responsibility is more difficult? Frankly, sometimes it's my fault. And it's got nothing to do with mowing the lawn.

Christian stewardship involves our finances, other resources, our gifts and energy, and also our time. Without discipline, responsible stewardship proves much more challenging. I can't speak for anyone else, but I find managing time to involve the most discipline and therefore the most difficulties. I don't think we should micro-manage our days, but I know that I tend to thrive best when I have some manner of routine in place, one that provides a sense of managed time. Discipline goes hand in hand with freedom.

God provides a sense of time through creation -- seven days, each with its own work of creating, day and night, seasons and years, rest and work. There is a rhythm to creation, to time as God has shaped it. To that end, you could say that God has imbued creation with a sense of managed time. And God certainly didn't create the world by saying, "Well, never do today what I can put off until tomorrow."

Ramblings about friendship inspired by late-night surfing . . .

For the last couple of weeks my allergies have been a daily annoyance, sometimes waking me up in the middle of the night and keeping me up for nearly an hour at a time until my allergy medication takes effect. One consequence of this is that I end up feeling completely drug out the next day. Mornings, typically my prime work time, find me wandering around zombie-like. Concentration is nearly non-existent. Last week especially felt like a complete loss. Though ironically it was on a night when I found myself awake at 3am that I finally realized what my Sunday sermon was supposed to be about. This was Friday night (technically Saturday morning). Once the idea was settled -- a message looking at 2 & 3 John -- the rest came quite quickly. It was what my mother-in-law would call a "God-thing." I agree with her.

On one of the many nights I found myself sniffing and sneezing unable to sleep I found myself on the computer surfing. In particular, I was looking up old friends, checking out their blogs, and seeing if I could find out what they were presently up to. I didn't have a whole lot of luck. But it got me thinking.

Since moving back to NB from Ontario and getting married and becoming a dad, my time has pretty much been divided between home and church, between family and ministry. My world has contracted. Most days, once my daughter is in bed all I usually want to do is relax, spend time with my wife, and precious little else. What this means is that I have largely lost touch with most friends. I rarely am in contact with anyone other than immediate family and church folk. My wife has long since given up exhorting me to call friends who live long distance. In my own defense, old friends have rarely shown initiative in keeping in touch with me. It can cut both ways. But this says something about how, once we're no longer in school and find ourselves married with children or busy with ministry or work, our priorities definitely change. How we use what time we have is usually predetermined by family and career. Other things often fall off the radar. It's not that we deliberately shut out old friends, but that anything which doesn't immediately relate to life right here and right now gets crowded out.

Being in my mid-30s also means that making new friends isn't easy. I'm not going anywhere most of the time where I am likely to meet new people who might become friends. I recall a Seinfeld joke that said that the friends you have once you're in your 30s are your friends -- you're not getting anymore! I don't think that's precisely true, but as a pastor in a small town it is hard to make friends. The members of your congregation can't usually be the sort of friends that you catch a movie with. I don't often think of this, but on those occasions when my wife and daughter are away for a day or two I do sometimes wish there was someone I could call and get together with, someone who shared my interests without also knowing me as a pastor.

I have a Facebook account. I never use it, and so I should just cancel it and close down my profile. Anyone I know who is on Facebook will browse my profile in vain for new information, updates, or recent pictures. I've never been motivated enough to maintain it. I once did close my profile but opened it again so I could find out if a friend's wife had their baby. But it does seem to me that Facebook has taken over from e-mail and other options as the preferred means of keeping in touch with friends, old and new. I almost feel guilty for not using it, as though somehow I've committed the sin of not-keeping-up-with-the-latest-in-communication-technology and as a result have demonstrated a complete lack of interest in keeping up with friends, especially old friends. I only know that the little experience I have with Facebook seems to bear out my feeling that it could easily become a major time drain. I guess I don't have any sound reasons for missing friends, not if I don't make the effort afforded by the technological options available.

