More Light, Less Heat - Please!

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." John 1:14

This past Sunday a funny thing happened in worship. I witnessed grace in all of it's beauty pour over the rag tag followers of Christ who hang out at The Harbor Community Church. It was a beautiful moment, it was, I hope a transformational moment in our lives together.

It began with a dear friend openly, honestly, humbly, and with great confidence confess his decades long addiction to pornography - an addiction which has, in the last few years been overcome and overwhelmed by the healing nature of God's grace. My friend stood before his fellow travelers and just shared the truth of his pain. He talked about the pain, the cost, but most importantly he spoke of healing, of victory. And Grace just poured out among us.

It continued when the same friend introduced his friends - a mother and a son. The son shared that he has struggled with a same sex attraction all of his life - thus you can call him a homosexual. His story was not one of abuse but of an attraction to men that he never wanted, but could not deny. His story was striking as he shared that he came to believe that God couldn't love him, that religious people hated him so why try and struggle with the attraction. He told the story of a downward spiral into behaviors that tore at his soul. Yet, he believed that was his lot in life. By the way, he told these stories with his mother sitting by his side; her pride, pain, love and grace were clearly evident for her son.

And then as he spoke of asking God to take away this pain, this attraction, and the fact that God had not taken it away, but that God has made a way through the temptations so that he is now living a celibate lifestyle now and is committed to living as a celibate man who struggles with homosexuality, GRACE just poured out! His honesty, humility, openness, courage and grace were disarming, convicting and a beautiful reminder of mercy, love and truth.

From my vantage point on that Sunday I could see the faces of those who listened. When he asked how many had family and friends in their lives who were gay or lesbian I saw the large number of hands go up. When he talked I saw people lean forward and lean into what he said. I know this is a controversial issue and I know that some are going to jump to conclusions about myself and The Harbor Community Church (go ahead!). But what I witnessed that morning was GRACE. The kind of grace that heals, that encourages, that instructions, corrects, binds up, and heals.

John tells us that Jesus was full of grace and truth. I am thankful for that order. If Jesus had been full of truth and grace there would be no way for people like me and my friends who shared this past Sunday to ever experience grace. But because Jesus was full of grace and full of truth, he is approachable. Jesus does not ignore or condone our sinfulness - he paid the price for it! But nor does Jesus stand off and aloof demanding that we do what we cannot do - change, become good, stop looking at pornography, stop acting on our same sex attractions, stop drinking excessively, stop being a glutton - should I go on? Jesus stands before us clothed in grace. He is accessible to us in our pain and sin. He loves us as we are and too much to leave us that way.

I learned something at church this past week - imagine that! We all have our opinions, our prejudices, our interpretations, our fears - we all have this tendency to leave certain people outside of our love and God's grace. As we listened to each other this Sunday we learned, we grew, we became brothers and sisters, we experienced that overwhelming bonding of Grace.

I think what we need is more light and less heat. There have been enough sermons about homosexuality and those with an agenda. There have been enough commentators screaming that marriage is about to be destroyed. There have been enough parades and angry slogans shouted at those hateful Christians.  We need to sit down and listen to one another. We need to hear the grace in the stories of our pain. We need to see the grace in the other persons journey.

I am not saying it is time to abandon Truth. Grace would not be grace without truth and truth would be tyranny without grace.  When you face difficulties and are hard pressed to figure something out in the realm of Truth, trying trusting grace, trying acting in grace, trying giving grace it just might change us all.

I want to thank my friends who shared with us this past Sunday. I am a better person for having heard your stories and I want to learn more from the grace you have come to know in your journeys.

"Once More Unto the Breach"

