That is a little like how it has felt over the past month. Starting the new call at the Lutheran University Center. Getting here, getting situated, getting oriented, getting moved out (of my old office) and moved in (to my new office)... all of it has been a little crazy. Throw in organizing my installation, a grand and lovely event thanks to the efforts of many others, as well as family transition issues... it is no wonder my output on my blog and podcast has dropped. I have even wondered about closing down this blog and starting a new one since I am no longer a pastor of a congregation. But I think I will leave its name alone.
I am hoping that my writing continues and picks up as things reach a steady state, or at least as steady as they can in campus ministry.
Monday, February 06, 2012
Monday, January 02, 2012
Ministry and Incarnation
The past month has been incredibly hectic. As I wrote a few weeks ago, I am starting a new call. December was busier as I tried to get everything in order before I had finished as pastor. As if getting ready for Christmas wasn't enough, I also was making sure the parish record was in order and all that sort of stuff. Then there were the people who really wanted me to do one or another pastoral task before I left...
So during December, I had three baptisms and five First Communions... not to mention two memorial services. Granted those folks didn't arrange this task with me when I announced I was leaving... but it was just extra stuff. At any rate, I do not think I have had such a cramped month in my eight plus years serving St. Paul.
There was a part of me that wondered if I was doing something wrong by acquiescing to these requests. After all, there was no need to rush. A perfectly competent pastor would be serving as an interim after I left. There was nothing special about me doing it. Performing the baptisms or instructing the First Communicants did not require me. There was a part of me that worried about creating inappropriate expectations about pastors.
But then my last Sunday came. That Sunday was Christmas day. I was emotional from the get-go. I climbed into the pulpit to set up my recorder and manuscript. As I went up the steps, I realized that this day was the last day I would climb into the pulpit as pastor. During the announcements, when I asked the small crowd to bear with me if I got emotional, I teared up. Once the liturgy got going I was fine. While there are many who decry the liturgy, I find great comfort in it. This day the familiarity acted like a friend walking with me through grief. I didn't shed one tear as I preached and we sang and prayed together. Until we came to the Eucharist, of course. There I saw the families whom I would not commune again as pastor. I would not stand again behind that rail to proclaim gracious gospel words "The Body of Christ given for you." When it came time for me to commune with the worship assistant and acolytes, tears could not be held back any longer. I sobbed.
Body and blood met me graciously. I wanted to do nothing but cling to them as long as I could, knowing the service would all too soon after that meal. And at some point my mind, in its emotional state, made a connection between the incarnation and ministry. God the Father didn't just use an ephemeral spirit when humanity needed saving. God sent Jesus to dwell in flesh, to live with us as one of us. God doesn't use some disembodied persona to serve congregations either. As imperfect as we are, pastors are flesh and blood creatures who form deep and abiding relationships with the people in our congregations.
Pastoral ministry is inherently incarnational. The people whom I served wanted me to do those last few pastoral tasks not because I was somehow special. They wanted me to do those tasks, baptizing and communing them because I was a particular embodiment of the gospel for them. I was the one they had to come to know who spoke the gospel. It was not mere sentimentality that had them wanting me to do these things before I left. The pastor builds a relationship with the people over the years of service, and this relationship is rooted in the relationship that Christ forms with us in the incarnation.
While it was a challenge for me, and no service would have been easy as my last, I found that Christmas was an incredibly appropriate day as my last. I am thankful for my time at St. Paul and the relationships we shared there. I am also thankful for the relationship begun in and by Christ that is an embodied relationship because he was incarnate.
So during December, I had three baptisms and five First Communions... not to mention two memorial services. Granted those folks didn't arrange this task with me when I announced I was leaving... but it was just extra stuff. At any rate, I do not think I have had such a cramped month in my eight plus years serving St. Paul.
There was a part of me that wondered if I was doing something wrong by acquiescing to these requests. After all, there was no need to rush. A perfectly competent pastor would be serving as an interim after I left. There was nothing special about me doing it. Performing the baptisms or instructing the First Communicants did not require me. There was a part of me that worried about creating inappropriate expectations about pastors.
