coryglover's posterous

Lately, the buzz on the local sports talk radio channels has been all about Dirk Nowitzki, the star of the Dallas Mavericks, and what his future might be. All sources seem to indicate that he will be opting out of his current contract to sign a new deal with the Mavericks, a move that would give him more money in the long run and allow the team to save a little money to spend elsewhere on another free agent. Locals believe that Dirk is a legitimate star and #1 option who need only to have the right pieces put around him in order to win; however, many in the national media think that Dirk is a good #2 option at best.

The argument against Dirk as a #1 is flawed. It places expectations upon Dirk that aren’t applied equally to other stars in the league. For example, though LeBron has not won a title, this failure is placed on the inability of the Cavalier organization to put the right pieces around him to maximize his potential; yet, while the exact same scenario is true for Dirk, people was to say that he’s just not a capable #1 option. It’s ludicrous. Kobe didn’t win (after Shaq) until they brought in Gasol to help him. Jordon didn’t win until Pippen arrived. Pierce didn’t win until he got Allen and Garnett. The point is that it’s not about an individual at all – it’s about putting the right pieces together to form the best team.

This discussion peaked my interest because one of the biggest struggles I face in my humanity as a pastor is related to my value and ability. As I’ve said before, I fluctuate between inflation and deflation of my own ego.

Some days, I am tempted to believe that I am not good enough…that I can’t carry the load by myself…that I’m really only a good #2 guy that is supposed to make other #1 guys look good. The whisper in my ear says, “You’re only a Pippen.”

Other days, I feel like there’s no smell emanating from the restroom as I depart from a different kind of number two.

Usually, it is one extreme or the other – the sin of not staying balanced and living within the tension.

I think my lack of stability stems from my tendency to evaluate myself against others. We all want to know that we are good enough and that we have what it takes to stick with this ministry thing for the long haul…and part of the way we gauge that is through the unfair and flawed system of comparison.

Wait, did I just say that out loud?

One day, I will learn to trust. To let go of my control. To flourish in the context to which God has called me instead of comparing myself to others. To finally accept who I am and how God has called me to serve. To rid myself of the temptation to think too highly or too lowly of my identity and ability. To stop using ungodly measurements to determine my worth. To know that a mosaic put together by God is much more beautiful that anything I could ever paint or assemble.

One day.

Pentecost Sunday is always a great day in mainline Protestant churches. If for only that Sunday, we give ourselves permission to let go a little...to embrace our inner charismatic and celebrate the Spirit. Many wonder why we only approach worship this way once a year. I think it has something to do with knowing that Pentecost will be the last liturgical celebration we will get to have for quite a while...

Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost are all behind us now. Since the beginning of Advent, we’ve walked through the story of our faith…through the birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ and culminating with the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. We even pulled out all the cool liturgical colors of purple, white, and red to accompany these seasons of the Christian calendar.

Now that we’ve reached the end of that narrative, we enter the long, drawn-out period know as “Ordinary Time”. This season starts this upcoming Sunday (May 30^th) and lasts through the third Sunday in November (21^st)…a staggering 26 Sundays…before we begin Advent all over again and the cycle repeats. From now until then, each Sunday will be known by its distance from Pentecost and an abundance of the color green.

Although the name “Ordinary Time” doesn’t mean “common” (the name comes from the word “ordinal”, meaning “counted time”), it is tempting to approach this season as mundane and unremarkable.

Yet, this can also be a time to renew our faith. Without the demarcations of high and low points and major holidays, we can rediscover what it means to live ordinary faith in an ordinary world.

I ran across an article, written by Melody Wilson Shobe, which said it best:

“The very fact that the church has a time called ‘Ordinary’ is a profound theological statement. It is a reminder of the presence of God in and through the most mundane and ordinary seasons of our lives. God is not only on the mountaintop or in the valley, but walking alongside each of us when the flat road stretches interminably into the horizon…It is a reminder that when God came and lived among us in the person of Jesus Christ, (God) experienced the same ordinary reality that we all experience. And that God, in Christ, offered us the opportunity to transform the most ordinary, mundane experiences into extraordinary events infused with the presence of God. God is there, present in the midst of the ordinary, just waiting for us to recognize it.”

This upcoming Sunday is Pentecost.

All my life, I’ve heard teachings and sermons about Pentecost being symbolized by wind. Some churches even pull out big fans on Pentecost in an attempt to reenact the events of this liturgical holy day. We use this wind metaphor to imagine how the Spirit works…free, untamed, uncategorized, spontaneous. We might even reference Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus in John chapter 3, saying (wrongly) “the Spirit blows as it pleases.”

Neither Acts nor John says this. Instead, what we find is the sound of wind.

Acts 2:2 – “Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the house where they were sitting.”

John 3:8 – “The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

Acts 2 doesn’t say anything about wind blowing…it only says that it sounded like wind was blowing. And Jesus uses wind as a metaphor – but not for the Spirit. He uses it as a metaphor for those born of the Spirit…that would be us.

Perhaps, in light of this, we should approach Pentecost a little differently. Instead of thinking about how the Spirit is "blowing" in our lives, maybe we should ask ourselves how people hear us. What do we sound like?