Sniff, Sniff, Snore, Snore

Between my wife and I, she is the one who has more health issues. Typically, if one of us is sick, nine times out of ten it will be her and not me. But that doesn't mean I'm without my own health issues. For instance, one of my ongoing issues is sleep apnea. This condition means that I periodically stop breathing while sleeping. It also means that even if I sleep for eight or more hours on a given night, I can still feel completely exhausted the next day. I have slept but not rested. To help with this condition I actually have to wear this odd contraption, an air mask that prevents the apnea from stopping my breathing. Anyone who sees it thinks it very odd. You might wonder how anyone could sleep while wearing it! But over the last couple of years I've gotten used to it.

Unfortunately wearing this mask has gotten more difficult over the last couple of weeks. This is because I also have allergies -- hayfever, as it is sometimes called -- and I've been waking up with stuffed up sinuses, sneezing and sniffing, unable to wear my mask. I'll take some allergy medication, and wait for it to take affect. Wearing my apnea mask while I'm dealing with allergies is basically impossible. So there are two things keeping me from sleeping well: not wearing my mask because of allergies that are acting up and the allergies themselves, which make it hard to sleep. The last three or four days have been the worst, and even though I've ended up sleeping in a little I still feel drug out when I climb out of bed.

Yesterday morning after I got up it wasn't long before our little girl woke up. And when she got up, it was the morning routine as usual: potty, breakfast, get dressed, and either a video or some other activity. But for some reason, I felt quite short. I had a lot less patience than usual. Things that normally don't irritate me did. I didn't feel this way for long before I realized that it was because of my lack of restful sleep. And today I sort of feel the same way, though not as bad. I don't have much energy or get up and go. I might get some other kind of allergy medication today. What I've been taking these lasty couple of weeks doesn't seem to having the effect it initially did. So I hope to get a better night's sleep soon! Unfortunately, sometime this week I need to mow our lawn, and there's no way that will help my sniffer. Maybe this is a good reason to find someone else to mow my lawn? That I wouldn't mind!

Trouble With Cars

Today Alisha, Ella, and I were supposed to go into town and deposit my paycheck, run some errands, and get groceries. We're basically at that point where the only option for supper is canned beans or . . . No, canned beans is essentially it! So we were all ready to head out, but when we started the car it made a very funny, unpleasant, metallic scratching-squeaking noise. We opted to stay home, not sure that travelling to the city would do our car any good.

So at the moment we're stranded.

The trouble with cars is that they are a huge expense. Gas prices keep escalating, and it looks now like we'll have to have some sort of repair work done. But you can't do without one these days, at least not when you live in the country and everything is a commute. Thankfully, the car is paid off in June but we were hoping to have it last for a few more years at least. But you never know. Ironically, one reason we need to deposit my pay ASAP is because on Thursday our car payment comes out of our account. But our car is keeping us from getting there for the moment.

For now, we're home waiting to hear back from one of a number of people who know much more about cars than either of us. And I'm praying that whatever the trouble, it won't be overly expensive to fix. Can you pray the same thing for us? We'd appreciate it!

Postscript (sometime later): Our neighbour, who knows a great deal about our cars, took ours for a ride and told us that it was probably our rear brakes making the noise, though they were working fine. He said that it is safe to drive but that we should have it looked at soon. We now have an appointment at our mechanic's tomorrow. Soon enough? Our prayers continue that this won't break our bank . . .

False Advertising

Whenever I put a video or DVD on for my daughter--who is now just more than three and a half--we almost always fast-forward the commercials and ads that normally proceed the actual program. We began this habit when we discovered that just because we felt the program was acceptable, we didn't always feel the same way about the preceding advertisements. This morning I put on a Peanuts cartoon (the perennial classic, Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!) on for her and when I asked her what the commercials were for, she told me, "They try and buy you stuff!" Now if only that were literally true! But she gets the idea anyway. Hopefully, then, she will continue to see advertising for what it usually is: a medium for fooling us into thinking that we need a specific product or service to be fulfilled or happy. And since there is no way any product or service can live up to its promises, pretty much all advertising is, in this sense, false advertising.

