When People Leave

One of the most painful events for a pastor is when someone decides to leave the church. There is a certain feeling of loss. Some leave the church because they have been transferred and that kind of leaving is hard but stays pretty much in the catagory of loss. There are others that leave because in some way the church or most likely the pastor has disappointed them. They feel their needs will be better met at another church or at times no church at all. With these there is not just a loss but also a feeling of rejection. It is hard not to take it personally. I think that is why it is so difficult for a pastor. There are others who make public their reasons for leaving and try to get others to leave with them. Those are the most painful of all. I was thinking about a few of those people the other day when I was praying. I felt like God asked me a question in my spirit. I want to be careful here because God does not speak to me in an audible voice. It is more like an impression. The question was,"Joe, would you die for these people"? It did not take me long to respond. I said simply,"No". I always like to be honest with God. There was a long pause. I kind of expected God to be disappointed or tell me I should be willing, that I should be able to put the pain they caused behind me and love and forgive them. He didn't say any of this. After the long pause He said," I did". That was it. The end of the conversation. The thing that struck me is that it was no more difficult for God to love these people than it is for him to love me. It did not make me think these people were better than I had thought them to be but that I was worse than I thought I was. The gospel is a powerful thing in the hands of a mighty God. I got up from my chair a kinder and gentler and more humble man. Who would have thought it would be that kind of conversation that would ease the pain of rejection and disappointment. Maybe since the cross is the ultimate place of rejection it is the only place to take mine.

Merry Christmas

On this Christmas morning I just want to take a moment and wish you all a very Merry Christmas. May the peace on earth announced by the angel be evident in your home and life and may you experience the exquisite love of the God who sent His son for you. For unto you is born this day a Savior who is Christ the Lord. Amid all the wrappings and gifts, feasting and laughter, remember to be thankful for the greatest of all gifts. In the words of tiny Tim, "God bless us everyone".

Five Golden Rings

I spent last weekend going to Christmas concerts. When I say that, I mean I went to the same Christmas concert 5 times. It was the annual Christmas concert of our church and since I was speaking I needed to be at all of them. When I told a friend I was going to be at all the concerts he suggested a way to sneak in for my time but avoid having to sit through the whole thing each night. I considered that and could have pulled it off but I am so glad I didn't. There is something that happened to me every night as I listened to the concert. There was an anticipation, a sense of wonder and finally a wave of joy that would wash over me. I loved it. Part of it is because our people work so hard and are so incredibly gifted the production itself was extraordinary. Part of it is the beauty of the music and this particular time of year. And part of it was watching the people as they were singing each night. I loved to watch their faces. They are faces I know, faces with stories and each story is a story of a person who has had a collision with a Savior. So, each night I watched the faces and could see traces of Jesus. That was the best part of the concerts and the part I looked forward to each night. By the end of the evening I found myself singing with all the other faces for all I was worth to the God who one day decided to hit me with such force the impression is still there. I think the imprint comes out most when people sing. I think if I could choose to have any gift it would be to have a voice that matches the impression Jesus left the day he first told me how much he loved me. I had the exquisite pleasure of spending 5 nights hearing the voices of my friends who have the gift I long for and it was absolutely wonderful.

Thoughts on the 40th Christmas

I had to go out today to pick up a few things. It is one week until Christmas and the stores and the parking lots are packed. And nobody is very happy. Wow. It got me thinking about how Christmas got started. I am thinking maybe five years after the death and resurrection of Jesus a couple of the disciples were talking. Maybe a couple of the lesser known ones, let's say Nathaniel and Bartholomew. They are walking along sometime late December (you Bible scholars out there- I know it wasn't December but work with me) and Nathaniel turns and says," Hey Bart, did you know that Jesus was born right around this time?" And Bart says, "Really? I had no idea. How do you know?" And Nate says," One time when we were walking near Bethlehem I was walking close to him and he stopped and just looked over toward the town. For just a minute it was just me and Jesus and he said, 'Nate, it was there. Right there. Thirty two years ago almost to the day the census brought us down and my mother gave birth to me there'. That is about all he said but I will never forget it". So that night Nathaniel and Bartholomew are with around six other guys and Bartholomew blurts it out. Every one just sits there for a minute and lets it sink in what it means that Jesus ever came in the first place and how their lives have been forever changed by what happened in Bethlehem nearly 40 years earlier. They talk for a while about Jesus and particularly the first time each of them met him. They laugh and they joke and more than anything they are thankful. They end up spending some time praying and thanking God for what He did in sending Jesus to be born and then to die for them. I think it was one of those really sweet good nights when friends get together and remember the best of times and there is nothing remotely bad about the evening or anything that was said. And they decided to do it again the following year and then they went home. Today it is full of shopping and presents and wrapping and deadlines and people frustrated and people spending more than they should on people who have too much already. So, maybe it is too much to ask to try to change the 25th from being a gift orgy but maybe between now and then we can get with a couple of friends and have a Christmas like I imagine the disciples did and that will be the best night of all.

