I deleted more emails this morning. As a Non-profit leader, my inbox fills with offers to help ‘increase end-of-year giving.’ I generally believe good and helpful organizations send these. But, several years ago, I believe I heard God calling me to a different path…I was to serve Him, my family, Renovation Community, and this community (especially the poorest) as faithfully as I knew how. And I was to share where I witness God working. That was all. No fundraising, grant-writing, or donor appeals. God might call others to such work, but that would not be my calling. Often, it seems God has called me to a ministry of “Little Things.” I spent hours today trimming bushes and then hanging Christmas lights. Our Parsonage is the only single-family house on the street, occupied by the only white family on the street. A “renter’s mentality” can easily set in on such a street. Why take care of a place your landlord doesn’t take care of? Why hang Christmas lights if you won’t be here long?
Lights on the Parsonage become an opportunity to minister in “little things.” I wave to every passing car. I talk with the neighbor across the street and two kids who pass on bicycles. I smile at the same familiar faces I’ve invited many times to worship services. How must I look to my neighbors as I smile and wave? A little strange? Nerdy? I think of Dr. King’s “Dream” and carry on. I’m ministering through little waves and smiles…striving for a different reality on my own street. I may be strange and nerdy, but at least they’ll know I’m kind and know I would gladly worship in the same room as them. I’ll never win Church Growth awards with my strategies. But I keep smiling, waving, inviting, and showing neighbors I love my street. One of my homeless friends passes. We chat about 15 minutes before he continues on his way. I invite him, again, too.
December comes tomorrow. My inbox calls me to ‘maximize year-end giving.’ “Church X increased its December donations by X% with our proven strategies!” But Jesus calls me to maximize my time listening to Him. On my knees at our bushes, Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place audiobook plays in my ears. God miraculously kept a contraband Liquid Vitamin bottle flowing with life-saving drops in a Nazi concentration camp as Corrie and her sister shared God’s love with hurting people. He can handle December, and our finances, much better than me.
Two surprise checks arrived in the mail today from dear family friends. $500 for my family. $1200 for our church.
It’s been almost 14 years since chronic pain and fatigue started slowly creeping into my body.
That pain accumulates exponentially each weekday of Renovation Community’s 9-week summer day camp and feeding program. The constant movement in a hot gym on a concrete floor can be tough. I’ve learned to hide it, smile, give my full attention to someone, and compartmentalize my pain. Last night, my pain was about an 8 on a 10-point scale. But no one would have known that.
One of our summer ministry interns comes from a wonderful church known for powerful Corporate Prayer. That church has taught her well. On the rare occasions when I’ve mentioned my physical ailments, she immediately lays hands on me to pray for my healing. She’s one more of hundreds of people who have prayed for my healing over the years. Yet this morning’s struggles remind me He’s yet to grant the prayer so many people and I have prayed.
Every step this morning sends surging pain. Have you ever seen someone jogging with those ankle weights or a weighted vest? It feels like I’m wearing a full-body weighted suit– every movement is difficult. I’m rationing my body’s energy; I just learned I may spend some of my Saturday helping to re-house a homeless family.
Praise God for the capable ministry interns and visiting pastors currently running our camp! Instead of fighting through illness on this Friday in our hot gym next door, I’m sitting in our Parsonage, preparing Sunday’s sermon. This Sunday I preach on Acts 4:1-31, where Peter and John get in trouble with Temple authorities because they healed a man who had been lame “since birth.”
40 years…
In my studies, another pastor preaching on this same passage mentioned this powerful fact…
Acts 4:22 says the healed man was “over 40 years old.” Acts 3:2 records this lame man was carried to “the temple gate called Beautiful where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts.” [Sadly, people with physical deformities/disabilities like such as this man weren’t allowed to participate in Temple worship. So his friends/family weren’t allowed to take him closer to the actual Temple. This gate into the Temple Complex was, religiously speaking, “locked.” But that’s a post for another time.] This means that same lame man was probably begging at that same Temple gate when Jesus walked in and out of the Temple during his earthly ministry. But Jesus hadn’t healed him.
