Ministry – Waite for it…

How Technology Transformed My Ministry Experience

Posted on March 20, 2025 by William Douthwaite

Daily writing prompt

How has technology changed your job?

I’ve been retired for nearly three years now, but as a parish pastor, technology had a huge effect on how I did ministry in a local congregation.

When I started working in my first congregation in the mid-1980s, there were three ways to keep in touch with church members. You either sent a letter in the mail, called them on the phone, or knocked on their door.

By the time I retired in 2022, I had mastered many electronic ways to communicate with the church. While I still sent letters and made phone calls, I also sent email, text messages, messages through social media platforms, and broadcast an electronic newsletter each week. I never went to someone’s home without an appointment. People either weren’t home or just didn’t answer the door.

That being said, all that technology failed to silence the lament, “people don’t know what’s going on!” People just had more noise to ignore.

When I graduated from the seminary, I had a modest collection of books that I used for sermon and bible study preparation. That collection grew when I was at a church that gave me a generous annual book allowance. By the early 2000’s I found most of the information I needed on the internet, so I sold and gave away most of my printed books.

The Covid pandemic closed down in person worship services for our congregation. We were forced to learn how to broadcast worship from an empty church to members’ homes. I started with an iPhone propped up on some hymnals, moved up to my laptop balanced on a stack of bibles, until we invested in some digital camera technology. It was only a few weeks before we resumed worship in the sanctuary, but once we started, we just couldn’t stop broadcasting weekly services. As a result, people watched from all over the world. Some viewers financially supported the ministry, folks I would never meet.

When it was time to choose the next pastor, the leadership was not limited to a written resume. The selection committee interviewed every candidate via Zoom. Every prospect had a collection of online sermons to listen to. The process demanded a lot of time and energy.

Technology has been a blessing for the church since not every generation embraces new technology. But it’s also been a blessing. The church is here to communicate good news, and technology has helped her do that in so many ways.

Ministry, sermon

Words you should never use in a sermon

Posted on March 20, 2024March 20, 2024 by William Douthwaite

I don’t remember the exact sermons in which I used these words. I only remember being called on the carpet for using these words.

You’re curious, aren’t you? You can relax. I doubt these words will shock you, not compared to the language you hear everyday on the air, in podcasts, or in movies.

I used the first phrase when I was speaking about anger. I said something like, “He was really pissed off.” I thought that was a familiar euphemism for being upset.

A few days later, a couple came by my office to talk to me. They were visibly upset and told me in no uncertain terms that they wouldn’t attend a church where bathroom humor was used in the pulpit. I had no idea what they were talking about until they explained to me their offense at the word pissed. I apologized and never used that word again in my preaching.

The second word I was called out on is slut. I must have been talking about one of the women in the bible with a “reputation” and referred to her as a slut. One couple in attendance couldn’t believe I had exposed their teenage granddaughter to such language. Having worked with youth for many years, I’ll bet she had a much broader vocabulary than her grandparents realized. But I apologized and never did use that word again in my preaching.

Of course, there are many other words a preacher should never use in a sermon. But those are the only two times I was challenged. I apologize for the click-bait title. You’re probably pissed off you didn’t get to read about something a little juicier than “slut.”

I figure I preached 2,000 sermons in thirty-six years of ministry. At around 2,000 words per sermon, that would total four million words from the pulpit. Two bad words? That’s not too bad.

Ministry, pastor, retirement

Just a regular guy

Posted on March 7, 2024 by William Douthwaite

Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-in-white-shirt-and-green-pants-4066296/

Somehow I managed to fly under the radar for about a year and a half. Rick was at my table at bible class last night, along with Dick, Michael, and Jay. The lesson that night, from John Stott’s book The Radical Disciple, was about nonconformity. Disciples of Jesus need regular reminders not to slip into ethical relativism (where the lines between right and wrong are blurred). Our standard is God’s Word.

I shared with the table that ninety-five percent of the weddings I’ve performed were for couples who were already living together. Counseling and marrying them was a step in the right direction.

Rick looked at me and said, “Wait a minute. You did weddings?”