Happy Birthday

Today my first born turns 25. It seems like just yesterday I wandered through the halls of a hospital like a lost Indian chief mumbling "I have a son. I have a son". I was two years younger than he is today when he was born. I was scarcely more than a boy myself when God saw fit to make me a father. There are many roles I fill in my life. Pastor, counselor, son, brother, husband and father to name a few. My favorite vocation and probably the most important is that of being a dad. There were no classes to take and no degree offered for this incredible vocation. The only real training I had was being a son to a great father and feeling what it felt like to be loved by a strong hand. So, I have tried to imitate the one that raised me. Today I have the great blessing of having Jeremy home and hearing his laughter even as I type these words and knowing too that my father sits just on the other side of a wall now living with us. Here I sit sandwiched between the father who loved me and the son I love. It is a good place to be and it is the same place my Father in heaven has placed me. Sometimes there is a goodness in life that can be tasted. Today it will be the taste of birthday cake shared by three generations with a grateful son right in the middle.

Tears In Colorado

A troubled young man walked into a church and shot two teenage girls. News agencies have been covering the story. They are also asking a lot of questions surrounding the security plans for larger churches. I have been thinking long and hard about how to keep our people safe while they are at worship. It is a weird thing to have to think about. Church is supposed to be a sanctuary. A place of peace and worship and love. And yet, someone walked in with a gun and ended lives right there. In the middle of the church is a cross. It is the symbol of our faith. On that cross the most vicious act of violence took place. There was never a more innocent victim than Jesus. The Romans had perfected the execution process to maximize pain when they came up with scourging followed by crucifixion. As Jesus was dying he used one of his last breaths to ask God to forgive those who were doing the killing. His death seemed so senseless, so cruel, and yet it has become the event that gives our lives meaning. Christians follow this Savior. The One who loved his enemies, prayed for His killers, and freely laid his life down. Early Christians were rounded up and fed to lions. They went without a fight. They went loving their enemies and praying for the ones who were throwing them into the arena. One centurion was quoted as saying,"Behold, these Christians die well". He meant it as a compliment. Followers of Jesus have always been easy prey for violence. This shooting in Colorado has reminded me of what it means to follow Jesus. It also reminds me that the security of a follower of Christ, the real security can't possibly be beefed up. We will love our enemies, pray for those who do violence to us, we will die well and keep our eyes on our Savior who did the same for us.

The Steeple I Love

I love the steeple of our church. Nearly every day when I come to work I glance up at it and smile. I was reading about steeples the other day. One of the reasons behind steeples that shoot way up into the sky is the church was built in the middle of the town. It was usually built on the highest point and the thing built on the highest point of the city defined the city. The Acropolis in ancient Greece would stand in the center of the city and was the center, even the soul of the city. The highest ground would be given to the highest value. The steeple of a church would rise above any and every other building and thus proclaim the supreme value of God to the people of that town. It is interesting that now the highest buildings in any city are usually building dedicated to commerce. I think of the Key Bank building in downtown Cleveland. The pattern seems to hold with even modern man that the greatest value of the community towers above even in buildings. So, I look at our steeple and I smile. I like that it towers up high enough for me to see from the highway. I want it to be true that we are a city on a hill and that Hudson Community Chapel stands as a statement of value for us and for our little community. So the next time you come to church, go ahead and stop and take a gander at the steeple and say a little prayer that light would shine from this place and from your life.

The Weather Outside is Frightful

It is snowing outside as I write. I like snow. I like it even though it is dangerous to drive on, even though it is slick to walk on, even though it requires shoveling and scraping and makes my hands feel like wood. I am not sure why I like it so much. My daughter likes it because each flake is unique and beautiful in its own right. But I don't often take the time to look at individual flakes. I think it is because it covers my world in a white blanket. It makes the world quiet and a little softer. It also covers it in a single color. It take winter to make me ready to appreciate the single color of white. In the summer there are few things more beautiful than the green of a fairway on a cloudless day with the sky as blue as the ocean. Autumn brings a tapestry of colors that delights and surprises me every year. Winter comes and slowly turns the world brown. The leaves drop and the grass turns rusty and grey clouds cover the blue sky. But then the snow comes and the earth itself seems to pull the snow up to its chin like a quilt. Like most things in my life, the snow makes me think of Jesus. When the snow drapes itself over the brown world I think of forgiveness. "Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be made white as snow" the prophet shouts. And so they are. My life all muddy and brown is made white and clean by the Son who loves me and shines brightest right here in the winter months. So, while the weather outside is frightful, the love of Jesus makes the weather in my soul better than ever.