This Spring, in fact just days, Mitch and will celebrate our 20th anniversary of ordination.  It's hard to believe that its been that long, and yet the days with our first congregation seem so long ago.  This weekend I led a church retreat on evangelism.  I had the opportunity to think about my life and how much I have changed from those early days in ministry.  Today my focus is not so much on building the best programs, the most exciting worship, or the best advertising of the church.  My focus is far more on creating a community of disciples.  The definition of discipleship varies from person to person and community to community.  But as I look back over 20 years serving three congregations as installed co-pastors, I see a lot of parallels.  A common thread of understanding about discipleship is that it is personal.  My discipleship is about what I believe.  For some that is as far as it goes, and they practice their discipleship by trying to be good people, confident that because they believe in Jesus, they are going to heaven.  Others define discipleship with more nuance, it's about faith and service.  These are your volunteers, the people who volunteer time to help people in need in the community.  Still others understand discipleship as all of those things and something more. These Christians understand that discipleship involves living faithfully, and passing that faith on to others by sharing their story.  These people are like diamonds among jewels.  Their light shines a bit brighter, their lives inspire others to want to be like that too.  

Maria is that kind of disciple.  She exudes kindness and joy, she serves others with compassion and tireless dedication, and she has opened herself to allowing God to use her wherever there is a need.  She has more stories of how a common ordinary event became a conversation about what her faith, her church community, and her ministry means to her.  This weekend she shared a new story about how an annual exam became an opportunity to comfort a grieving Dr. and share a wonderful Stephen Ministry book, "Don't Sing Songs to a Heavy Heart" Kenneth C. Haugk.  By sharing contact information, she is planning to continue her care for the caregiving Dr..  When she finished her story, the group said, "We want to be like you."  That's what discipleship looks like!  It is about stories of God at work in our lives in such a way that we can't help but share it with others, not in ways that bang people over the head with doctrine and requirements, but with love and compassion.  

There are so many moments to celebrate as we share our stories of God at work in us, through us, and around us in the world.  I would like to stay in those celebration moments, but there are other stories that need attention.  I imagine that in every congregation there are those who have disagreed with another member, a pastor, or staff member and have reacted by talking to others about it and often passing along hurtful information and sometimes they leave.  We don't like to do the hard work of discipleship, that part that requires us to face one another, forgive each other, and work for reconciliation.  It is an ugly scab on a wound that hurts God's people.  We need to learn to step out of our comfort zone and talk to each other.  I have known only a few people who have intentionally sought to cause harm in a congregation.  Most people, including pastors and staff, are trying to do the best that they can to participate in the body of Christ in the midst of diversity.  It is not always easy and some situations can be painful, sometimes there is not an easy resolution, but holding on to grudges and talking to others without talking to the persons involved is not good discipleship, it is sin.  Sin is one of the things we are to turn away from, not from each other, and yet it is happening and allowed in congregations.  Groups of people may know detailed information about a situation and just accept that it's okay for a person to stop attending worship because of it.  We let people go, sometimes we even listen to their story with a sympathetic ear, but don't talk with them about reconciliation.  What if we asked people, "What are you going to do to be reconciled with that person?"  

Accountability to one another and the community is part of discipleship.  It is not fair or appropriate for people to remain in conflict.  Each person deserves a fair hearing and an opportunity to speak to an accusation made about them.  But facing one who has hurt you or made you angry is not easy, and we like to stay in the easy moments.  What we forget is that the journey to reconciliation may be difficult, but it may also be the path to freedom and release.  That's what forgiveness is all about, freedom and release.  When we confess our sin in worship it is not because God desires to punish us, it is about facing the one we have sinned against, and receiving the freedom and release God desires to give.   Remembering that when we sin against another, we are sinning against God reminds us just how important it is to try to reconcile.  

How do we hold each other accountable?  How will we address the brokenness in our congregations and in our lives?  Discipleship requires that we find the path and trust that God will be cheering us on.  

As I write today, I am propped up in my bed surrounded by pillows.  Pillows to help me sit up and pillows to elevate my leg in the air.   My left leg is wrapped in a soft cast up to the knee securely protecting my heel.   I am recovering from surgery on my achilles tendon.   As I prepared for this surgery I had so many interesting reactions to what I was going to experience.  It seems that people tend to dismiss feet as not terribly important, you could say that people look down on them.  (humor intended) "Oh, well, you'll be back on your feet soon."  (yes, I did that on purpose, too.)  My encounters with others as I prepared for this surgery have set me to thinking about how we deal with people's pain;  how sometimes we stand with people and encourage them and sometimes we kick them to the curb.  Let me set the stage.

I hate having surgery.  I'm not a terribly good patient.  I have things to do, and recovery doesn't fit well into my schedule.  I prefer to be the care giver, not care receiver.  I'm not a rookie when it comes to surgery, so it's not an irrational dislike.  In my lifetime I have had 10 necessary surgeries.  This is the third surgery on my left foot, although this one is far more serious than the other two.  I've had two surgeries related to female reproductive issues; one to remove a cyst on my wrist that destroyed a tendon; back surgery to remove a rupture that put so much pressure on the spinal cord I was slowly leaking spinal fluid, sinus surgery, surgery to remove impacted wisdom teeth and who can forget the very first surgical experience - a tonsillectomy when I was 13.  So when I say I hate having surgery, I know what I am speaking of.  