“Sure, lots of them.”

He asked again, “Really? How could you do weddings?”

Dick, sitting to my left, chucked, “He was a pastor for twenty-six years just up the road before his retirement.”

Rick was incredulous. “You were a pastor? I thought you were just a regular guy!”

I assured Rick, “I am just a regular guy. That was my occupation for thirty-six years.”

Rick and I have been friends for about eighteen months. I guess my previous occupation just never came up. And that’s OK. I enjoy being a regular guy. It’s fun love flying under the radar.

Food, Ministry

Sometimes the kingdom of heaven really is like a banquet

Posted on February 26, 2024 by William Douthwaite

While walking the dogs the other day (we take them out about twice a day), my mind wandered to some of the meals I ate while visiting new members and homebound folks. Coffee and cookies were pretty common. Sometimes good. Sometimes not. Sometimes out of a package. Sometimes homemade.

And sometimes I got a meal. Kathy was one I visited many times, while she was taking care of her father at home and then later when she couldn’t get out and around. But she could cook.

On one occasion, I had a vicar (pastoral intern) in tow when we went to visit her at lunch time. She roasted two whole chickens for us. These were surrounded by mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, and rolls. All this was followed by a Klondike bar for dessert. She always had six or seven varieties of Kondike bars in her freezer. That’s why you couldn’t find many in the store. It was enough food for a dozen people.

Pastoral ministry tip: just take a little bit of everything. Pace yourself. When pressured to get seconds, take even smaller spoonfuls. And, of course, leave room for dessert.

The day would come when Kathy couldn’t prepare meals for me. So she would have me take her out for lunch. We hit Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Alfie’s (on the beach in Ormond Beach, FL), TGI Fridays. She always paid, even though she was living off an impossibly small monthly income. She never ate much, but took home leftovers for the rest of the week. She also took home all the packs of butter on the table to go with the rolls.

When Kathy couldn’t physically get in and out of my car, she would have me stop and bring lunch. Her favorite was Chinese take out. While I would get General Tso’s chicken and fried rice, she would always request a large container of egg drop soup. When I arrived, she would drop a whole stick of butter into the soup container, and stir it until it all melted. I know, I little rich for me, too.

She also got meals on wheels each week. I got to try one of those meals. The microwavable meal was some kind of meat (the label didn’t specify), green beans, mashed turnips, and a roll. As I ate the meal she graciously shared with me, I remembered that I had eaten goat in Haiti, and banana soup and ugali in Kenya. I’ll live.

When she could no longer cook, Kathy offered me a pork roast out of the bottom of her freezer, underneath all the Klondike bars. When I asked how long it had been in there, she said, “I think it’s from last year.” It was over a year old.

That I said, “No thank you.” I wasn’t sure I’d live through that. One needs both faith and wisdom to survive in this world.

Another member I went to visit, S., had grown up in Cambodia. She escaped in the 1980’s, found refuge through a church in Michigan, and there met her husband. For my visit, she prepared enough food for twenty people. She deep fried two-dozen homemade spring rolls over a small backyard burner. To this she added multiple vegetable, noodle, and sesame seed side dishes. All for me. She didn’t even eat. She just watched me. I brought home a nice container of leftovers from her house.

And then there are many visits to ninety-eight year old B., who lived with her daughter, B2. Before Covid, B. would be awake most of the night and sleep late into the day, so she didn’t make church very often. It was a three-hour event when I came to visit. B2 always prepared a wonderful meal. I had chicken parmesan, tilapia, short ribs, meat loaf, pork loin chops. The sides were all kinds of vegetables, potatoes, rice, and bread. And of course, a dessert, most often some kind of cake or pie, with a scoop of ice cream. B. and B2. had lived in Bolivia back in the seventies, and had an arsenal of South American cuisine to draw from. Yes, it was always delicious. But it was also enough food for eight to ten people. I never had to worry about supper on the days I went to visit this family.

Every once in a great while, I would visit a family who offered me a beer. One such family thought I was German, so I had a choice of six imports that day. I only had one, since I still had to work that day and I also had to drive home.