But then my last Sunday came. That Sunday was Christmas day. I was emotional from the get-go. I climbed into the pulpit to set up my recorder and manuscript. As I went up the steps, I realized that this day was the last day I would climb into the pulpit as pastor. During the announcements, when I asked the small crowd to bear with me if I got emotional, I teared up. Once the liturgy got going I was fine. While there are many who decry the liturgy, I find great comfort in it. This day the familiarity acted like a friend walking with me through grief. I didn't shed one tear as I preached and we sang and prayed together. Until we came to the Eucharist, of course. There I saw the families whom I would not commune again as pastor. I would not stand again behind that rail to proclaim gracious gospel words "The Body of Christ given for you." When it came time for me to commune with the worship assistant and acolytes, tears could not be held back any longer. I sobbed.
Body and blood met me graciously. I wanted to do nothing but cling to them as long as I could, knowing the service would all too soon after that meal. And at some point my mind, in its emotional state, made a connection between the incarnation and ministry. God the Father didn't just use an ephemeral spirit when humanity needed saving. God sent Jesus to dwell in flesh, to live with us as one of us. God doesn't use some disembodied persona to serve congregations either. As imperfect as we are, pastors are flesh and blood creatures who form deep and abiding relationships with the people in our congregations.
Pastoral ministry is inherently incarnational. The people whom I served wanted me to do those last few pastoral tasks not because I was somehow special. They wanted me to do those tasks, baptizing and communing them because I was a particular embodiment of the gospel for them. I was the one they had to come to know who spoke the gospel. It was not mere sentimentality that had them wanting me to do these things before I left. The pastor builds a relationship with the people over the years of service, and this relationship is rooted in the relationship that Christ forms with us in the incarnation.
While it was a challenge for me, and no service would have been easy as my last, I found that Christmas was an incredibly appropriate day as my last. I am thankful for my time at St. Paul and the relationships we shared there. I am also thankful for the relationship begun in and by Christ that is an embodied relationship because he was incarnate.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The Decorated Pastor... like a gingerbread house
Unfortunately I forgot my recorder yesterday so I did not get my sermon recorded, but something else happened. The leader of the youth group asked if I would come to the meeting since it would be my last opportunity. I agreed and then she told me to wear something I wouldn't mind getting messy. I was thinking paint, maybe a pie in the face. Nope.
I have heard of people who were decorated. People of distinction in various arenas. Now I can say that I too have been decorated. The youth group decorated me like a big gingerbread house. As a farewell, I am pretty sure it will be one of, if not the most memorable farewell. The youth had a blast. I am sure they will remember it for much of their lives. After all, it isn't every night when they get to cover their pastor's face in icing. (NOTE: in the event that you think this might be something you'd like to do, a word of caution... After a few minutes, my eyes were starting to be irritated by the icing. A little burn was developing. Buy a cheap pair of swim goggles and decorate around/over them.)
Here are a couple of videos that were taken. In the first one, the youth were trying to erect the gingerbread house on my face. In the second, they had given up and just went to smearing my face and hair with icing and candy decoration.
After I went and cleaned up from this, they also sat down with me to give me a book of photos and comments. In the end, I cried. A wonderful evening with them.
I have heard of people who were decorated. People of distinction in various arenas. Now I can say that I too have been decorated. The youth group decorated me like a big gingerbread house. As a farewell, I am pretty sure it will be one of, if not the most memorable farewell. The youth had a blast. I am sure they will remember it for much of their lives. After all, it isn't every night when they get to cover their pastor's face in icing. (NOTE: in the event that you think this might be something you'd like to do, a word of caution... After a few minutes, my eyes were starting to be irritated by the icing. A little burn was developing. Buy a cheap pair of swim goggles and decorate around/over them.)
Here are a couple of videos that were taken. In the first one, the youth were trying to erect the gingerbread house on my face. In the second, they had given up and just went to smearing my face and hair with icing and candy decoration.
After I went and cleaned up from this, they also sat down with me to give me a book of photos and comments. In the end, I cried. A wonderful evening with them.