I don't like anesthesia for starters.  It works REALLY well for me.  While I'm thankful that I'm not awake through a procedure, the waking up is hard for me.  I'll never forget having two nurses standing over my bed in the recovery room shouting my name in my face.   It was terrifying.   I had been sleeping comfortably for more than a couple hours when I should have been waking up at least an hour before.  The nurses were becoming concerned, by the time they were shouting they had been trying to wake me for a while.  I was someplace else.  When I am out, my mind goes to a place that is dark, as in black, and I dream about things that don't make sense and I have to travel a long, dark tunnel like path to come back.  It doesn't help that I did a lot of research on near death experiences once and what I experience sounds a lot like what people describe in their near death experiences.  I am thankful that while this place where my mind goes is very black, I am deeply aware of God's love and care for me.  God is present in that darkness.  But it is a fight to wake up, it is hard to breathe and I feel rather sick when waking up.  Not to mention it tastes bad and makes me feel weak for a day or two. 

Then there are all the drugs involved with recovery; antibiotics, and pain medication.  They don't like me.  I have a list of allergies to antibiotics that make medical professionals cringe.  So for me, it's a matter of choosing one that's not on the list and hoping it works without needing steroid and antihistamine shots.  Even so, I am likely to experience side effects.  That's just the way it is with antibiotics.   And narcotics are a trip, but not in a good way.  I can't imagine why people would choose a drug that makes you light headed, nauseated, break into hot and cold sweats, dream wild dreams, and short of breath.  Pain killers are serious business and should be respected.  I didn't used to have a reaction to Vicodin, but now I do.  So check that off my list.  When my brother asked how I was doing I asked him to imagine what it is like to feel like you are about pass out, with nausea and diarrhea brewing inside, trying to get to the toilet hopping on one foot while trying to get a walker through the narrow doorway. That's how I've been doing.  I believe I have legitimate reasons for hating surgery.

When it comes to talking with people about a surgery, illness or other physical situation there seem to be a predictable variety of responses.  There are those who aren't interested, don't want to listen, and if you're lucky will politely offer to pray for you as they walk out the door.  There are those who are are sympathetic and listen with compassion even if they don't understand exactly what you're going through and offer support. They are God's blessing. Another blessing is the person who has had a similar experience and can offer understanding and support without assuming their experience was exactly the same.   Then there are those who assume that because they have had a similar surgery, their experience is exactly like yours.  "Oh, I had that done.  It was a piece of cake.  You'll be just fine."  or "I'm so sorry, when I had that done it was awful."  or "I know just what you're going through."  My least favorite is the "mine is worse than yours" person.  They are the person who says, "Well, you could be having (insert whatever surgery they've had), or "Wait until your my age and have to have surgery", or "It could be worse, it could be life threatening." These responses negate the experience of the one facing surgery and make them feel foolish for being afraid, or dreading the experience. They should just not speak.  

As someone who offers pastoral care to others, I realize how important it is to respond to people in helpful ways.  It is not helpful to assume that you know exactly what someone is experiencing because you don't. Everyone's experience is different.  It is not helpful to offer empty encouragement.  For example, I knew going into this surgery that my recovery will take about 6 months.  I also knew that I will have to be off my feet, with foot iced and elevated for at least 2 weeks and perhaps a month or more.  Why? Because this surgery involved completely detaching the tendon from the bone, removing damage and reattaching the tendon.  This kind of healing takes time, there's no sense praying for a speedy recovery.  What I need are prayers for patience and strength to allow myself time to heal properly.  It also helps to know people who have gone through the surgery and are doing well.  It helps to know others have gone through this and are better for it.  "My brother had that surgery and is so glad he did."  Finally, it doesn't feel better to be told it could be worse.  Of course it could, I could be fighting a terminal illness.  In my experience the surgery that actually removed life threatening tissue was the easiest recovery of all; thankfully, no follow up treatment was necessary.  The fact remains that what I am experiencing now is still painful, and a long process, knowing it could be worse doesn't erase my reality.

Surgery is never fun.  It always comes with risks.  Death is surely a higher risk for someone having open heart surgery, but I also knew a man who died on the table while having what was supposed to be a routine hip replacement.  The possibility of unforeseen complications and side effects always exists.  Recovery is often painful and long. No one likes it, but everyone appreciates the person who offers a kind word of support.  "I'm sorry you have to go through this, I will pray that it goes well for you.  I will pray that you will know God's love and support through this journey.  If you need a friend to talk to, just call." Healing needs people like my pillows, surrounding the wounded one with support, comfort, and being there to walk the journey, a journey that will not be like anyone else's, and in this case, a journey that isn't going to be easy - even if it is only a foot.  

Being a friend means giving unconditional love.  That means showing the same love and care for others whatever their circumstance in life.  I can love the person about to have open heart surgery as much as the person having a wisdom tooth removed.  Unconditional love asks, "What can I do for you during this recovery? What would you like me to pray for?  How can I support and comfort you? How can I be a blessing to you?"  Words have so much power, I hope my words will help you become someone's blessing on their journey.  