A Thousand Words?

Well, as you can see, I've added something to my blog. I'm not sure if this is a good idea or not, so it may or may not last. At the very least I may change the picture. Though my wife likes this one. Whether it's worth a thousand words, I don't want to know what those words might be!

Oh, I think this post has the distinction of being my shortest post ever. Far less than a thousand words.

I'll be back later . . .

Today's Sermon

Well, below is today's sermon. I wanted to convey the importance of cultivating loving relationships and friendships with fellow Christians as an implication of already being loved by God. I don't think I managed to communicate as effectively as I would have liked the importance of friendships within the church, but perhaps I can do that another Sunday. It can be difficult to know sometimes how effective a sermon has been. As another pastor recently told me, "There are very few watershed sermons!" How right he is! But thankfully God can use even our meager efforts. I hope these words bless and encourage you too.

“The Gift of Love”
1 Corinthians 12:27 – 13:13; 1 John 4:7 – 21

Introduction—the art of re-gifting

We’ve all received lots of gifts over the years. Most gifts we have probably forgotten; some of them we never even use; and some of them we keep and enjoy. And some of these gifts we keep but we never really use them ourselves. They end up in closets, boxes, and storage rooms. And then when it comes time to give someone else a gift—either for a birthday or for Christmas or for some other occasion—we do the unthinkable, the unimaginable. We do what we would never admit out loud: we ­re­-gift.

Haven’t you ever done this? That little trinket you didn’t want to set out on the coffee table you gave to someone else. That book you knew you’d never read you gave to someone else. That CD you knew you’d never listen to you gave to someone else. That sweater you knew you’d never wear you gave to someone else. Don’t tell me I’m alone!

Good or bad, re-gifting is about giving to someone else what we’ve already been given. Now, if we do this with a sweater or a CD it likely means we didn’t much like this gift ourselves. When we received it and said, “You shouldn’t have,” we really mean it, and in more ways than one! The things we re-gift are usually things we didn’t like or want; and so we re-gift to get rid of it (and maybe to rid ourselves of the guilt that we don’t like it!).

But when we receive gifts we do like and enjoy, usually the last thought that crosses our minds is passing it on to someone else. Gifts we like, we keep. Gifts that we deem worthwhile, we hang onto. But what if we were to reverse this logic? What if we instead adopted the attitude that we should give away the good gifts we receive? And what if I was to suggest that the only way to truly appreciate a gift is when we give it to someone else and allow someone else to appreciate it and enjoy it too?

The particular gift I have in mind, one that most of us here know of, is the gift of love. And love is the sort of gift that we can only truly receive once we have learned to re-gift it, to give it away to someone else; failing to do so means failing to understand the true nature of love. Having received it, we pass it on. This is what it means to respond to the love we have received from God. It means, as we will see, cultivating loving relationships where friendships are the goal. And it also means having to extend grace to our brothers and sisters in Christ; loving one another means, at times, forgiving one another. And being able to forgive—to see past how others have wronged us—draws us further into the love of God who forgave us in Christ. The forgiveness we have received, we also give; doing so, therefore, is at the heart of relationships within the church as well as the relationship between ourselves and God. And it is precisely these sorts of loving relationships that we are after as believers in Jesus Christ.

Giving the gift of love means responding to God’s love

Our first point this morning is this: Giving the gift of love means responding to God’s love. And the point of this point is this: We love others because God loves us; our loving relationships are modelled on our relationship with God. What God has given us, we willingly give to others.

Alisha’s friend Janis has always held loosely onto her possessions—with one exception: a pair of patch-work, quilt-style pants. I guess she just loved these pants. Though not much of a clothes person, she was very excited about these pants. Well, Janis was working at Circle Square Ranch at the time and when her supervisor, the head cook, saw these pants she absolutely loved them! And she told Janis so.