I’ve heard lots of sermons about how people of faith look (John 13:35; Philippians 2:15-16)…I’ve even heard sermons about smell (2 Corinthians 2:15) or taste (Psalm 34:8)…but I can’t think of the last time I heard someone suggest that we consider how we sound.

So, maybe this year we should think about how we are heard...

If we are people born of the Spirit, what do we sound like?

1 Corinthians 13:1 - “If I speak in human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

This week, I realized that the LOST finale will be airing on the Christian celebration of Pentecost. Pentecost literally means “fiftieth day” and is historically connected to the Jewish festival of Shavuot, which commemorates God giving the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai fifty days after the Exodus. For Christians, Pentecost is also the celebration of the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the early followers of Jesus during this Jewish festival, as recorded in the 2nd chapter of Acts.

While we consider this day to be the “birthday of the Church” (at least that’s what we say during the children’s sermon), Pentecost is really about the commissioning of the New Humanity in Jesus, where the Church begins to live into the reality of the Kingdom/Reign of God on earth:

Acts 2:42-47 - "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."

Acts 4:32-34 - "All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God's grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need."

They come together as a new community…as one…to break bread together and remember Jesus…to break themselves open and pour themselves out for others…and they changed the course of human history. Because of Jesus, everything changed.

While it might be a stretch, perhaps this is an indication of what is to come on the New Island. Isn’t it possible that the New Island, under the protection and direction of Jack, will be a place of true community...sort of a little Kingdom of Heaven on earth?

Also, depending on your theology, this vision of the Church can be seen as a return to Eden, the place where everything was as God intended it to be, or redemption from the Fall, where humanity screwed it up. I think there are some significant parallels to what many believe happened in the Garden of Eden and what has happened on the island (maybe that's why Mother and Esau/MIB have been referred to all along as "Adam and Eve").

Adam and Eve had all of paradise to themselves but were told not to eat of the tree that brought knowledge of good and evil. Jacob and Esau/MIB were told never to enter the cavern of the golden light…the “source” and “heart of the island”…the place of “life, death, and rebirth”.

Adam and Eve ate of the tree and evil was introduced into the world (or at least their awareness of it). Jacob threw Esau/MIB into the cavern and Smokey – which we are led to believe is pure evil – was set free on the island (and seeks to be set free in the whole world).

Adam and Eve, in their innocence and immaturity, didn’t have categories for nakedness and shame and were shown them by the evil one. God asks them, “Who told you that you were naked?” Jacob and Esau/MIB didn’t have categories for death (“What’s dead?”) and were evidently shown (to Esau/MIB) them by Smokey in the form of their dead mother. Fake Mother asks how Esau knows things she didn’t teach him or was protecting him from.

So, just as Jesus defeated evil and death through his death and resurrection, which the Church bears witness to through the New Humanity and in its actions in the world, somehow Jack will defeat Smokey, containing evil on island or eliminating it altogether and create a New Island of reconciliation and hope!

Or I could just be crazy…

And I’m excited to find out!

“He himself was not the light; he only came as a witness to the light.” – John 1:8 

Though none of us would want to admit it, the truth is that everyone who serves in the church sometimes blurs the line between being a witness to the light and being the light itself.

You can’t really blame us…people routinely throw us into this position, desperately hoping that we are something more spiritual than they are…something other. As if WE were the magic bullet needed to fix everything through our creativity and personalities. Good sermon, preacher…I can tell you spent a lot of time on it.

We allow our egos to take over and begin to think that maybe some of the good stuff that is happening might be of our doing.

And in doing so, we cease being faithful to the light. Every day, in whatever way, we have to remind ourselves of John 1:8 – we are not the light.

Before a summer camp last year, I was very uneasy. The leadership group of teens and adults had come in a day early to make sure everything was ready for the campers’ arrival. But my spirit was restless and I sensed that, while we had done everything to be physically ready, we had not truly prepared ourselves to be spiritually ready. 

I wasn’t even ready myself...so rather than trying to force something artificial during this scheduled time of worship - as if the Spirit of God were something we could tame - I simply owned this fact and invited to group to be honest about who we were in that moment.

To the side I had placed a loaf of bread and a chalice, and I was prepared to wait all day until something broke free before I hurried to let that sacred ritual bail us out.

After I spoke, I sat down. The silence was deafening. I had invited them to share, not spend some time in silence. Doubts began to creep in, forcing me to reevaluate my plans, but something inside of me screamed out to wait.

And wait...

And wait...

After about 15 minutes of nothing, an adult leader opened the floodgates. She could no longer hold back the tears and pain within her heart and soul. She shared about abuse and healing...about pain and redemption...about doubt and transformation...about God helping her to move out of the shell of unworthiness to embrace her beauty and identity as one loved by God. She said that she was a butterfly, about to spread her wings.

And then, seemingly on cue, a butterfly landed on our communion bread. And we all knew it was time…

Journaling has long been a good spiritual discipline for me, even when the habit becomes inconsistent. Forcing myself to stop long enough to recognize and record how God is moving in my life has deepened my spirituality. If you've never tried it, I would encourage you to do so.