As I wrote this today I was thinking and praying for a dear friend who was undergoing surgery today, the family who lost a husband and father due to a stroke this week, the couple who struggle from one physical challenge and surgery to another; those who are struggling through long term illnesses for which there is no cure; and all who are in pain.  Right now, all I can share are words of comfort and words of prayer.  May my words be a blessing.  


Sue

An important practice for a pastor is to reflect on one's ministry and to consider strengths and weaknesses. A great Personnel committee will encourage and assist a pastor to do this annually.  One of the areas that I have wanted to work on over the years has been my preaching.  I've come a long way from those first years in ministry.  In my opinion, the proclamation of the Word is one of the most important responsibilities I have.  I have been entrusted by the Presbyterian Church (USA) to bring scripture to life and to teach and inspire people.  For me it is more than interpreting text and bringing a message, I am there to help people encounter God in their midst.  I am not God, I'm just the messenger, but I believe that God can use me to reach people, and that is a profound responsibility.  

The gravity of that responsibility held me back for a long time. Exegesis and construction of the sermon were (and are) vitally important; so much so that I could not preach without my manuscript in front of me.  I could not, or rather would not.  Now that may not be a problem for some people, but for me it felt like a stumbling block.  I continued to feel like I wasn't living up to my potential, and probably wasn't inspiring people like I should.  I lived in that place for quite a while and it needled at me.  

I realized that it needled at me because I have some skills to bring to the table that I wasn't bringing.  My undergraduate degree was in speech and theater.  I spent four years developing public speaking skills.  I participated in speech competitions and performed on stage.  I practiced, practiced, practiced.  By the time I finished college I was equipped to present a speech without a manuscript, without note cards, without anything but the information I'd logged into my brain.  So why couldn't I do that in my preaching?  Fear.  Fear of the responsibility I carry.  Fear that I would drop the ball, fall on my face, wander in the wilderness, and offer nothing but random thoughts.  I felt the weight of the responsibility so greatly that I made the presentation of God's word all about me.

Then we began an evening worship service.  This was going to be a very different service.  The concept was not a praise service, not a Taize style service; something different.  For lack of a better term we call it our "casual service".  In this service all we bring for liturgy is the same sheet of paper with an outline of the elements of the service.  The prayers are spontaneous and the content is driven by those who attend.  Every hymn is chosen by the congregation.  We come in shorts and jeans and stay for a potluck supper afterward. Preaching from a manuscript wasn't going to fly here.  In fact, people were hoping it could be a conversational style, with the congregation responding and asking questions during the message.  7 years later it has become the favorite service of those who attend.  Early on, one of the members of that service, and also an inquirer for ministry, encouraged me to give up the manuscripts and just talk to the people.  It wasn't like I didn't have an idea what to talk about, I had a sermon prepared for the morning service, just talk about it. And so I did.  It began with planting a seed, asking questions and responding to them, but I always knew exactly what I was going to say in the beginning and the end.  Gradually I stopped worrying so much about a structure and just went with the flow.  Then something happened.  I quit making it about me, and trusted God.  Instead of creating a mental outline, I prayed that God would give me the words.  I let go - and let God as the phrase goes.  It has been an experience that isn't just about preaching, but about truly falling into the hands of God and knowing that God will catch me.  

Inspiration doesn't always come with the same burst of energy.  I still write a manuscript for many Sunday morning sermons.  Sometimes I will prepare a sermon that doesn't feel right.  Something about it doesn't feel comfortable.  It's hard to say exactly what isn't right.  Other times after all the preparation, an idea will come into my head that feels like the direction I need to go.  This last week was one of those weeks.  A seed of an idea had been in my head but I couldn't quite get it together.  I was prepared to go with my manuscript even though it was gnawing at me.  It was Pentecost Sunday and as our youth and adults were presenting a dramatic reading of the story I listened to how Peter was inspired to preach.  No manuscript, no note cards, just the power of the Holy Spirit.  I set the manuscript aside and proclaimed a message about the power of the Holy Spirit that is present in each one of us if we open ourselves to receive it.  If you asked me exactly what I said, I couldn't tell you.  It's an experience in which I am totally in the moment, the words just come, and when I'm finished I wonder how that happened.  It's not about me; it's about God.

The response to my sermon has been a wonderful blessing because people were inspired.  Some have said they really felt the power of the Holy Spirit in worship on Sunday.  Others said that worship has become fun for them and they look forward to what we're going to do next.  And one said that when I go "off book" I am so energized that it energizes the congregation.  He said that he feels more connected and really hears what I am saying.  God speaks, when I am listening. 

The lesson in this is not that I have become some great extemporaneous preacher.  There are plenty out there that are far more gifted than I.  But my journey is a lesson about faith, about getting out of the way to let God work through you.  We all struggle with that.  Each one of us has been given a gift that can serve the common good of all.  God invites us to use those gifts but too often we hold it so tightly that we squeeze the life out of it or we control it so carefully that the creative Spirit can't fully speak through us.  People second guess themselves.  I've known people who have powerful stories of faith to share who can't share them in worship because of their fear of speaking in public.  Others at the other end of the spectrum are afraid to share their story with just one person.  Some refuse to believe God has given them a gift, or that God needs them to use it.  We become stumbling blocks for ourselves.  