      I will never forget the moment when I realized that what I thought was a simple case of laryngitis was in fact something far different. It was a Sunday evening, almost nine years ago. I had struggled with a hoarseness in my voice for about two months. I wrote off the symptoms as having to do with being outside in the cold a great deal, dealing with a typical winter head cold, allergies, or any other number of nuisance  issues.  However, that night as I took my place in the pulpit to deliver the Sunday evening message, I was unable to make a sound. I opened my mouth, formed the words as I had all of my life and nothing came out - not a raspiness, nor a scratchy sound, not even a whisper - NOTHING! I knew something was wrong when I saw the look on Pamela's face. I tried to apologize as best I could and eventually a friend in the congregation gave a very good impromptu message in my stead.
      That week I began a journey that started with a local doctor and journeyed to doctors in Chicago, Nashville, Memphis, and finally back to St. Louis.  I did not have some virus or other stress induced inflammation of my throat, in fact, the doctors argued amongst themselves as to what I had. One doctor told me I needed to have surgery on my vocal chords to remove a vocal node. One suggested I find another line of work, because as he put it, "You will not be able to speak above a whisper in ten years if you keep preaching and teaching with the same pace and schedule." I was eventually directed to a clinic in Chicago that was doing some experimental therapies. Fortunately that clinic was opening an office in St. Louis and I was able to go there for my treatments. I was entered into an experimental group with the goal of getting my voice capacity back to 85% of my original strength. The treatments worked and worked  very well. I achieved the 85% capacity within the treatment phase and was released from the test group within 18 months of this ordeal occurring.
     Since that time I have had little to no symptoms and very little issues with my voice. A great deal has changed in the intervening time; I no longer preach three times on a Sunday as well as teach twice on that same day. I now share messages in a much smaller venue and am no longer a full time pastor and my new work is not nearly as taxing on my voice.  Everything seemed fine until about a month ago.
    For the last two plus years I have been singing back up vocals and doing some lead vocals with our band This Side Up. Recently, I noticed that the sound people kept turning me up to the point of feed back in our sound system. I noticed that I was having trouble with certain high notes - I blame Bear Rinehart for writing "Image of Divine" in such a ridiculously high key! And, most significantly my wife and other people close to me began to ask me those unnerving questions about my voice.
     So, off to the voice doctor I went - having convinced myself I would never set foot in his office again, or swallow that scope again, or have that nasty taste in my throat from the analgesic which makes swallowing the scope easier. And yet here I was again - "Once More Unto the Breach"
     As a result I have learned the name for my problem - Cricoartyenoid Arthritis.  It is a form of Rheumatoid Arthritis that attacks the vocal chords, specifically the tendons and cartilage which support the vocal chords.  So where did this come from? Some say it is a secondary symptom to certain forms of "Arthritides", like Rheumatoid Arthritis, Reiter Syndrome, or gout. It can come as a result of the streptococcal bacteria, or it could come as a result of trauma to the head or neck. Of all of these possibilities I have had - well let's see! Gout - Yep, that really sucks. Step Throat, oh let me count the times! Head trauma - did I tell you I played fullback and my nick name was Tank?
   So why am I sharing this in this manner? Maybe I am that narcissistic, I hope not. Maybe to help others, 45-50% of all Rheumatoid Arthritis sufferers will have issues with the larynx - maybe someone will read this and learn something helpful. Or perhaps, this is the simplest venue to share this stuff with the largest amount of people instead of reciting this over and over and over!
     The medical plans are to begin again with the treatments that were effective before, adding to them an anti-inflammatory medication,and maybe a steroid injection in the area (that sounds medieval!).I begin a twelve session therapy this coming Monday.
     The issue for me is more mental and spiritual. I thought this was OVER! But apparently there is more to come and like many I will now need to learn to deal with an ongoing health issue. I don't have to look far for good examples of that. I am surrounded by people who courageously deal with chronic pain and health struggles on a daily basis. My wife, Pamela, is one great example of a person who deals daily with chronic pain and just finds a way to be herself and to be a blessing to others.
     I love being a part of This Side Up! I love making music with this band of miscreants, and I have really enjoyed singing in worship with them. Now, I will have to learn to be content to worship with my hands and feet, with cymbals, drums and sticks - thank God it's just my voice!
     I remember when all of this first started, Pam made the observation that I was afraid. Imagine that, someone having to tell another person they were afraid. Yet, looking back, it was the first issue in my life in which I can say I was truly afraid. I learned then what David meant when he said, "What time I am afraid I will trust in Thee." I began a journey learning to trust in God, not just to know of Him, about Him, but to trust in Him. And now I have the opportunity to continue that process.
     This is not a life threatening issue, nor is it career ending, it is just 'something' to deal with.  I am good at dealing with catastrophes; it's the little, daily,nagging junk that really gets under my skin! I want to know God's plan in all of this, I want to know what God has in store through this, but most importantly I want to know God better through this.
     So, to quote my favorite Shakespearean play, 'Henry V', "Once more unto the breach!"

A Unique Opportunity: Two Churches One Location

An Open Letter to The Harbor Community Church

            Early this spring Greg Buettmann forwarded an email that we had received thru our website from Walt Eischmann, a member of Jefferson Hills Church which meets at Windsor High School in Imperial, MO.

           After 6 years of meeting and traveling around various facilities  in the Windsor campus   they began to look for an alternative meeting location. They learned what many new churches discover retail property is expensive. They were looking to rent, purchase outright, or purchase with the intent of subletting a portion of their space to recoup some of the costs.

            Somewhere in the course of their conversations the idea came up of approaching existing churches about renting space from them. They set the criteria that the church would have a similar outlook on church and ministry.  Walt began that search and came across our website thus the email I mentioned earlier.

            In response to that email, Greg Buettmann, Bill Smith  and I believed we should meet with them and hear what was on their hearts – after all this was the kind of weirdness that seems to be a part of our DNA. Bill and I had breakfast with Walt and the Lead Pastor, Steve Benke at Denny’s. It was amazing, Walt had the same passions as Bill and Steve and I had very similar stories and our journeys of the last few years mirrored each other.

            Steve and I both grew up in denominational life, went to college and seminary in denominational schools, served in denominational churches; in fact, we both served less than 10 miles from one another for 12 years and had never met. What a shame!

            From that breakfast meeting we  committed ourselves to meet again, this time with Greg.  As we all prayed together about the idea of sharing our space we went from asking God to making His will clear to asking God to stop this process if we were heading in the wrong direction.

            Eventually our leadership team and the leadership team of Jefferson Hills met  at The Harbor. I must say the first few minutes of the meeting were as awkward as an Eighth Grade Homecoming dance. We took the opportunity to go around the room and share how we came to be leaders in missional churches. This time of sharing solidified both groups understanding that first and foremost serving God this way was not a sign of insanity – there are others out there just like us! And secondly, we all sensed a wooing of God’s Spirit and a calling of our paths to be shared in a very unique way.

            So, today I am sharing with you that our Leadership Team, unanimously announces our plans to invite Jefferson Hills Church to share our space with us.

            Here are some pertinent details:

·         JHC will be paying us rent. We are working out the fine details of that this week.

·         We have developed a relationship covenant that has built in benchmarks that require both Leadership Teams to evaluate this relationship thoroughly. If one Leadership Team believes that there are problems in the process we have agreed that both Leadership Teams will view that as failure to achieve one of the benchmarks which will then allow us to part as family.

                     First Benchmark:This benchmark asks, “Can we exist side by side?” If so, consider ministry team partnerships.

                       Second Benchmark: This benchmark asks, “Can we exist side by side AND partner?” If so,

       consider longer term sustainability of shared vision.