A couple weeks ago, while on a spiritual retreat, I read back through some of my old journal entries. While doing so, I was reminded of an old Caedmon’s Call song called “Thankful”:

You know I ran across an old box of letters

while I was bagging up some clothes for Goodwill

But you know I had to laugh at the same old struggles

that plagued me then are plaguing me still

Discovering that you are still struggling with some of the same issues months and years later can be a very humbling experience. You are tempted to doubt your faith, to wonder if you really have what it takes to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, and to accept the fact that you’ll never really have your act together.

Many of us have this experience when we think about our lives or our church. We recognize patterns of dysfunction and remember great adventures of missing the point.

While remembering and reflecting on the past opens us up to see the reoccurring struggles that plague us as finite human beings trying to understand and follow an infinite God, it can also remind us of God’s faithfulness, blessing, and movement in our lives.

The Good News is that God never lets go of us, even in our greatest moments of struggle, doubt, or dysfunction. When we stop and pay attention, the most significant thing we find is not our consistent struggle, but the persistent love of God coming to us in spite of it.

When you look back on the last few years of your life, what do you see? Consistent failures or unwavering grace? Human frailty or divine stability?

When Marlene and I moved into the last house we owned, we decided to buy a new dryer to match our recently purchased washing machine. The current dryer worked fine...it was old and didn’t match, but it still ran just fine.

We didn’t want to be too overtaken by American consumerism so we decided to balance out the cosmos by giving our dryer away. We weren’t going to sell it like those other, less self-aware Christians, using the proceeds for another overindulgent meal at Olive Garden. No, we would give it away, no strings attached.

Now God only needed to provide a person in need. We considered putting an ad in the paper. First come, first served. Take it as is.

Before we could do that, I heard a knock on the door. Our next door neighbor stood awaiting a response…

We stuck out like a sore thumb in our neighborhood, being one of only two Anglo families on the street. We moved there to downsize, save some money, and attempt to actually live out our faith (Galatians 5:6b - “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love”). And God took us up on that offer on more than one occasion.

I recounted this move and the motivation behind it a few weeks earlier to my ordination committee. I told them that we were hoping to express the love of Jesus in some tangible ways that we couldn’t in the suburban neighborhood we’d lived, surrounded by retired white people with needs met by children and a pension check every month.

I befriended our next door neighbors early on. Or maybe I should say that they befriended me. Fresh off the ordination interview, I was mowing my lawn when they asked if they could use my equipment for their lawn. Of course the answer was yes, so I let go of my unhealthy connection to stuff that I own and helped them mow, weed-eat, and edge their yard.

So, when the father stood at my door wanting to know if they could use our dryer, I knew God was up to something.

Be careful what you wish for...cause you just might get it...and have your bubble burst beyond repair.

“They said to the woman, ‘We no longer believe just because of what you said. Now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.” - John 4:42

Verse 39 says that the Samaritan people believed just because of the testimony of the woman at the well…

Or the personality of the minister…

Or the creativity of the worship service…

Or the door prizes of the cool youth group…

Or the projection and light shows and rockin’ band…

An old man in my church said that he became a Christian because he trusted the people who told him the gospel was true. This is essentially what happened in Samaria…and this might be effective for reproducing rational faith.

Yet, the Samaritan people also invited Jesus to stay for two days so they could experience him for themselves. Perhaps this is the difference between rational faith and experiential faith...

Experiential faith goes beyond and below and deeper into.

It requires that we invite Jesus to stay a while so we can experience him for ourselves…

My morning routine was very normal yet it was very different…I didn’t even put on a tie, much less a robe.

I mingled during our Fellowship Time, shaking hands, exchanging hugs, and waiting for my wife and daughter to arrive. I didn’t give out any instructions…I didn’t answer any last minute questions…I didn’t even join the leaders of the service in the conference room to pray. I simply grabbed a bulletin and sat in the back of the room (I had to sit in the back to see why it’s so appealing to everyone).

From there, all I had to do was be present…to enjoy worshipping alongside my family and friends. I haven’t been able to do that in a long time. Too long, in fact.

I didn’t lead anything that I normally do…no announcements, no prayer, no sermon, no communion meditation, no invitation or benediction. No, I had the honor of watching our "laity" do all those things…and do them incredible well, I might add. From beginning to end, those involved gave me a greater understanding of Christian unity in a way that was as meaningful to me as it was personal to them. From my perspective, Lay Sunday at my church was a tremendous success.

Yet, as I sit in my office on Monday morning, reflecting on the service once again, I’m wondering if we managed to misname that wonderful Sunday. Just the terms “lay” and “laity” are problematic. They suggest that there is a distinction between them and me…that because I have a vocational call on my life and have a seminary degree, somehow I get a category all to myself. And while that might be true to some extent, we Disciples (and most Protestants) believe in the priesthood of all believers…or, that we are all in the same boat, with the same access to God and the same commitments as followers of Jesus. Even on a day where we talked about being ONE, we allowed artificial lines to creep in and define us.

The "lay people" at my church proved on Lay Sunday that they are anything but lay people…they are nothing short of ministers.

I know because they ministered to me…