There is powerful energy that comes from trusting God to give you what you need to do the work you've been called to do.  I still struggle with sermon content.  I am diligent about exegetical work that supports the message.  But today I know that if I do my part, God will take me by the hand and use me in ways I could never have expected.  God desires to do that for all of us.  Jesus promised to send an advocate for us, the creative Spirit of comfort, power, presence.  The Holy Spirit is far more powerful than we allow ourselves to believe.  If we learn to get out of the way and open ourselves to the leading of the Spirit, God can and will use us to teach, inspire, and transform.  Let go....

Today I've started a list of things I never want to do again.  Sure, there's always that list of things I've said before.  I don't want to ride the Millennium Force at Cedar Point Amusement Park again; I don't want to eat liver and onions or vegetable soup with parsnips again.  But this new list is one with more substance.  My first entry: I don't want to close a church again.  

Closing a church is deeply emotional for everyone involved.  For members it is the end of their church family. It is nearly as difficult as losing a dear friend; because it is losing a dear friend in many ways.  For pastors it is the end of a ministry that you enter with hope.   When Mitch and I began ministry with our small congregation we all hoped there might be something we could do to stop the decline and perhaps restore the congregation.  It was a group of loving, caring people with a deep love of God and a heart for mission; but the congregation was quite small and resources were very limited.  There were other challenges, but in the end, the church ran out of options and was forced to close.  It got me to thinking about the history of this church and so many others and I began making a list of "If only" statements.

If only the congregation had the foresight to make a few different financial choices.  If only they had chosen to move when they had the chance.  If only there hadn't been such conflict.  If only they had had more support when they sought to merge with another congregation.  If only they had worked harder to agree on a plan for the future.  If only, if only...

What I've learned is that the life of a congregation is not fixed for all time.  Congregations die.  Critics will look at our little church and see it as a failure.  They may make their own list of "if only" comments.  There may be truth in them, but that is not certain.  It may be that this congregation has lived it's life and done all it could to be faithful disciples.  But it may also be true that choices matter and the actions of a congregation today will affect the future,

There are some key things that I wish every church would consider.  This will be my prayer.  It is my own kind of "if only" list for all congregations.  

1.  Don't lose sight of why the church exists.  It is so easy to get sucked into the "family" of a congregation and focus on friendships and relationships as the most important part of being a church member.  Others will look for programs, activities, and events as their priority for the church. Both of these attitudes lead to a consumer Christian attitude. A consumer Christian looks at the church for what it can do for me.  Will I like the preaching, the Sunday school, the music program?  Is there a youth group for my children?  In other words, the church is here to serve me. But that is not what the church is about. The church exists to be the body of Christ.  A Christian is a "little Christ" and is called to live and serve as Jesus did. The church exists to equip disciples and send them out in service.  I can understand that there may be a variety of reasons for choosing a congregation, but none of them should be limited to "what's in it for me?"  We should measure whether a church is right by asking, "Is this a place where I can grow and serve God?"

2. Remember that the church doesn't belong to you. This is just a step away from No. 1 and hard for most of us in the church.  We all speak about "my" church. It is true that the church is deeply personal for many of us because our faith is deeply personal. Too often this leads members, pastors and staff to want to control the church. We like to think we know what is best. But the church doesn't belong to any of us, it is entrusted to all of us for this time and place.  The church belongs to God in Christ.  Remembering that we have been entrusted with this gift for a moment in time really helps keep a healthy perspective.  It helps us remember that not one of us is more important than another and that the decisions we make need to be made collectively.  When we pause to pray and discern God's leading together we will make more faithful decisions.  God will speak when we quiet ourselves and our desires to listen for God's. 

3. We are in this together. This is closely connected to No. 2, but in this case I am referring more to behavior and dealing with conflict. We all like our ego stroked and many of us want to be given leadership and power in the church. But my ego is going to disagree with your ego from time to time. One of the most detrimental problems in the Church is the way we handle our egos.  Conflict is destructive and eats away at congregations until they die. We all need to abide by Jesus' teachings in Matthew 18:15-17. Holding a grudge and gossiping about it to church friends undermine's God's work in the community. Witholding your tithe to God as a protest hurts Christ's church. Our behavior matters and ignoring the teaching of Jesus while we perpetuate conflict is not only unfaithful discipleship, it will lead to a withered branch that God must prune from the vine. Building a strong community is a far better use of our energy.  Taking the time to talk to someone who has hurt us can bring restoration. Offering forgiveness will bring healing and will bear witness to God's unconditional love and forgiveness.