                               Third Benchmark: This benchmark asks, “Can we exist side by side AND partner AND  pursue  a shared future?” If so consider site expansion/building purchase.

·         We will begin this relationship on September 30^th with a combined time of worship here at THCC where we will have a joint outdoor service as an opportunity to get to know one another. We will have lunch together on that day. We will have a second combined worship experience on November 25th at Jefferson Hills Church.

·         We will then have at least three Test Drive Sundays. These are to give us the opportunity to gradually work together to get all the kinks out of the system as two churches learn to have worship in the same location at different times.  Once we finalize our plans we will post these dates here and in other avenues.

·        Worship Schedule. The schedule is; JHC worship @ 9AM; fellowship time from 10:00AM – 10:40AM; THCC Worship to begin at 10:45AM. The simplest way to explain this process is that this is what we would need to be doing if we were to plan two worship services on Sunday morning.

·          We will be asking you to help in several areas: parking lot attendants as we seek to help people navigate the coming and going of additional vehicles. We will be asking you to help with being guides to help people navigate entering and leaving the building.

There are many more details to be discussed and more information to be shared. We will do our best to keep you in the loop and answer any questions you may have. If this sounds like a strange idea – it is! But please remember, God is doing something very different among us and his grace has been sufficient to this point which should give us the confidence that he will lead us in this endeavor also.

In closing, just imagine the opportunity we will have to repair the image of 'church' in our community. Imagine the opportunity to join with a church and be blessed by their strengths and to assist them in their weaknesses. We each will be able to do ministry better and more effectively as we partner together to reach our community.

I am asking you today, to covenant together with our Leadership Team to pray daily about this opportunity. Pray that God will guide us clearly, that we will see and understand that leadership. Pray that we will be wise in this endeavor and get the little details right so as not to trip over minutia. Pray that this will be an opportunity to open the hurting and maybe closed off hearts of people who have been rejected by the church in the past, who have said, “I don’t want anything to do with those people!”. Pray that this will be an occasion for a fresh wind of God’s presence in our hurting community. And finally, pray that God and God alone will receive glory as Jefferson Hills Church and The Harbor Community Church seek to demonstrate that God has indeed made one people out of separate, cut off, fearful people.

"Honor Thy Father and Mother"



       Recently I had a conversation with my dad that was amusing and troubling. I have begun to take on a role of helping my parents with some of their financial decisions - not a role I ever saw coming. With their selling their home, relocating and buying a new, smaller home, I have been involved in handling some of the finances for that process. Dad had asked me to send them some money from that transaction and I forgot to send the check!
     We both had a good laugh at the forgetfulness of a 49 year old son and an 82 year old father. I am grateful that my father did not get angry with me in the several day process of figuring out what had and had not been done.
     The troubling part though was the fear in his voice that he had made a financial error with the money and could not remember what he had done. In my journey around this globe, my father has been one of my most trusted and admired mentors. It was tough watching him loose his physical stature and not be able to physically do the things he had always done. But, I must say, watching his oncoming mental and emotional frailty is even harder. My dad is a business man. A great business man!  With the kind of business acumen that led his peers to seek out his advice, his church to depend upon his insight too much at times, and his son to  lean on him for financial and life wisdom daily.
     And now, well now it is a different story. Not that he is incompetent to make those decisions. Now he is afraid of those decisions, afraid he'll make a mistake and cause financial harm to he and my mother. In the midst of trying to figure out what had happened with a lost financial transaction, I could hear a fear and a bewilderment in his voice that was unfamiliar and disturbing. He sounded small, frail, and honestly old. Not the old that comes with age, but with stress and strain. My first inclination was to get off the phone and go hide somewhere, but in that odd twist of fate that aging places on fathers and sons I realized I could not just go away. He needed my help. Just writing that is intimidating to me.
     This should come easy for me. I should be prepared for this - after all I work for a Long Term Care ministry! But I must say it is a battle. It is a battle watching both of my parents age physically, but is a harder battle watching them age emotionally and mentally.
     Along the way I have watched a couple of friends go through the same journey. Honestly, they are farther along the journey than I and my siblings are at this moment. I have watched as they have made the complicated decision to place their moms in nursing facilities. I have even had the opportunity to help them in the process.
     Here's what I have learned so far:

• This process sucks - for my more refined friends, sorry but this just sucks! No one wants to live in a nursing facility because of all that it means and no adult child wants to be the one who says, "Mom, I don't think you should live alone anymore."
• Honoring your parents means learning to parent them as they grow less independent and more dependent on others.
• Having friends who will walk with you through the process is invaluable.
• Hard decisions are probably going to be the kinds of decisions we have to make in the rest of our times with our parents, so we need to get ready for it. They need us now, just as we needed them earlier in our lives.
• God is real! Their eyes are clouding, their hearing is fading, their friends are dying in droves, their minds are dulling, but God is real to them. Thus, we must help them continue in their maturity in Christ.

      I am thankful that I failed to mail a check to my dad. It made me slow down and look at things realistically, get over the fear of what this all means, and try, really try, to get this right.
     When I was younger honoring my parents meant doing what they asked; take out the trash, come home at a decent hour, treat them with respect, and try not to screw up my life. Now, honoring my parents means not running away from their needs, being honest with them when honesty may not be what they want to hear, and walking this slowing journey with them.
In His Grace,
A fellow pilgrim trying to get it right.

"All You Need is Love! Really?!"