Had this man heard about Jesus of Nazareth, as other physically disabled beggars had? Did he ever try to position himself closer to Jesus, to increase the likelihood of a close encounter? How many times did he pray God would heal him? Why would God allow anyone to be lame for 40 years? Why didn’t Jesus heal this man while still on earth? Why keep the man invalid until Peter and John pass by him?
Waiting at a Gate
Perhaps you, too, have waited many years at your own “Beautiful Gate.” Perhaps you’re like me, and I’m a lot like our 2-year-old…I don’t like to wait for God to grant my requests. I feel sick and I want God to make me feel better NOW.
Take heart, friends. I don’t know why God allows suffering or why He doesn’t answer prayers on our timetables or in our preferred ways. I trust, however, that our loving God hears our prayers and knows our needs. And our God is a Healer. He can heal physically, relationally, spiritually, psychologically, financially, eternally, etc. He heals miraculously and medicinally. He heals instantly; He heals slowly. At times, He heals completely independently; often, however, He heals in partnership with his obedient followers (as was the case with Peter and John that day). And, thanks be to God, He heals us from “illnesses” we don’t know we have. But there’s no doubt about it, our God is a Healer.
But I do know this…refusing to patiently wait on God and following God is NEVER the answer. God has healed. God continues to heal. And God currently has the power to heal you (or those in your life who need healing), in whatever ways you need healing. So keep asking.
And when God does choose to heal, that locked gate where you sat daily, unable to ‘move’ on your own strength, will become a “beautiful” reminder of God’s healing power.
Finally, let’s not allow our own need for healing distract us from others’ needs. Regardless of current struggles, all Christians have daily opportunities to follow Peter and John’s example, joining God as He heals the world and proclaiming “we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard.”
I have to practice what I preach. My rest is over. There’s a hot gym filled with children who need to hear Jesus loves them. That’s where I’ll be this afternoon and for the next 6 weeks. Come join me. 😉
At the “beautiful gate” of the temple, As beggars and maimed we await The hand of our healing Apostle, The Lord of the “beautiful gate.”
He cometh! he cometh! salvation revealing, The Nazarene passeth this way; He cometh! He cometh! his presence is healing, He cometh! he cometh today!
From the “beautiful gate” of the temple A gleam of his beauty we see; Yet the light of his uttermost glory Is hidden from thee and from me.
He cometh! he cometh! salvation revealing, The Nazarene passeth this way; He cometh! He cometh! his presence is healing, He cometh! he cometh today!
Through the “beautiful gate” of the temple The flood of hosannas we hear, And we know, by the voices of triumph, The step of our Healer is near.
He cometh! he cometh! salvation revealing, The Nazarene passeth this way; He cometh! He cometh! his presence is healing, He cometh! he cometh today!
He is near! he is near! he is waiting, By the gate of the temple he stands; He touches the maimed, and exulting We leap with the life from his hands.
He cometh! he cometh! salvation revealing, The Nazarene passeth this way; He cometh! He cometh! his presence is healing, He cometh! he cometh today!
–“At the Gate Called Beautiful” Flora Best Harris, 1893
A drunk man I haven’t seen in 2.5 years stood on the front porch. We spent 10 minutes talking outside. The last time he stood at our front door, I was returning his clothes that had just gone through our washer and dryer. His face filled my mind as I wrote a blog post about it October 2016. He’s a homeless alcoholic and IV Meth user who drifts between our neighborhood and family out-of-state.
Shocked to see me when I opened the door last night, he repeated, “you’re still here, you’re still here!”
He started crying after mentioning how I’d previously helped him. The tears surprised and embarrassed him; he assured me they weren’t a sign of his weakness.
Before he walked back into the darkness, I hugged him, prayed for him, and invited him to our 4:00pm [now 10:30am] Sunday service and dinner. I also invited him to return for a shower in our gym and a chance for me to wash his clothes.
About half our conversation was incoherent- stories about those who hurt him while on the streets. Near the end he said, “thanks for letting me vent.”
This man needs more help than our church or I can give. And he doesn’t need me enabling his self-destructive life.