4. Remember that discipleship must be nurtured.  A seed cannot grow and flourish in soil that hasn't been tilled and fed.  An artist must practice to hone their gifts.  Being a Christian is a lifelong journey, not a free ticket to heaven. Jesus modeled a faithful life for us.  His routine included worshiping with his faith community, going off to a private place to be alone with God, teaching those who would listen, taking care of the poor, hungry, blind, lame,and oppressed.  A growing faith includes an ebb and flow among all of these. All of these things matter.  Claiming to be a Christian without worshiping and studying with a faith community is like cutting a leg from a three legged stool.  The same is true for personal prayer and service. A plant may grow and even bear some fruit without support, but a plant that is buttressed by a trellis and tended by the gardener can reach it's full potential.  One of the greatest rewards from nurturing your faith is a deep sense of fulfillment and a deeper connection with God.  That's a promise.

There are congregations that thrive and grow.  Some will grow quickly and wither over time; but the ones that survive over time are those that understand that they exist to make and send out disciples, that the church belongs to God and is to follow Christ's leading, deal with differences in healthy ways, and remember that discipleship must be tended just as a gardener tends their garden.  Popular culture in the church has taught us that we need contemporary music, lots of technology, flashy programs, and a lot of publicity in order to bring people into our congregations.  Statistics and research has shown us that churches that become self-focused become broken, breed conflict and die.  If only we could remember why we exist and the mission Jesus gave us, we might find ourselves transformed and bearing fruit.  If only....

I've become known in the PCUSA because of our work at First Presbyterian, Rockaway, NJ.   It feels very wierd!  I was recently interviewed for  the Presbyterians Today magazine about our journey.  The New Beginnings assessment and the subsequent work of our congregation have brought renewed energy and life.  It's been hard at times, some have not liked the direction we're going, others have come to join us because of it.  Seeing the results of much hard work has really influenced my opinion of the state of the Church in the PCUSA.  

I recently wrote this post on my Facebook page:  "Each day I read articles and posts about the decline of the church. I read the statistical information about what different ages want, cultural influence, relevance of message, and issues that are killing the church. These are definitely valuable and I read them regularly. They have certainly influenced my leadership. But I feel in my soul that there is more to the story. What I see is that often congregations are not getting real about their individual calling as a community. Unless a congregation does the work of talking about what it truly means to be a disciple, and then seeks to do the work, everything else will bring the church down. There is nothing more destructive than gossip, power plays, fiefdoms, and a social club mentality in a congregation. Our behavior in our communities does more to push people away than some of the issues regularly named. 


I'm very proud of the Rockaway congregation for taking the risk to have tough conversations about the effect of past conflict and unhealthy dynamics. In the course of those conversations they also recognized how much they needed and wanted to grow in their own faith before they could share faith with others. These deep conversations created energy and after walking through the valley, led us to a hopeful place. Today our adult education program is at least 3 times what it was. As more adults are having fun and building new and deeper relationships, more parents of children are coming to church. Our children/youth Sunday school attendance went from barely 20 on a Sunday to having as many as 50 this season. We had a class of 14 new members last year and are preparing for another new class now. I'm not convinced anymore that people won't come to church. 


People are often seeking a spiritual community, but they need to be able to trust the community and they want a place that is positive and effective. They will come if they find a community that is growing in their faith, sharing their faith with others, serving those in need - and in general, digging in and doing the hard work that Christ calls us to. Have we overcome all of the obstacles? By no means! But things are getting so much better. Recently a new family came to us and has become quite active in a short time. On Sunday a member of the family came to me after worship and said, "I love, love, love this church. It is actually FUN to come here for church and bible study." This church's experience may be unique, but I'm not certain of that. It seems to me that there is some biblical precedent that if one bears fruit, it will be visible, and rewarded. It seems to me that the Church slipped off the path. Getting on the path won't be easy and it may create a Church that doesn't look like it did in the past, but that's not our mission is it?"

Responses showed that this post resonated with people.  The article in Presbyterians Today did too and since then I've been receiving emails from pastors thanking me for giving them hope.  A couple thanked me for helping them to finally decide to take a chance on the New Beginnings process.  Today I spent about 30 minutes on the phone with a pastor whose congregation is considering New Beginnings.  There is one thing that I am consistently hearing - our church have become too inward focused and lazy about evangelism.  I've also heard that conflict either on the PCUSA or local level has caused people to leave congregations.  And we wonder why there is decline?  We wonder why people don't want to join us?

I'm finding more and more support for my Facebook post position.  Yesterday I was discussing this in a Bible Study at First, Rockaway.  The group includes three of our small group leaders who are using the Engage resources.  We were talking about how we are still peeling off the layers of preconceived ideas about what the Church is supposed to be, what evangelism is, and what they believe.  We are still growing in understanding.  One of the members said, "What we've learned is that we have to peel our own onion before we can get to the heart of what it means to be a disciple."    That's it!  Unless you peel the onion, you won't address unhealthy patterns of behavior that not only kill congregations, but pastors and members.  Unless you peel the onion, you won't look at your own spirituality and whether growing your faith is a priority in your life.  Unless you peel the onion, you won't open your eyes to see opportunities to reach out in service and love to people.  Unless you peel the onion, you won't be able to be the person God wants you to be.