P. who was a non-drinker, had the most extensive selection of beer and liquor in town. Whenever I visited him after his wife died, he always offered me a “bump and boost.” I think he meant a shot and a beer.

For me, the coffee (strong and black, please) was the best part. Caffeine is an essential part of an afternoon visit, if you catch my drift.

If I think of more snack and meal reviews from my time in ministry, I’ll be back to write a sequel.

Ministry, Moments of grace

A room, a meal, and a trip home

Posted on February 17, 2024 by William Douthwaite

As I was paging through an old journal today, I came across this story from July 20, 2017. I don’t actually remember this day, but I’m glad I took the time to write it down.

Wayne called the church about 10:30 am, wanting to talk to the pastor. I took the call, kind of knowing what to expect. He spent the next ten minutes unfolding his story.

Wayne was from West Hollywood, California. He had just take a train to visit his family in Marathon, Florida. A couple of hospital stays had used up the money for a return trip ticket. Little by little, he had made his way up I-95 to the Econolodge in Palm Coast. A friend had bought him a train ticket home, and he would be leaving tomorrow from Jacksonville. All he needed was one more night at the motel and a little money for food, and he would be on his way.

Wayne assured me that he was a Christian. In fact he was helping to plan an LCMS (Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod) congregation in California. That’s why he called our church and asked to speak to me. I told him I could help him out, and would meet him in at the motel in about an hour.

We sat and talked in the lobby for while, as he added more to his story. He had a home in California, as well as a care-giver. He had AIDS and was on forty-two different kinds of medication. His personal physician said he only had four or five months left. So he planned on using that time to witness.

Was his story true? Was any part of it true? I have no idea. I just helped him out. I paid for one more night at the motel, gave him fifty bucks for food, and prayed for him and his ministry.

In years past I might have asked more questions. But I learned not to overthink it, and just help as best as I could. I wanted to tell them, “You don’t have to tell me the whole story. All you have to do is ask. I’ll help.” But maybe they wanted to talk, tell their story, and be heard. When someone is listening, you are somebody.

Jesus was good at this, wasn’t he? He didn’t just heal people. He talked with them. “What’s going on? How can I help you? What do you need? How come you’re lying here? Let’s go back to your place.”

It’s good to remember that even though he knows what’s on your mind and in your heart, he still likes to hear your story, too.

death, Ministry

He’s dead.

Posted on February 1, 2024February 1, 2024 by William Douthwaite

I glanced at my buzzing phone on a Tuesday night and saw that one of my elders was calling.

“Hello, Pastor. I have bad news. I was making my regular monthly calls and found out that B. died last week.”

I’m not often blind-sided, but that news caught me off guard. “What? What happened?”

“I was just talking to M. and I asked how her husband was doing and she said, ‘He’s dead.’ He passed a week ago. I know, I was shocked, too. He had complications after open heart surgery. I wanted to be sure you knew.”

“Thanks. I’ll get in touch with her.”

I called her right away. I said I was so sorry to hear the news about B. She explained that he came through the bypass surgery just fine, but had problems after he came home. It was probably a blood clot, followed by liver and kidney failure, and then death. He didn’t want any kind of service, but the family might do something in a few months when everyone could get together.

On the following Thursday morning, at a men’s bible study, I let the group know what happened so we could pray for the widow and her family. A retired pastor who is a part of our group and knew her said, “I spent an hour and a half on the phone with her yesterday. She said they are having a service on next week and asked me to do the memorial. I told her, ‘Why don’t you ask Pastor Bill?’ She explained, “We don’t go to that church anymore.'”

I was puzzled. Didn’t I just see them in church a few months ago? Okay, they were one of the Covid-cautious members who I didn’t see often. But I had spoken to them regularly over the past two years. In fact we had a great conversation the last time we talked.

I learned a long time ago not to take something like this personally. She was grieving to be sure. People deal with death in many different ways. M. also hadn’t reached out in any way when her husband had surgery, was recovering, had problems, or was dying. If you let me know, I go. I go to the hospital, to your home, to hospice, wherever. But you have to let me know.