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Smashing Ice with Rob Bell
Back on Nov. 25, I saw Rob Bell in Pittsburgh for his "Fit to Smash
Ice" Tour. I had seen some of his stuff online and on DVD. I had never
read any of his books, although Love Wins is sitting on my shelf
in my reading queue. I went partly to experience him live and continue
to feel out what his draw is. I wanted to see what his delivery was
like and what sort of people came out to see him. I am not a fan per
se, but I do think he gets some things brilliantly right even though he
gets some things just as wrong. And here he was in Pittsburgh on the
night after Thanksgiving when I would be at my parents' house just north
of Pittsburgh. My wife and I could attend and we would have free
babysitting. So we went.
The crowd was small compared to the hall we were in. The Carnegie Library Music Hall in Munhall, PA is a medium-size hall, but the crowd only filled about half of the lower level. Mostly everyone was young and white, although a few older couples were there... older even than my wife and I. It seemed like a church group was in attendance since one couple (coincidentally the only African-American couple, I think) walked in close to the beginning and half of the people in front of us all waved and greeted them. A group of four young folk in the row in front of me had note paper out. One young man had even separated his paper into three areas: inspire, offend, confuse. The young woman next to him just wrote almost constantly during the time.
The crowd was small compared to the hall we were in. The Carnegie Library Music Hall in Munhall, PA is a medium-size hall, but the crowd only filled about half of the lower level. Mostly everyone was young and white, although a few older couples were there... older even than my wife and I. It seemed like a church group was in attendance since one couple (coincidentally the only African-American couple, I think) walked in close to the beginning and half of the people in front of us all waved and greeted them. A group of four young folk in the row in front of me had note paper out. One young man had even separated his paper into three areas: inspire, offend, confuse. The young woman next to him just wrote almost constantly during the time.
Monday, December 05, 2011
2nd Sunday of Advent -- Good Beginnings
Reading:
Mark 1:1-8
We read the beginning of Mark's gospel as he sets the stage for the story of Jesus, who is himself the good news.
An excerpt:
This story is meant from its outset to pull its readers and listeners into it… The story is clearly bigger than itself. We might mistake the opening verse as nothing more than an introductory verse if we translate it as “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” We are so familiar with “gospel” as a literary genre, we might forget that at its heart the word means “good news.” And we need to get rid of the “about Jesus Christ.” Those six Greek words require some interpretation… but to pull us into the story, the good news can’t just be “about” Jesus the Messiah. And one way to interpret and translate those words is to read it “The good news who IS Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” The good news is precisely Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God is on the scene.
Read it here.
Or listen to it.
Thursday, December 01, 2011
1st Sunday of Advent -- Apocalypse and Revelation
Reading:
Mark 13: 24-37
Advent is a season to ponder Christ's return in glory. No longer hidden, Christ's glory will be revealed for all to see.
Unfortunately I had no manuscript for this sermon. I just went off of some notes, so here it is to listen to.
Mark 13: 24-37
Advent is a season to ponder Christ's return in glory. No longer hidden, Christ's glory will be revealed for all to see.
Unfortunately I had no manuscript for this sermon. I just went off of some notes, so here it is to listen to.
Scooby-Doo, Monsters and Real Life
A friend of mine, Ralph Hanson, shared a link on Facebook to an incredibly interesting column over at the Comics Alliance. In the column, Chris Sims answers questions weekly. Last Friday he was asked, "Q: On Scooby-Doo, do you prefer the monsters to be real or people in costumes? -- @heythisisbrian"
Chris' answer is fascinatingly brilliant. In short, he says that the monsters on Scooby-Doo must be people masquerading as monsters because the world is full of bad people who lie to kids using superstition to scare them. Scooby Doo teaches them that the best thing to do in the face of fear from superstition is to think.
Chris' answer is fascinatingly brilliant. In short, he says that the monsters on Scooby-Doo must be people masquerading as monsters because the world is full of bad people who lie to kids using superstition to scare them. Scooby Doo teaches them that the best thing to do in the face of fear from superstition is to think.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Nativity Sets: The good, the bad, the kitschy
Ok... no good ones... but over at Mark Oestreicher's blog, he posted his list of the 27 worst nativity sets he has found. They are amazingly bad.
One person's comments showed a Star Wars nativity set... it is fantastic. Wrong but fantastic.
The bacon/sausage one is clearly my favorite.
One person's comments showed a Star Wars nativity set... it is fantastic. Wrong but fantastic.
The bacon/sausage one is clearly my favorite.
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