I'm becoming even more convinced that the Church can still be a viable ministry, we just have become too complacent.  Our society has influenced it, our behavior has made it a reality.  We have made ourselves, the traditions we like, our personal desires, and our misguided understandings the priority in our communities.  We have decided it's okay to pick and choose which of Jesus' teachings and examples we should follow.  We've boiled Christianity down to nothing more than something I can say I believe in, but not something that demands my life.  We need to peel the onion.  Some say we need a Reformation. Others say it's transformation.  Still others say to not waist your time, the Church is dead.  I say that the only thing that is dead is us.  We have met the enemy, and the enemy is us. God is seeking to use us, but we are seeking our own desires.  God is trying to touch our souls, but we don't take the time to nurture them.  God is working in our communities, but we have refused to meet God there.  In many ways the Church smells like an onion gone bad, wrapped in a skin that refuses to allow it to breathe, rotten and unused.

Will the Church survive?  I have no idea, but I'm beginning to believe that if a community of faith truly wants to be faithful and is willing to do the hard, honest work of peeling back the layers of conflict, misunderstanding, laziness, and selfishness - the church might stand a chance.   Once you get to the heart of the onion, you can begin to dream about the future and become open to the dream God has for you.

Last Sunday the lectionary passage was the parable of the ten bridesmaids.  Five of them were busy tending their lamps, always ready for the return of the bridegroom.  Tending their lamps would have meant keeping a long enough wick ready, trimming it when excess was causing too much smoke, and having enough oil ready to refill the lamp.  If we are willing to tend to our personal faith: practicing Spiritual disciplines, participating in the congregation, attending worship, our lamps will be ready.  And what purpose is a lamp if it is not lit and shedding light?  We haven't been willing to share our light, we've kept the light under a bushel - "I can't talk about my faith, it's personal."  But it's not!  Your faith story is God's tool for reaching others.  The story of a man with cancer who found strength through prayer can touch the life of another man with cancer.  The story of a woman finding God through the support of her faith community can help another find the same.  

There is hope for the church.  There is hope for all people, if we remember the covenant relationship God has made with us.  A covenant works two ways.  We can expect God to do great things for us, AND God can expect us to do the things he/she has asked for.  Christ invited us, who call ourselves Christians, to follow his lead and do as he did.  It is far more than planting ourselves in a pew once a week, it is living a life that is open to being used in God's service.  The real question is whether we are willing to do the work. Are we willing to peel our own onions?

Why are you doing this?  Who are you doing it for?  Two questions asked of a group of people this evening as we begin training to become an evangelism coach for the PCUSA.  These two questions are anchors for us as we navigate our way through ministry.  They are especially important questions for those who lead as they grow a new ministry or facilitate a turn around in an exiting ministry, because these are moments that require so much time and energy.  Reflecting on these questions can keep you grounded and focused.  They are questions that I have been wrestling with as I have tried to discern my role in leading two congregations through a process of change.  It is not easy to lead when you don't have all the answers and yet that is exactly the place I have been.  What I've been learning is that you don't have to have the answers as long as you know the one who does.  

For the last two years I have walked in the midst of uncertainty about where I was leading my congregations. I have wanted a manual handed to me; a how to guide with all the answers, but there is no one size fits all manual for God's work.  Each community is unique, each path going in different directions.  It has been an opportunity for me to recognize my own limitations and trust more in God's presence.  I am constantly reminding myself to listen to God's voice.  My "process" has been to take the congregation down the path with me, asking the questions, "Why are we doing this and who are we doing it for?"  I have not been certain about my leadership, but I have pushed myself to keep growing and seeking and sharing. This evening I realized that perhaps the result has been that I am exactly where God wants me to be, doing what God wants me to do.  I will not measure "success" by the standards of the past or of the world, but will look for those areas that are bearing fruit.  For where there is fruit, you will find branches connected to the vine.  

Tonight I have been blown away and tremendously affirmed.  I am one of eight who have been invited to attend the training.  This evening it was explained to us that we were not here because we chose to be, but because we had been chosen by the PCUSA.  We were selected because we had been noticed for our work in our congregations and/or Presbyteries.  We had demonstrated that we "get it".  We understand what it means to be a coach.  I admit that I have always hoped for an opportunity like this.  Several years ago I attended the Evangelism conference for the Presbytery and felt drawn to this ministry.  I have felt that my skills and experience have helped prepare me for the kind of work the Office of Evangelism has been advocating, but I hadn't imagined that people were watching - especially at the GA level.  It turns out they were.   I am humbled, honored, and excited for such an opportunity.  I am grateful for the opportunities that have come through my congregations and the Presbytery.  I am grateful that God has given me these opportunities.

I feel myself catch my breath as I realize that part of what I'm doing here is more than receiving training.  I am also "auditioning".  It is not a guarantee that I will be a coach for the PCUSA.  My participation in this training will be evaluated for the abilities needed to coach.  But as I prepare to sleep, I turn my thoughts to the questions with which I began.  "Why am I doing this and who am I doing it for?"  The reason is pretty simple - I want to because my desire is to walk the journey of faith with those who are seeking God and to be an example of God's love for those who are hurting in the world.  I want to because God has changed me and continues to change me in ways that make my life rich and rewarding. God's power is very real to me. And who am I doing this for?  The simple answer is God and God's people, but I must be always mindful that the honest answer is more than that, but also because I want to be successful in ministry.  There is some ego in that.  But tonight it's not my ego that is speaking.  I find myself brought to my knees in gratitude for the opportunity and prayerful that if this is where God is calling me, I will go always mindful that it isn't about me.  I don't have to have all the answers, but need to trust the one who does. Is it I, Lord?