What does it mean to love someone? No, seriously, what does love really look like? What does it mean to love as Christ loved us? Is that even possible?
Too often, I think we are grossly confused about love. We mistake human appetite for love, whether it's for chocolate, a medium-rare rib eye, or sex, we focus on how something or someone makes us feel and then evaluate whether or not that is love. In that aspect, love is a purely human and purely selfish reaction to the stimulus of the world around us. Surely love means more than just the reaction of our appetite or our libido?
Sometimes, I think we feel like love means we have to accept, overlook, even endorse harmful and dangerous behavior from others.  I don't know how many times I have heard, "Well, we have to love them anyway."  What does that mean? If someone we know is caught up in self-destructive behavior to stand aside with some anemic spiritual shrug, regurgitating some well worn platitude can't be all there is to love.
Seriously, there must be more - please there has to be more!
When I look at Jesus I see love and it is so intricate and faceted that it is almost beyond description. Here are just a few examples:

• He turns water into wine to please his mother and avert an embarrassing situation for a bride's parents.
• He made children the center of so many of his examples of how to follow him with simple joy and childlike whimsy.
• He put himself between selfish, bigoted religious folk and a broken woman, so that she knew that, at last, someone cared for her.
• He harshly, caustically criticized Peter for his petulance when He just told them He was going to die for them.
• And, most importantly he crawled onto a cross and let love pierce his hands and feet and side and died as the ultimate example of love.

Somehow I think you and I need to re-evaluate what love means. It is more than just fulfilling our desires. It is more than finding affinity with those most like us. It is more than just ignoring the pain of others and the pain their pain inflicts on others.
Love is a radical thing! It is a dangerous thing! It is a simple thing! But it is a thing that will change everything!

Ah, so you see, "All You Need Is Love!"



"A (not so) Long Strange Trip It's Been!

Pam and I took a rather interesting vacation a few days ago. Interesting because we were going somewhere new in places in which things were very familiar. First, we went to Eureka Springs for a quiet couple of days to celebrate our 29th Anniversary. Shhh, don't tell Pam Eureka Springs is a mecca for all things culturally liberal - it'll just mess up the experience for her!

Then, we went to visit my parents in their NEW home. Have your parents moved since you moved out of the house?  Am I the only one who found it really weird! When Kaitlyn heard that her Grandparents were moving she exclaimed, "They can't move that's Grandpa and Grandma's house!" However, in spite of my disquiet, mom and dad are more relaxed and at ease then they have been in years.  My sister is very nearby and she is having a ball 'playing' with our folks!

Next, we spent a few days hanging out with Pam's folks and helping them paint their new house -  what's with these 70 and 80 something's and new houses? My father in law and I have had our disagreements over the years, but we had a great time working, sweating, painting, sweating, eating, oh and did I say sweating?

Then, we went to my 30th High School Reunion (Ok, quit laughing at me!).  I was not sure what to expect and Pam confessed later that she was afraid she would be left out, but we had an absolute blast. There was a reason High School was so much fun.  It was the people!  Our class was loud, gregarious, mischievous, rebellious, and protective.  I would have never thought some would have grown to be the men and women they are today. And I think many of them were surprised that I am quite normal these days.

On Sunday of the week away, we had a great opportunity to worship together with my oldest (well she is!) sister.  Her church is trying to reach their culture there in the Tulsa area in a different way and seems to be having some real impact.  I have never been able to worship with my sister at her church in all of my 48 years. It was a true joy to stand beside her, sing with her, praise God together with her and celebrate our Lord together - thanks Sis!

Then, we made the trip back home. Home - hmmm, while the time away was great, returning home was even better. For the first time in a long time, I really looked forward to getting back home, back to work, back to the fellowship of fellow strange ones at The Harbor! 

And all this reminded me of Jerry's words, "What a long strange trip it's been!"  Amen.

A Humbling Opportunity

A few days ago, I received a reply from Gateway Church in Austin, TX to a request I had made about some small group materials they were offering, for free by the way!  The reply asked how we had heard about Gateway and the book by their pastor John Burke, "No Perfect People Allowed."  As a result of a very simple conversation, our story is now a part of their church planting network's blog.

Iam posting the link here to give you an opportunity to read our story from a different perspective.

https://www.elichurchplanting.​com/blog/
In His Grace

Ron

Living in the tension

     For the past couple of weeks I have been sharing with my friends at The Harbor Community Church that following Christ is like living between the tension, on one hand, of God's Truth and Justice, and on the other hand, his Grace and Mercy.

     When I was a kid I used to love to play on the train tracks near our church (I really hope my mother doesn't see this post!).  I learned that if you squat down between the tracks and look as far towards the horizon as you could, those two parallel tracks seemed to meet on the horizon.  OK! I know that two parallel train tracks will never meet, even at the horizon. And I know that there really is no such thing as a point on the horizon.  However, the idea still makes sense when you focus on the big picture - there are some things about God that seem to be running side by side but will never seem to come together.

      God's justice and his mercy seem to be aspects of his character that never come together. Yet, Christ said of himself, "When you've seen me, you've seen the Father", and it was said of Jesus that he was full of "grace and truth". So is it possible that the justice and truth of God do actually meet and intersect with his mercy and grace - YES.  They meet in the person and work of Christ who came to show us the Father.  Whenever I struggle with the Truth of God as it confronts some screwy aspect of my flawed character I am thankful for the Grace and Mercy of God that holds me to him at the same time.

     It is the living in the tension between that gives life reality.  Following Jesus is never simple, and it is far more than just about getting my fanny into heaven rather than hell.  It is all about the tension. The tension of the now and the not yet, the come as you are, and the don't stay that way. The tension of knowing Christ intimately and then realizing you really know so very little - all at the same time.