What I can give
But tonight’s encounter reminded me a few things I CAN give him, and all people like him, who ring the Parsonage doorbell: -Prayer -A few minutes of time -An unafraid hug -A hot shower -A chance for freshly-washed clothes -An invitation to join a loving community -A meal with people who won’t abuse him, take advantage of him, or steal from him -Lord willing, my familiar face at the door if he doesn’t return for another 2.5 years
Your situation may not allow you to give all I can give. Not everyone has a church gym with shower facilities next door. Not everyone’s house is well-known among the local homeless. And not everyone should open their door at night to a drunk homeless man.
But what could you give to those in need? How could you help those who need it? Start there.
And to my pastor colleagues… What could you do to stay? What changes in your neighborhood might happen once people start realizing “you’re still here?”
Occasionally, God gives me a sudden glimpse into my own spiritual immaturity.
In our church’s worship service last night [we meet at 4:00pm instead of the usual Sunday morning times], missionaries shared how God had been working in the country this couple had served for 20 years. The missionaries are “Creative Access” missionaries. This means the country where they serve is hostile to indigenous Christians and has completely banned foreign Christian missionaries from entering.
As the missionaries spoke, I saw pictures of poor and harassed people quietly serving Jesus. I heard stories about faithful Christian pastors enduring persecution and harassment. For months, one pastor was arrested every Saturday night and released every Monday. Local authorities were determined he would never preach on Sundays.
But during the entire presentation, what was the dominant thought running through my head?– “Why can’t I get more people to attend our church services?
I can’t grow a church
Now, if you’re part of our church family and reading this my next statement will come as no surprise. I can’t grow a church.
Pick any hobby, skill, or industry…you’ll find some in the field who appear more naturally gifted. For example, some people put in no effort, but yield big results. Some put in a little effort and yield exponential results. And then there’s people like me who put in massive effort (at least, it feels like massive effort) and yield tiny results. [For this blog post, the particular “result” I’m referring to is numerical church attendance growth.]
Here’s the honest truth: I’m just not a great pastor. Given my personality and natural gifts, pastoring a church (in the more traditional sense of that word) is difficult for me.
Before you reply to this post with a warm compliment or kind argument that I’m wrong, let me stop you. I’m not fishing for compliments. But nor am I unfairly criticizing myself.
Here’s another much-needed honest truth: It’s ok to not be “great.” There’s no need to fake it and no need for false compliments affirming that I really am great. I can’t find one Biblical calling for our “greatness.” However, I do find may verses calling for our faithfulness.
No, I’m not a great pastor. Nor am I a terrible pastor. I’m a fairly adequate pastor with pretty average pastor skills (again, using “pastor” in the way that term has commonly been used and understood in North America for much of the last 50-100 years).
Weakness on Display
Last night, while surrounded by multiple vacant seats, I felt like my “average” skills were on display. If a “great” pastor can draw a crowd…I’m not great.
When it comes to ‘average pastoral gifting,’ I score kind of low. In spite of my efforts to improve, my ‘pastoral score’ hasn’t raised much. To borrow a phrase from one of Jesus’ parables, I’m just not a “ten-talent” pastor.
If you’re familiar with our church and the ways I’ve attempted to faithfully follow God the last several years, you’ll know our church does some pretty “out of the box” ministries. We have a great summer day camp we started years ago to low-income families, we host youth groups all summer on mission trips, we’ve helped plant churches, we provide building space at below-market rates to other churches/ministries, and we have a unique summer intern training program.
I can’t speak for all pastors, but I know many struggle with the same gnawing question I felt during last night’s Sunday service– “Whatdoes all that matter if I can’tgrow a church?”
Pain
When it comes to ‘average 33-year-old male health,’ I also score pretty low. And (just as with pastoring), in spite of my efforts to improve, my ‘health score’ hasn’t raised much.
Pain has been my constant Silent Companion for over a decade. I’ve written several times about my pain and auto-immune disorders. But, in daily conversation, I rarely discuss my ailments or pain. I just live with it, avoid choices that exacerbate my body’s frail condition, and occasionally experiment with new treatments/practices. I’ve even learned psychological coping mechanisms that help me almost forget the pain…almost.
Sunday night, I could not forget the pain. Sunday morning, I made some stupid choices that would guarantee I’d feel the pain by Sunday night.