      This morning I logged into my Facebook page and the image on the left was the first that I saw.  It was posted by someone who is a friend, colleague, and shares my passion for the marginalized in our society. My first reaction to the image was to feel sympathy for the homeless, I really do care about their well being. I felt frustration with our government that has cut funding that provides more than food, but also shelters and assistance that helps get people back on their feet. I felt anger at corporate America that has allowed executive greed and excess to step on the backs of their employees leaving them broken, homeless, and desperate. I felt frustrated with Christians who do not give the financial support to their churches they could because of politics and power plays. The culpability of homelessness is a wide net.  

This winter has been brutally cold!  Subzero temperatures make it unconscionable to think of people sleeping outdoors. It is hard to keep warm in our home, let alone out on the street. It was under these conditions that we were approached by two young ladies who came asking for help. They have been homeless for over a year.  We have helped them a few times with rides, with a motel room, and some food. Their story pulled at our social justice heart strings. They were a lesbian couple who had been ostracized from their families because of their gender identity, at least that is part of the story.  We contacted the regional homeless shelter. No room.  In fact there is a waiting list and it could be months before space becomes available.  Some churches in the area, like ours, have been helping to pay for hotel costs.  About the cheapest you can get is $80 a night. These girls needed a couple weeks before they were going to be able to get some assistance and a new place to go. Our discretionary fund couldn't cover that cost. So we made a choice to take them into our home. We didn't do it blindly. We called the police department to see if there were any known issues with these girls. We were told no. They came with their one bag of possessions and their platitudes of gratitude. We gave them their own room, their own bathroom, all the food they wanted and welcomed them into our lives.

Saturday we became suspicious that our house guests were taking advantage of us. Mitch's tablet that he uses for preaching was missing, my Nook was gone, a ring was missing. I had been away most of the week and upon return discovered that my jewelry box and dressers had been rifled through, my laptop had been stuffed back into its bag and haphazardly put back on the shelf. We were prepared to give them one last night at the house until the family gathered in the living room to watch the Super Bowl only to discover that our Ps3 was gone. Games that had been Christmas presents for our son - gone.   When we confronted them they denied it, of course. They craftily tried to claim that our yippee dog had barked for about 45 minutes during the morning while we were at church. "Someone must have come in while they hid in the guest room." Things had already been missing, their story was lame.  

We had set ground rules with them when they moved in. If anything went wrong, anything went missing, we would call the police. We kept our promise. The police were at our door within minutes and proceeded to extract a confession that broke our hearts. They had taken everything and sold it to feed a drug addiction. In fact, the police had been looking for them. They had a history of prior arrests for theft and drug possession. We had been totally, dreadfully betrayed. When the girls had learned that my ring was not valuable they had thrown it in the trash at a convenience store rather than bringing it back when they returned to sleep at our house that night. The lies, the tears, the attempts at apologies, the begging us not to press charges. It was heart wrenching.  

We did file charges because we believe that accountability is important. We did because we knew we would help the police with their ongoing investigation.  We did because we knew that as painful as it would be to go to jail, they would be warm and they will get the help they need with their addiction. We did because we did not want them coming back to our house. We did, perhaps above all, because we were angry.  

Today I am feeling that the greatest harm done was not the loss of possessions, we can replace those - except for the ring whose value was sentimental, a symbol of our family story. The greater harm was to my soul, my sense of conviction, the voice within me that wants to stand up for the least who are so often misjudged, condemned and kicked to the curb. The greater harm is that this is not the first time we have been through this. In a different time and place we welcomed a young autistic man whose parents had kicked him out, unaware of his autism and unwilling to help him. We connected him with help, we gave him a place to live, he worked with us at our church food kitchen, and he helped himself to smaller, far less valuable items in the house. 

Just yesterday I preached the words of Micah, "What does the Lord require of you?  To seek justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with your God." I preached these words alongside the beatitudes and spoke of the importance of living as Jesus spoke; not to receive blessings, but to be a blessing.  I also spoke about the challenges of living this, it is not always easy. I even spoke about reaching out and caring for the homeless asking, "Would we take them into our homes?"  I admitted that I was uncomfortable with our guests, that it was testing me deeply.  In hind sight, my intuition was wiser than my actions.  Today I am questioning what I just preached.  Today I laughingly quipped, "If someone takes your XBox, give them your Ps3!"  I am questioning my conviction asking myself, "Self, what must you do to regain your conviction?"  I'm not ready to answer that question just yet, because I know in the end it is likely that God will ask me to make people, not possessions, my priority. Today I am asking a different question. How do we arouse the conscience of those who contribute to the problem of homelessness?  How do we speak against the economic disparity that leaves some painfully poor?  How do we speak to our congregations, to people in the pews whose giving is determined not by their faith but by their satisfaction with the performance of the leadership?  How do we change our society so that people are no longer ostracized and condemned because of their sexuality, race, gender, political views, and on, and on, and on?  