     I love my family at THCC! I love them for their honesty. I love them for their desire to know God and make him known. I love them for desiring to meet people where they are and lovingly, humbly, by God's grace. helping them not stay that way. May God increase your tribe.

Happy Mother's Day?!

      In all honesty I have to admit that holidays like Mother's Day and Father's Day are holidays that I have approached with angst as a pastor. Most churches I have pastored have acknowledged these holidays in some way or another.  Mother's day was always the diciest because of the way we acknowledged those in attendance.  First, we would recognize the youngest mom which on many occasions was a teenage, unmarried young lady - that was certainly scandalous in rural Oklahoma. Second, we acknowledged the oldest mom present which meant we were asking ladies who typically did not want to even be asked their age to stand up in front of all their peers and celebrate that they were older than everyone else - this made me sick to my stomach most of the time.  And, thirdly we recognized the woman who had given birth the most number of times. Man this was fraught with all kinds of danger.

     So, we recognized youth in relationship to birth, we recognized age, and then we recognized fertility!  Kind of weird, wouldn't you say? Given all the family means and all that it may not mean for some, perhaps we should recognize Mother's Day and Father's Day differently.

     Today, in worship we welcomed our friends by recognizing that it was Mother's Day but then, during our prayer time, we invited people to a time of prayer.  Prayer of thanksgiving for a mom who loved them and cared for them.  Prayer for those for whom mom is a painful word. Prayer for those whose womb has never been able to bring life into this world. And prayer for those for whom this day is a reminder that someone is not with them today.

     Mother's Day and Father's Day for Pam and I have been  holidays that remind us of the physical distance between us and our parents.  And now standing on the verge of being empty nesters we were both feeling somewhat down as we approached Mother's Day. So, instead of just feeling sorry for ourselves, we decided to invite a friend to lunch with us today.  Our friend is a mom who recently lost her husband and has been a model of struggling towards maturity through pain.  While at worship, Pam was approached by a new friend who shared with her that his mother passed away recently and this was his first Mother's Day without her, so Pam invited him to lunch with us as well.

     So there we were, two middle aged empty nesters missing their moms, a widow, and a young man who lost his mom too soon.  We had to introduce our friends to each other at lunch! We ate, we shared, we got to know one another better, we ate some more, and we learned a great deal about how God holds us together through loss and pain.

     At the end of the day Pam and me had one of the best Mother's Days we have had in a long time. And all of this was made possible by a great God who brought us all together through the fellowship of The Harbor.  All I can say to that is a humble, "Wow!"



Have a Happy Mother's Day wherever you are and going through whatever you are facing.

Ron

A Stranger in a Strange Land

I had the privilege today to be a part of THCC's first Blessing of the Bikes.  I freely admit I am not a biker, nor do I look like a biker, and neither do I speak biker. Needless to say I was in way over my head. So I had some options in front of me. One, I could have said this is not for me, after all I am not a biker so it would be something foreign to me. Two, I could have opposed the idea altogether. That seems to be something we have a tendency to do with things we do not understand and cannot relate to. Three, I could have acted the part. I could have rented a bike, borrowed a doo-rag, got a tattoo, not shaved all week, etc, etc. Or, I could have stumbled along trying to emulate Paul's admonition to become all thing to all people and try to learn, to bless and be blessed.

The opportunity was a great chance to intersect with many friends who love bikes and riding. I may start going on rides with them - from the comfort of our mini-van! At the conclusion of the afternoon a young man I do not know who came all the way from St. Clair asked me if I would bless his bike. No, stop reading and go back and read that sentence again. Yep, he came all the way from St. Clair to Barnhart to have his bike blessed. He asked me to pray for him! Do you get that! No, really think about it for a minute! Yep, you got it!

While I may have felt a bit awkward I did have a wonderful time.  It was cool to witness the three really really non-bikers in our fellowship (Bill Smith, David Crosby and myself) walking among the bikers, pausing and praying with them. I t was great to meet some new folks and see some folks I've know for awhile in their own comfort zone.

This was an example of our fellowship trying to be a part of our culture rather than asking our culture to adapt to us. It was an opportunity to fellowship together in our new location and it seemed that things went off without a hitch. And it was a great time to make some noise as the bikers tried to out do one another with their 'pipes' and This Side Up got to play loud - oh OK really loud!

I am constantly amazed at this journey called faith. It has been a long strange trip but it has been one that has taken my breath away, put tears in my eyes and made me smile all at the same time it seems.  I am blessed to travel this journey with some quirky strangers in a strange land. 

By the way, I am now the proud owner of my very own biker vest, little bell thingy, and a doo-rag. No, their are no pictures and if I have anything to do with there will not be any.  Thanks to all of those who made this event such a great opportunity. You know who you are and I love you deeply.

Along for the ride

Ron

Ok, Who Stepped In It?!

Nah, it's not what you're thinking at all!  The last few weeks have been an incredible odyssey of various kinds of work to get our new meeting location ready for The Harbor Community Church. We've torn walls down, built new walls, re-wired an old, underpowered and overloaded electrical system, repaired the roof, patched drywall, finished drywall, and most recently painted.

While painting today, one of our compadres was applying a floor leveling compound in some areas where, well the floor was not level - duh?!  We all watched Kevin put the material on the floor, the color of the compound - white contrasted with the beige color floor, and yet an assortment of us kept stepping in the wet flooring compound - yours truly included.  Instead of getting angry or criticizing the stepper for not paying better attention to where he/she was going, Kevin just patiently fixed the mess. We all ended up with a good laugh with each other in the midst of trying to getting the task finished.

When a fellowship is built on honesty, trust, and compassion for each other's weaknesses the little things remain just that - little. You can laugh at honest missteps (literally) and see yourself in the 'offending' persons shoes and learn not to take things so horribly serious.