What did I do, you ask? Run five miles? Help someone move? Exhaust myself in the heat?
No. I ironed 6 dress shirts.
An ironing board defeated me.
100% cotton shirts ARE. THE. WORST.
Nothing causes me more excruciating pain and exhaustion than standing in one place.
I spent forever ironing one shirt with a tag that said “Wrinkle free.” Yeah right.
By the end of our Sunday service, I could barely think straight. Holding the simplest of conversations required tremendous mental effort.
My wife headed out for an evening meeting. So I quickly gave the boys baths, put our youngest down for bed, and then laid down on our oldest son’s bed. Finally, I could get off my feet.
For the next 20 minutes, I gave our oldest son the best of myself I could muster. I faked smiles and enthusiasm, attempting to force the pain from my mind.
We had the kind of conversation you’d expect when a pastor-dad attempts to debrief with his 5-year-old son the church Missionary Service: a mixture of short, churchy phrases interrupted with descriptions of Lego and train creations scattered around the room.
Thanks, Andrew
I hid my pain and frailty, and listened our sweet boy’s stories about the imaginary city laid out on his bedroom floor. And then Andrew Murray’s precious words came to mind.
“The Christian often tries to forget his weakness; God wants us to remember it, to feel it deeply. The Christian wants to conquer his weakness and to be freed from it; God wants us to rest and even rejoice in it. The Christian mourns over his weakness; Christ teaches His servant to say, ‘I take pleasure in infirmities. Most gladly …will I…glory in my infirmities’ (2 Cor. 12:9)’ The Christian thinks his weaknesses are his greatest hindrance in the life and service of God; God tells us that it is the secret of strength and success. It is our weakness, heartily accepted and continually realized, that gives our claim and access to the strength of Him who has said, ‘My strength is made perfect in weakness”
Andrew Murray, Abide in Christ: The Joy of Being in God’s Presence
In our 5-year-old’s bedroom, God (once again) placed my pastoral and physical weaknesses back into proper perspective.
What shall we do?
Can you relate? Change my “pastor score” and “health score” to the pertinent “scores” in your life. How do you score in the areas that matter most to you?
Are you the top in your class? Are you the highest-earner, the most qualified, most awarded, most admired? Or, do you score a little lower? Maybe you score really lower. Maybe you’ve quit all sorts of things because your low “scores” caused too much shame.
Do you feel weak? Inadequate? Not good enough? Do you feel embarrassed that your hard work often produces little evidence of “success?” If we do feel this way, what should you and I do about it?
Oh, sure. Many of us could be a little more “successful” with more effort. It’s possible (likely?) you and I could take tangible steps today to learn, improve, change, redirect our efforts, or even totally change directions. It’s even possible we’re unsuccessful because we’ve traveled down a path God never intended.
If God wants us to take any steps to improve or change (small or big) to increase our success, He will gladly show us the way forward as we seek His guidance.
But we should never assume we have the same definition of “success” as God has. Perhaps we do; perhaps we don’t [a wealth of Biblical examples suggest we usually don’t].
Whispers and Screams
The world (and much of the Church) shuns weakness… Weakness, and situations spotlighting our weaknesses, should be avoided at all costs. And when we can’t avoid our weakness, we should at least hide them.
The World SCREAMS “Only the strong succeed!”
The Church SCREAMS “Strong pastors – good pastors – skilled pastors – grow churches!“
My own thoughts SCREAMED “You are not good enough, not skilled enough, not equipped enough, not strong enough. You don’t ‘score high’ enough. You are too weak!“
But then God used Andrew Murray’s comments on 2 Corinthians 12. He whispered to my troubled soul, “my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
If God “makes his strength perfect in weakness, what happens if we constantly run from our weaknesses, and the from the situations that spotlight our weaknesses? Will we miss divine opportunities for God’s perfect strength to shine through us, to even strengthen us?
If we run from Weakness, are we abandoning our (to borrow Murray’s words) “claim and access to the strength of Him?” I don’t know about you, but I’ll take God’s strength over this world’s strength any day of the week.
God, protect me from believing Human Strength can ever substitute for Divine Power.