In many ways I do not blame the girls for what they have become. I blame those who rejected them because they were lesbian.  I blame the government for cutting aid that is making it harder for the homeless to find a place to live and a job to provide for themselves.  I blame those who take advantage of the weak and lead them to drugs and theft and other corruption.  I blame myself for not doing enough to stand up to broken institutions.  All of these helped to steal the dreams of two young women who wanted to be good, and kind. One of the girls cried out through tears, "This is not me, I am not like this, I am a good person. I need help." Mitch responded to her cry, "If only you had told us, we could have done much to get you the help you need."  Which leads me to the reality that while all of these factors contributed to where they are today, these girls also made choices.  They did not take responsibility for their situation in legal and beneficial ways; and with responsibility comes accountability.  It all comes full circle, doesn't it?  We all have responsibility to care for ourselves and each other, respect each other, and work together for the common good.  These two young ladies are a reminder to all of us of what happens when we do not live up to our responsibilities as a society, as communities of faith, and as individuals.  So while I am angry and disappointed, I feel a level of sympathy and compassion for them and pray that they get themselves together and on their feet.  

Tonight in our region about 40 people are homeless tonight. Snow has buried us and the cold is bitter. What can I do for them? Tonight, I just don't know.  

       In two weeks I will be heading to West LaFayette, IN for the Presbyterian Youth Triennium where I will be serving as a small group leader.   Triennium is an amazing experience.  More than 5,000 youth and adults from all over the country and a global delegation gather for a week of high energy learning and fun.  This is my fifth Triennium, which has me feeling older by the minute, but still very excited.  Triennium is part of my ministry journey.  It was at Triennium where a dear friend and minister served with me as our Presbytery's advisors.  One evening after much conversation she said to me, "Part of the discernment process of recognizing a call to ordained ministry is an outward call, an affirmation from people around you who sense that God is calling you to ordained ministry.  I am your outward call."   It was a moment that changed my life.  At the closing worship of that Triennium  I tearfully sang the hymn, "Hear I Am, Lord".  It was more than a hymn that day, but my prayerful response to God's call.   "Here I am, Lord,  I will hold your people in my heart."   At a later Triennium I was in a time of personal turmoil and searching.  I was wrestling with whether it was time to stay or time to go from the church I was serving at the time.  In the midst of the chaos, and managing a group of youth, I found a place of inner calm and a clear sense that God was telling me to stay.   Triennium has been a place where  God speaks in powerful ways.  
     The theme of this year's event is "I Am" and will explore the passages of the Old and New Testament in which God speaks, "I am who I am" and where Jesus says, "I am the vine, the bread of life and the good shepherd".   Throughout the week we will reflect on the identity of God and our own identity as God's children.   We will reflect on the questions, "Who is God?" and "Who am I?"   These are questions I have been wrestling with all my life, it's become clear to me they are part of the journey.  I love the mental gymnastics of exploring the breadth of God.  Growing in understanding is exciting and enriching.  I find the questions about my own identity harder to wrestle with.   Who am I?  What is God calling me to be and do today?  
     When I began working in the church as an educator I believed I was responding to a call to educational ministry.  After 7 or 8 years of in this career I felt a strong sense that God was calling me to do more in the Church.  I felt a passionate sense of vision for the Church; something more than a compartmentalized institution but a place where worship, education, mission, pastoral care and service are inextricably interwoven in a way that lives are changed; the world is changed.  I have been working toward that vision for 17 years.    Ministry has given me moments of profound blessing and the gift of walking with brothers and sisters on their spiritual journeys.   Through all these years I have felt confident of one thing, God has called me to this ministry.  This is my journey.  Yet through all these years of ministry there has been an inner tugging, a pull to keep growing and becoming more.  Who am I and who is God calling me to be?  
      As I prepare to lead a group of youth at Triennium to think about who God is, and who God is calling them to be, I recognize that these are questions for a lifetime, not just one week.  I will board the plane to Indiana filled with excitement about working with a group of youth.  It will be a joy and honor to take a step on the journey of faith with them.  But I also go expecting God to speak to me through the voices of those I will meet.   Something is churning in my soul,  an inner pull to do something more.  The same kind of lure that pulled me toward ordination is pulling me still.  Is it to write?  I want to, but I haven't quite figured out what to write about.  Is it to find a more active role in social justice ministry?  Sometimes I think so.  I often long to be more actively hands on in fighting for justice and helping the poor.  Perhaps, for the moment, it is to go and encourage a group of youth to explore God and who God is asking them to be.   Maybe the best gift I can share will be to help them see that the journey of faith is not a puzzle you can solve once and for all.  It is journey; a relationship with God, the "I Am,"  who calls us to respond in new ways to new opportunities.   Who am I?  A servant of God, listening for God's voice, seeking to understand where I am being called next.   My prayer is that Triennium will once again be a place of clarity and inspiration for me and the other 5,000+ seekers.   It always has been, I expect it will be again.