I have said for many years we need to make sure we take God very serious and ourselves not nearly so . I am thankful for a ragtag bunch of people known as The Harbor Community Church.  Thanks for keeping it real and messy!

Where Your Treasure is their Your Heart Will Be....

First, let me say that I am a big Albert Pujols fan.  I admire how hard the man works to be the best baseball player since maybe Stan Musial.  I also, admire is public expression of his faith not just with his words and his gestures to heaven when he gets a hit, but the work he does through his foundation to make a real difference in lives in our communities.

Second, let me say that I am an even bigger St. Louis Cardinals fan.  Growing up in OK I used to sneak my little transistor  radio (for those of you from the MP3 world, it was a little radio with an antenna and dials..... uh never mind, you'd never understand) in bed with me so I could listen to the Cards game after it was time for me to go to bed.  One of the great blessings of moving to St. Louis is being able to attend Cards games at both old (hand over my heart) and new Busch stadium.

Now, on to my point here. I think Mr. Pujols stands at a real crossroads in his own life and as an ambassador for Christ.  Is it more important to having the largest financial contract in the history of baseball or is it more important to be known for being a person of character above the fray, or is it possible to do both at the same time.  Currently Mr. Pujols earns $14,000,000.00 per year.  That makes him one of the top ten earning baseball players in MLB.  Also, it makes him one of the highest earning workers in all of STL.  Keep in mind the average teacher earns somewhere around $40,000.00 per year.  I don't think Mr. Pujols can argue this is about putting a roof over his children's head and money in the bank for those same kids college fund.  If he invests even modestly he will live a long and very comfortable life.  Don't forget MLB players receive health insurance for life and a nice pension from the league on top of their salaries.

Mr. Pujols has the opportunity to demonstrate that life is more than money or being first in some obscene category like who makes the most money. He can demonstrate that his heart belongs to a God who supplies all our needs and continue to be a great example of Christian character and charity.  I am not saying he shouldn't try to get all the compensation he can, but in the process he runs the risk of becoming just another high priced bat whom we as fans applaud but do not respect or care about.

I thought it ironic that Mr. Stanley Musial received the Medal of Honor on the same day the news was all lathered up about Mr. Pujols stalled contract negotiations.  Yes, Mr. Musial was the highest paid player in baseball in his day and he also gave back a portion of his salary when he believed he did not live up to his abilities.  That is why we call him Stan the Man and his statue is more iconic to St. Louisan's than the Arch.

I am praying for Mr. Pujols that he will be lead by God to continue being an ambassador for Christ first and a great example of what baseball is really all about.  He has entered a torturous path which could lead to the destruction of his reputation or forever place him in the category of a man with great talent who used that talent to honor his God.

We shall see!  See you at the ball park!

A Very Common Christmas

There we were, about 40 of us caroling in the neighborhoods around THCC.  It was cold but not miserable, we were crowded on the back of two trailers, but not unhappy.  In fact, it was one of the most enjoyable nights hanging out with friends I have enjoyed in many a night!

Just a bunch of people who less than a year ago didn't know each other, who didn't know what being a family in Christ meant, and who probably never ventured into each others circles.  Some of these folks are people of means, others are not.  Some have had success in life, others feel like LIFE has been a two ton dump truck that has unloaded on them. Yet, here we were together, truly fellowshiping with each other, having a blast singing carols in front of strangers homes, and spending time in a few of our friends houses who let us traipse in to warm up and drink something warm and enjoy their hospitality.

I have been together at times and in other settings with folks and have not experienced such fellowship.  In fact, I have been among much more powerful people in my day and felt completely left out.  This was not a group of 40 people broken down into 5 -6 cliques of separate people who were occupying the same space.  We were all together enjoying each other, enjoying singing familiar songs which proclaim great Truth, invading each others homes, and doing something as simply as wishing our neighbors a Merry Christmas.  And yet, it was a profound experience as successful business men fellowshiped with common laborers, as people who've been on the inside of church welcomed those who've looked in to church from a distance most of their lives.

Our plans weren't earth shatteringly innovative, we weren't a part of something elaborate and noteworthy, we were just walking the streets of our neighborhoods singing and being a family.  It was a very common thing to do. It was done in a very common way.  Yet the impact was holy.  Yeah, I said it holy!

It's been a long time since I've since true friendship, real companionship, genuine love expressed together. It seemed to be the outgrowth of a fellowship that is color blind, socially amnesic, and blessed.

To you the family of The Harbor I want to say I love you from the depths of my soul and I wish you are a very Merry Christmas!

Friends, no not the show, well sort of, maybe?

Many of us wasted many moments of our lives watching the TV show Friends.  The premise of the show was the day to day lives of a group of friends.  There wasn't much plot other than that it seemed.  Somehow, this became compelling TV for many years.

What was so compelling about this show? Superb acting? Really! Great plot lines?  They really were quite predictable were they not? The sexual tension between the friends acted out in a confusing circular process? Somebody among the writing crew was committed to pushing some perceived social envelope if you ask me.

I think the ingredient that kept us all tuning in each week was the dynamic of friendship.  Friendship is often a missing ingredient in our lives. Some of us have had just enough friendship to make is yearn for more.  Others, feel like they've been on the outside of the friendship store looking in their whole lives. If you've been blessed with real friendships no one has to tell you how blessed you genuinely are.

Last week during a trip to OK to visit family, Pam and I had the opportunity to reconnect with some of the friends of my youth.  I had not seen some of these friends since our wedding in 1982.  One of these friends played host to the gathering. The one thing I noticed when we arrived was that everyone had gotten old!  How did that happen?  Of course there was that one friend who still had all of his hair and it was still the color it was in High School and he still wreaked of Polo Cologne.