And by the way,
If you’re near southwest Fort Worth and looking for a church with a “fairly adequate” pastor, I’d love to see you Sunday. Don’t forget, I’m still trying to grow this church. 😉
“I’ll Sing of the Wonderful Promise”
1. I’ll sing of the wonderful promise That Jesus has given to me; “My strength is made perfect in weakness, My grace is sufficient for thee.” And lest my poor heart should forget it, Or ever forgetful should be, He still keeps repeating the promise, My grace is sufficient for thee. 2. His grace is sufficient to save me, And cleanse me from guilt and from sin; Sufficient to sanctify wholly, And give me His Spirit within. His grace is sufficient for trials, No matter how hard they may be, This promise stands over against them, My grace is sufficient for thee. 3. His grace is sufficient for sickness, Sustaining and making me whole; His grace is sufficient when sorrows Like billows roll over the soul. His grace is sufficient for service, It sets us from selfishness free, And sends us to tell to the tried ones, His grace is sufficient for thee. 4. His grace is sufficient to live by, And should we be summoned to die ’Twill light up the valley of shadows, And bear us away to Him nigh. Or when we shall stand in His vict’ry, And Christ in His glory shall see, We’ll fall at His footstool confessing, Thy grace was sufficient for me. 5. It is not our grace that’s sufficient, But His grace, it ever must be: Our graces are transient and changing; His grace is unfailing as He. And so I am ever repeating His wonderful promise to me, My strength is made perfect in weakness, My grace is sufficient for thee. Chorus: Yes, over and over and over, My Savior keeps saying to me; My strength is made perfect in weakness, My grace is sufficient for thee. —“I’ll Sing of the Wonderful Promise,” Albert Benjamin Simpson, 1843-1919
4:00pm is not the ideal time for a church service. Seriously. It’s terrible. It’s “too late” for most church attenders and “too early” for those college and young-adult church attenders who prefer evening services. But that’s when Renovation Community meets, since we share a building with other churches.
A 4:00pm Easter worship service is even worse. Almost half our church family was absent…attending Family Easter lunches that extended into the evening. In my immaturity, a low-attendance worship service still wounds my selfish pride.
This morning, I suddenly thought to create a Facebook event for our Easter service, and then pay to advertise it. My ad didn’t get approved until around 11:30am – A hastily-assembled ad with 4.5 hours of air time before service. Not good marketing plans, huh?
After our service began, a single mom and 2 of her 4 children walked in.
During our potluck dinner after service, I learned the mother’s story…divorced from an abusive marriage and had spent 6 months in a “safe home.” The mom works nights at a homeless night shelter (translation: her job doesn’t pay much).
She had recently started attending church. But then her job schedule changed- she now works Saturday nights and Wednesdays nights. So attending Sunday morning or Wednesday night church times won’t work.
The mother went to bed when she got off work this morning. She had hoped to attend the last afternoon Easter service at a large nearby church. But she just couldn’t get out of bed in time. When she woke up this afternoon, all Easter services were over.
At home, she began crying in front of her children (and in front of me when recounting her story) . After all her recent efforts to “get back in church,” they had missed Easter Sunday.
And then, she saw a Facebook ad for a 4:00pm Easter service…
——
1 Almighty Father of all things that be,
our life, our work we consecrate to thee,
whose heavens declare thy glory from above,
whose earth below is witness to thy love.
2 For well we know this weary, soiled earth
is yet thine own by right of its new birth,
since that great cross upreared on Calvary
redeemed it from its fault and shame to thee.
3 Thine still the changeful beauty of the hills,
the purple valleys flecked with silver rills,
the ocean glistening ‘neath the golden rays:
they all are thine, and ceaseless speak thy praise.
4 Thou dost the strength to worker’s arms impart;
from thee the skilled musician’s reasoned art,
the grace of poet’s pen or painter’s hand,
to teach the loveliness of sea and land.
5 Then grant us, Lord, in all things thee to own,
to dwell within the shadow of thy throne,
to speak and work, to think and live and move
reflecting thine own nature, which is love;
6 That so, by Christ redeemed from sin and shame,
and hallowed by thy Spirit’s cleansing flame,
ourselves, our work, and all our powers may be
a sacrifice acceptable to thee.