Janis felt like God was telling her to give her boss the pants. And giving them up was hard because she did love them so much. But, as I said, she always held unto her possessions loosely because she knew that all she had came from God. That included these pants. So she gave them away. And the person almost refused to take them, knowing how much Janis liked them. As a result of this gesture, she shared things with Janis that opened up more opportunities for friendship. Janis was also blessed by giving away. What she gave was what God had given her. She was responding to God’s generosity in her life.

When we re-gift love—show love to those around us—we are simply responding to the fact that God has given us love first. We receive love first from God—he is the source of love; indeed, God is love. Love defines his essence; it is who he is. But the love we receive from God doesn’t stop with us, but is meant to flow through us to those around us. Just as we have received the gift of love from God, so we are to give the gift of love. As 1 John 4:8 says, “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love,” and a little later in verse 11 John says, “Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.”

Even our giving of love to others is something enabled by God’s Spirit—love is the pinnacle of the fruit of the Spirit. John points this out to in verse 13 when he says that, “By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit.” Having a character shaped by the quality of love means being someone who is patient and kind, who lives toward others in the manner that God relates to us. This means to grow in love and to show such love, we need to be in relationships. In particular, we need to be in relationships with other believers. As a community we need to be around and with one another—in relationship with one another—in order to give the love we have been given.

Giving the gift of love means cultivating loving relationships

Our second point this morning is the most important point. We’ll spend most of our time on it. It is an implication of the first: Giving the gift of love means cultivating loving relationships. The point of this point is this: Modelling our relationships in the church on our relationship with God means actively pursuing loving friendships with fellow Christians. It means cultivating trust, openness, and acceptance. Let’s unpack this a bit.

When we were living in Hoyt we would let our dog, Miss T., outside without a lot of supervision. This turned out to be a bad idea. One morning I got a loud knock at our door from our neighbour Brad. Miss T. had gotten into his garbage and it was now everywhere. I felt awful. Strike one. On another occasion Miss T. had gotten into some of Brad’s dog food, which he would leave at the side of his house in a dish for his two dogs when they were tied in the yard. Strike two.

We’re told to love our neighbours as we love ourselves. But how do we do that? When it came to Miss T. and her shenanigans, we made sure we leashed her and didn’t let her wander indiscriminately around our neighbourhood. We made sure we didn’t do anything to annoy, frustrate, and otherwise anger our neighbour. We avoided actions and behaviour that would not show love of neighbour. But was this really love?

I think if we had decided to show real love of neighbour, we would have given Brad and his family a big bag of dog food—to replace what Miss T. had eaten over time and then some. Rather than just avoiding making our neighbour mad, we should have gone out of our way to make our neighbour glad—is this not a better description of neighbourly love and of love in general?

This applies to our relationships in the church. Loving relationships in the church require not only avoiding actions and attitudes that hurt our brothers and sisters, but doing things that build up and encourage our brothers and sisters. Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:11: “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.” So it’s not only about not doing things we shouldn’t; it’s also about doing those things we should. It’s not only about not letting our dog loose to ransack our neighbour’s garbage; it’s also about dropping off some homemade cookies for no other reason other than they are your neighbour. The threads of love that bind us together are ones that we intentionally take time to knit.

Think of it this way. Would you call a marriage a genuine relationship if all the couple did was to make sure they avoided all the behaviours and actions that annoyed and upset one another? To keep the peace I make sure I put the toilet seat down, squeeze the toothpaste tube from the bottom, and put my dirty clothes in the hamper rather than leave them on the floor. Does making sure I do these things guarantee a healthy marriage? Does this signify a healthy relationship? Or does a healthy relationship also need to include making my wife coffee in the mornings, bringing her the occasional bouquet of flowers, giving her some alone time when she needs it, and going for a walk with her on a beautiful, sunny day?

When God shows us love, he sends his Son. He takes an action. He does something. And when he does this, and we respond, he draws us into a loving relationship with him. It means deliberately asking ourselves: how can I show love to my brothers and sisters in Christ? How can I express this love? How I can give someone else the love I have received from God?