We shared a meal, talked laughed, cried a little, played amateur philosopher, but mostly we just soaked up each others presence.  These were the friends of my youth - the people who were there to watch all the awkward junk as one goes through puberty, that first girlfriend, the first really stupid choice in a line of not so bright choices. Through it all they were and are friends, while they may have brought a word of correction punctuated with the occasional, "Ronnie, what have you done now!", they were never judgmental and often risked their own reputations and security to be there for me.

 I am blessed and thankful for the friends of my youth for they taught me the value of friendship, how to be a friend and the importance of developing friends throughout my life.  Jonathon said of David, "There is a friendship that is closer than a brother."  To that I can only say, Ditto!

No Bridge Ahead?!

Many years ago I was in Salt Lake City, UT for a Southern Baptist Convention meeting which happened to occur just prior to the Winter Olympics later that year.  Obviously, everything was under construction, especially the highway systems.

I have learned something about people who live in a particular area, they are so used to the chaos around them they don't even think about telling someone from the outside how to navigate around the commonplace chaos.  So, when we rented a car at the airport no one bothered to tell us or the other 12,000 tourists for that week that the major Interstate through Salt Lake City was under major construction.  Now when I say major I don't mean some sissy re-stripping project.  I'm talking about a 10 lane (5 each way) super highway capable of Autobahn speeds that appeared to be ready to carry us straight to our hotel and convention center.

There was one major problem.  And, when I say problem I don't mean some girly problem, I'm talking full blown, grown man kind of trouble.  The problem - THERE WAS NO STINKING BRIDGE TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE!

They had spent millions building a super highway that literally stopped at a creek.  Compared to the new Interstate system this creek was minuscule.  But because they had not built the bridge, we were stuck on the wrong side.  Imagine, several thousand Baptist preachers all stopped at the end of the road trying to figure out what to do now - the irony was palpable!  There were no signs warning that the road ended and no directions about how to get to the other side from where we were.  We were left to our own ingenuity and devices to find our way across.

That moment of utter futility has served as a metaphor for my life and ministry ever since. For the majority of my public ministry which spanned the last twenty years of the 20th Century and now the first decade of the 21st Century, "Church Inc." has been busy building super highways.  We've called them by various names:  Inerrancy, Defense of Marriage, Anti - Homosexuality, and more recently a resurrection of arguments over the nature of Election when it comes to salvation.

We have cussed and fussed our way down super highways where we have spent millions of dollars and countless hours of energy making sure we can move through these complicated issues with speed and great influence.  Our leaders have been nearly monthly commentators on news opinion programs as we've been successful in holding at bay many perceived social and moral threats.  Don't get me wrong, I am not in favor of a neutered sacred text, and I think marriage is between a man and a woman, and yes, I believe God is in charge of salvation, I am humble enough to admit I'm not sure how he calls an elect from among all of us. 

However, THERE IS NO STINKING BRIDGE TO THE OTHER SIDE!

We now stand at a precipice with the next generation starring at us from the other side.  No matter how loud we yell, they don't hear us, nor understand us (that is for another dose of randomness). Perhaps in all of our huffing, puffing and the expenditure of way too much money and effort we should have designated some resources on ensuring that we could bridge the gap to the next generation. They do not understand our holy wars, and speak a very different emotional language than us and look at us like one would an exhibit in a museum.

I can't help but hear Jesus say things like, "lay down your life", "the first shall be last", "go the extra mile".  Somehow, it seems we heard him say, "win elections", "dictate to the culture to came to us first". For those of you who know me well, I understand that it is often my nature to stand and scream at the problem.  I am done with that!  I think, it is time to climb down from the superhighway and try building a footbridge to the other side.  After all the way to peace and grace is narrow and difficult!

What a Difference a Month Makes

Today I am flying home from Fayetteville having just delivered Leah and the boys and a dog named Nova.  This was the second leg of a round trip odyssey between Fayetteville and St. Louis interrupted by a month's long visit by Leah to family while Jon was away in Louisiana on a training mission.  The first leg of the trip was incredibly eventful, as David, who is two struggled at times with the requirements of sitting strapped in a car seat for 8 hours two days in a row.

This trip was much calmer.  In the span of one month David has learned how to entertain himself with various toys and talking in 'Davidese' to Leah and I.  I really should improve my linguistics!  Erik has awakened to the world around him and plays with the toys dangling above him from his car seat.  When awake he coos and loves to giggle at his mom.

AND, Leah and I talked the whole trip.  TALKED, really talked.  She had a very difficult situation occur while she as home and it became an avenue for us to connect in ways we had not at this point.  In fact, while she was home she opened up to Pam and I and Pam's sister and brother-in-law who came for a visit.

The growth of two little boys and a daughter-in-law with her father-in-law's relationship are a reminder that change happens.  In fact, everything changes.  The only things that do not change are dead. For you perfectionists I know that dead things decay - not the kind of change I want to be a part of!

Faith changes.  It grows in understanding, dedication, risk, angst - you name it Faith is meant to change.  If you grew up in the religious traditions that I grew up with, the focus was almost exclusively upon the initial aspect of faith.  The problem with that is, yes, every journey begins with the first step, but no journey of any value has only one step.

In recent months my faith has been stretched, pushed, pummeled, blessed and changed.  I'm am not sure what is around the next bend but the twists and turns over the years cause me to have a deep trust that the rest of this journey is in the hands of someone else, someone who cares in ways I cannot begin to fathom.