You know, if we ask ourselves these questions and take action, then we will be drawn into relationships with one another. The relationships in a church are about becoming friends with one another. I’m sure we each have friends that, despite how long it’s been since we’ve seen them or how long it’s been since we’ve talked, we can still be honest with them the moment we talk to them again. Friends are those people who accept us without conditions, who are willing to look past our faults, mistakes, and quirks, to see us as we really are.

I remember being at Acadia and for one of my years there I was a volunteer staff worker with IVCF. As a part of my ministry, I met with the staff worker once a week to discuss how things were going. It was a chance to tell him about struggles not only with ministry but even with school or with life. As I shared these feelings, this other person never winced, never judged, and never raised even an eyebrow. Inevitably, I would leave our conversations feeling as though God himself had released me from my fears and insecurities. And as a result my own relationship with God grew and was strengthened. This person was as “Christ” to me. And our relationship was analogous to my relationship with God. It was modelled after that relationship.

These kinds of loving relationships reflect God’s relationship with us—his willingness to look past our sins, to forgive, offer acceptance, to embrace us, and to love without condition. Truly, we can be honest with God. We can lay ourselves bare before him. There is nothing about us that he does not already know; there is nothing we can keep from him. Scripture advises us, in 1 Peter 4:7, “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” We need friendships that have this same quality. Scripture also tells us in Galatians 6:2, “Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

Such loving relationships only happen with time and willingness. It begins with a simple willingness to get to know the others in our midst, however different they may be. It doesn’t mean that we will become good friends with everyone in church, but it does mean that such loving relationships and friendships ought to be a part of our faith experience.

We can trust God not only to save us but also to forgive, to accept, to see us as we are and still show grace to us. Without such a trust in God, we would not have a genuine relationship with him. We would not be living a life of faith. Yet if we believe what the Bible says about God, then we certainly have every reason to trust him. Such trust needs to be a part of our relationships with one another.

Giving the gift of love means extending forgiveness

Trusting other human beings is another matter, however. This brings us to a third point: Giving the gift of love means extending forgiveness. The point of this point is: Loving other people presents us with a challenge since people are not always lovable; in fact, sometimes others, even other fellow Christians, wrong us. This is why we have to learn to extend one another forgiveness. In extending such forgiveness we are modelling our relationships with one another on God’s ultimate act of loving us: forgiving us in Christ.

A Sunday School teacher had just concluded her lesson and wanted to make sure she had made her point. She said, “Can anyone tell me what you must do before you can obtain forgiveness of sin?” There was a short pause and then, from the back of the room, a small boy spoke up. “Sin,” he said.

While we know that God will not betray us, we know that we have a propensity to betray one another. We know that sometimes we don’t have reason to trust one another. We are wary of opening up because of what the other person might do with that information. Will they betray that confidence? Will they turn a confidence into a reason for gossip?

That this is so means we need forgiveness. We need to receive it and we need to extend it. People are not always easy to love, and surely neither are we. No wonder Paul finds himself advising other Christians, “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

Clara Barton, founder of the American Red Cross, was reminded one day of a vicious deed that someone had done to her years before. But she acted as if she had never even heard of the incident. “Don’t you remember it?” her friend asked. “No,” came Barton's reply, “I distinctly remember forgetting it.”

How does this relate to giving the gift of love? The apostle Peter tells us in 1 Peter 4:8, “Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins.” Certainly the love of God in Christ has covered the multitude of our sins; our love, through our willingness to forgive as God has forgiven us, covers the sins of those who wrong us. Loving relationships that model God’s love for us are only possible when we are willing to forgive and be forgiven. And in extending such forgiveness we live out the heart of God’s love for us.

Conclusion—love only lives when you give it away

Many people dismiss church, Christianity, Christians, and even pastors as hypocritical. They look at us and see that we are as prone to sin and failure as anyone else and see this as reason to dismiss what we believe. It justifies their belief that believing in God and being a part of a church community really makes no difference in life. As Danny will often say, “The truth serves their purpose.” But our being to prone to sin and failure is not a sign that we are hypocrites. It only provides evidence that we are sinners. To be sinners is not to be hypocritical. We are only hypocrites if we refuse to handle our sin and failures honestly. We are only hypocrites if we ignore our sin or if we refuse to forgive others as God has forgiven us. We are only hypocrites if we choose to hate rather than love.

And all people, whether they realize it or not, need God’s forgiveness and love. All people need to trust God with their lives. If we are not demonstrating such trust, forgiveness, and love in our relationships with one another, we fail to give others reason to trust God.

We read from 1 Corinthians 13 today where Paul describes beautifully the priority of love: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” While Paul is here talking to Christians who were letting pride over spiritual gifts get out of hand, such a description applies equally to all churches everywhere. It applies to each of us. Imagine if it read this way:

“George is patient, Sandy is kind. Susan does not envy, Danny does not boast, Joyce is not proud. Pat does not dishonour others, Marcia is not self-seeking, Telania is not easily angered, Derek keeps no record of wrongs.”

The bottom line is that it is only when we re-gift the love we have received from God can such love truly be alive in us. And only when we re-gift this love to one another can we expect others to see our relationships and be attracted to the loving God we proclaim. Love, as a gift, is only love when we give it away. The price of real relationships is love, we are the currency, and we are called to spend it all. We do this because God, who is the ultimate Giver, gave infinitely more than we could ever give when he gave us his only-begotten Son.

Preaching Through a Series

Our church is using some resources from Natural Church Development. We recently did a survey which gives us a good indication of relative strengths and weaknesses (or as NCD calls them, minimal and maximum factors). Working through the results of that survey ought to, in principle, enable us to increase the health of our church, and church health is measured through eight categories or what NCD calls the eight quality characteristics. Part of my role in this process is to preach a series based on these characteristics. And I have already begun doing do, though without making a big deal that this is a series. Over the next several weeks I'll work through them all.

Thus far I have prepared three related messages: "God the Giver," "Being Gifts," and "The Gift of Love" (which I preach this Sunday). It was only partway through the process of preparing "Being Gifts" that it occurred to me that this could be the beginning of the NCD series. And as you can see, another theme ties all these messages (so far!) together: that of gifts and giving.

As a pastor, I love when I can carry a theme through several messages or when a group of sermons have something of a symmetry about them. Whether I can do this through all the NCD sermons, I have no idea. It seems unlikely, but I'll probably make some effort at seeing it happen. There will be some topics in the series that simply will not relate to the idea of gifts and giving. Here are the characteristics on which the messages will be based:

1. Gift-oriented ministry (already done: "Being Gifts")
2. Loving Relationships (this week: "The Gift of Love")
3. Holistic Small Groups
4. Passionate Spirituality
5. Inspiring Worship
6. Empowering Leadership
7. Functional Structures
8. Need-oriented Evangelism

So these are the themes. And I don't know how I will approach them all yet. A couple of them I may combine (Empowering Leadership and Functional Structures). And I might, I just might, see if if I can use the gift theme throughout. But I don't want it to be forced. Already I have a couple of ideas for the sermon on holistic small groups, and neither have to do with the gift theme. So there you go. One is "Size Matters." Just a way of pointing out the importance of having a small group and how the number of people we've gathered with affects our ability to be ourselves, be open to prayer, etc. I'm thinking of following up this week's message on loving relationships with this one. Though that title idea may be too tongue-in-cheek. Another possible title is "We Are Not Alone."

I'm nearly done my sermon for this Sunday. I probably could have finished it yesterday, but some circumstances got in the way. I'll be on daddy duty tonight while my wife is out for the evening so it has to be finished either before I bring my daughter home or after she goes to bed. Once that sermon is done, I'll post it here, especially since I've already posted my two previous and related sermons here. Of course, doing this is likely making it possible for someone else to steal my sermons and pass them off as their own. I suppose, however, if they do so it ultimately hurts them and their congregations more than me.

Hey pastors out there--do you typically preach in a series or do you preach stand alone sermons? Do you have a preference? And do you take particular care in titling your messages or in making all your points alliterative? Maybe in doing those last couple of things I am a little crazy.