Peace

Poets and Theologians Society

We are beginning an informal group for guys to eat some good food and chat about life, God, family, God, work, God, getting old, and God.  A friend came up with the tongue in cheek name, Poets and Theologians Society.  I lobbied for adding Dead Heads in the title so that I would feel more at home, but so far the name has not gained any support.

Our focus will be learning from each other and perhaps from some really wise believers who've gone before us and a few who are still on this side of the dirt.

When the idea was presented one fellow pilgrim mentioned that he wanted to be a part of the group because, "I have some serious questions bout this whole faith thing."  He went on to add, "Sometimes I really struggle with doubts and feelings of inadequacy."

As I said to him, so I say to you, 'Following Christ is not about having all the answers, in fact, it may be about having a whole new set of questions.  For those of us who have longed to have honest dialogue about stuff bigger than ourselves, I am looking forward to this opportunity to break bread together and open our hearts to one another.  Somehow I think this is what Jesus wanted for his disciples.

We are meeting on Friday evening, October 22nd, 6 PM at Casa De Vino which is in the same building complex as our offices.  They have a moderately priced appetizer oriented menu and specialize in pizzas.

We will be meeting outside in there garden area (there will be heaters) that way some of you who have talked about your burnt offerings can do so without choking the rest of us!

Come join us for an informal, relaxing opportunity to get to know one another and learn what God may have in store as well.

Road Trip and a Reminder of Dependence

I just returned from a whirlwind trip to NC to bring our daughter-in-law and two grandsons home to St. Louis for the month while our son is in LA for training.  I flew out late Monday night and Leah, the boys, a Pomeranian named Nova  and I drove back over the past two days.

Pam and I are blessed with a great daughter-in-law and two really cool grandsons.  The youngest, Erik, sat quietly in his car seat, slept, ate, pooped and repeated the process over the two day trip with little complaint over the 900 plus miles.

Our two year old grandson David was a different story.  When he was asleep he was a perfect angel.  When he was awake, well at the very least he was energetic.  Imagine being strapped in a chair for two straight days in a car when the world is happening all around you. Maybe you can understand him a bit better when you see things from his perspective.

The thing I learned from David was how frustrating it must be to almost able to communicate your thoughts but yet don't know what to call all the stuff you want to see, touch, taste, and know about.  He is very communicative but is still learning what things are and how to form the words correctly.  Thus, he goes through this kind of process:  he calls his mom, points at something shaking his head full of blond hair wildly and then looks at Leah like she is the most uniformed person he has ever known when she doesn't understand his request.

How frustrating it must be to know what you want and not be able to get the 'big' people around you to get it!  Ever feel like that?  Ever feel like that in relationship to God.  Ever been in a situation so overwhelming that even prayer became paralyzing?  Your heart knows what you need and longs to ask it, share it experience it, but your mind simply doesn't know how to communicate in words what is in your heart.

It is in those moments that God has enables to communicate with him through the 'indwelling' nature of the Holy Spirit.  Since the Holy Spirit lives in us as God's presence in our lives while we are here on earth, the Holy Spirit communicates to God those things we can't find words to describe.  So, in those moments when you feel like stomping your foot, pointing wildly and screaming like a, well a two year old, just stop a moment and reflect on the fact that the Holy Spirit knows what you're trying to say and he is communicating on your behalf.
Ahh, how deep the Father's love for us!

Allow me a moment to... well be an Okie!

nuff said!

Uggghhhh, snort, sniff, cough, gag, and other things best kept secret

I hate being sick! There I said it.  Those of you who know me well are not surprised by the comment.  For my wife, she can attest that I hate being sick so much that I even neglect taking care of myself and am constantly asking her what do I need to take to fix this!  She smiles hands me some Tylenol, pets me on the head and probably mutters something about me being a child under her breath, but I can't hear her becuase my ears are stopped up!
The common cold - nose running like the Mississippi River, head clogged like it is filled with Missouri clay, coughing like an old tractor engine not quite in time with itself.  You leave a trail of kleenex and pill wrappers behind you.  And you are about as pleasant as a rhinoceros.  Well, at least that's how I feel.
The worst part for me is feeling like I'm stuck in a room where the atmosphere is too thick to breath the air or move around freely.  I feel like everyone is mubbling while they whisper in my direction.  And, I just want this to end.
I wonder if you can catch a spiritual cold?  You know, just that malaise that comes over you every once in a while.  Where you feel thick and spiritually dull?  You don't have anything terminal - you're not caught up in some horrible sin.  In fact, you probably have been growing quiety, steadily and then you wake up with that itchy feeling and you know it is here.
Why do we get stuck spiritually sometimes?  Why do we get to that place where we just feel like we're trying to grab a nickel at the bottom of a swimming pool - you can almost grab it but run out of air and have to resurface empty handed.
My religious background screams that it is my fault!  That I did or failed to do something and thus God has inflicted my with the spiritual snots to get my attention.  Most of the time my religious background, though confident in its assertions, is wrong.
Maybe, I just needed to slow down.  Maybe I just needed to grow deaf to the noise around me for awhile.  Maybe, my spiritual cold, is a reminder that just as my salvation was the complete work of God.  My maturity is His process as well.
I love the lyrics of Keith Green, "My son, my son, why are you striving? You can't add one thing to what's been done for you.  I did it all while I was dying.  Rest in my grace, my peace will come to you." 
Ahh, common cold, my nemesis, my friend.  You will pass as quickly as you came, probably without any help from all the medicenes that make me feel like I'm encased in bubble wrap.  Spiritual cold?  Slow me down a bit, remind of the big hand of God's grace and turn the lights back on when I'm ready.