As I learned from experience, those who show up in your congregation from another church will eventually disappear. It might be months. It might be years. But they will move on.

I want to say this didn’t bother me, but here I am writing about it three years later. I’ve had it in my drafts for a while, wondering if this was a story worth telling. Someone once told me that our ordinary moments will fascinate others. Maybe this is one of those moments.

Ministry, youth

A few youth ministry memories (from way back)

Posted on January 19, 2024 by William Douthwaite

When I was growing up, our family was always involved in the church. My parents were involved in teaching and leadership, and as soon as we were old enough, my brother, sister and I were involved in the youth ministry.

Youth ministry looked a lot different in the early 1970’s. The high school youth group was called the Walther League. The Junior League was for those in Junior High School, which was grades 7 through 9 in our community. I don’t remember much about Junior League, except that we could wait to be old enough for Walther League.

Walther League was run entirely by the youth. There were a couple of adults there to make sure we didn’t break anything in the church and provide transportation. Other than that, they watched us have our meetings. We elected a president, vice-president, secretary and treasurer. The president ran the bi-monthly meetings, the secretary wrote down minutes in a notebook, and the treasurer kept a little lock box with our cash in it. Meetings consisted of reading a devotion from a devotional magazine, reading last meeting’s minutes, hearing how much money we had, ate a snack, played a game, and decided what else we wanted to do.

The only activities I remember were going to play miniature golf, going to a movie, going out for ice cream, and raising money to play miniature golf, go to a movie, and buy ice cream. The church gave us half of the Sunday morning coffee and donut money if we helped serve and clean up. We collected newspapers which we could take to a dump and sell for $2.00 a ton. My dad actually let me weigh down the family station wagon for trips to south Philadelphia to make a couple of bucks. I don’t think we ever accumulated more than twenty dollars, but that’s all we needed.

Not everyone in our group was allowed to go see the 1969 movie “True Grit” starring John Wayne. The film included some gunfights and the dialogue included a few obscenities (“Son of a b****”). I know, sounds mild compared to what’s on TV and in films now, but at the time, it was a big deal.

I don’t remember what else we did. By the time I was out of college and involved in youth ministry, much had changed. The leaders did the programming and teaching, and the youth came to be fed and entertained. In fact, parents expected the church to feed and entertain their children to keep them out of trouble. This became harder and harder to do since the world offers much more and better entertainment on TV, devices, and the internet.

I believe the best youth ministry happens when we give our young people something to do. They couldn’t wait to take on leadership responsibility during Vacation Bible School. Summer mission trips were times of spiritual growth. They benefitted by the experience of being part of the body of Christ, hearing and learning, going and telling.

2014 summer mission trip to Chattanooga, TN

memories, Ministry

Visiting: Not as easy as it looks

Posted on October 1, 2023October 1, 2023 by William Douthwaite

I wish I had kept count of how many people I visited in hospitals and nursing homes as a pastor. Very few weeks went by that I didn’t have someone to go see.

Some of those visits were very hard to make. I had to jump through a lot of hoops just to get in a building or room.

Like Ray, who was in a nursing home during the pandemic. When the doors finally opened for visitors again, I had to call and make an appointment to come and see him. One visitor per day. Period. When I arrived, I had to take a Covid-19 test. Once that read negative, they took my temperature and had me complete a health questionnaire. A nurse took me into a bathroom to show me how to and then watch me wash my hands properly. And this was for an outdoors visit. I sat at one end of a folding table set up in the front yard of the facility, wearing my mask, while Ray was wheeled out to sit at the other end. Conversing from eight feet away was okay, as long as there wasn’t too much traffic on the road. I confess, when I thought no one was looking, I snuck over and gave him Holy Communion.

Or Wyatt, born at the twenty-sixth week of mom’s pregnancy. I had to scrub in like a surgeon before I went into the neonatal intensive care unit with his mother. I was covered with gown, cap, booties, gloves, and a mask. He was covered with all kinds of wires and tubes. But I got to hold and pray over a little guy who came into the world three months before his birthday. When I saw him last year, he was a handsome thirteen year old young man.

I’ve only made a couple of visits to the jail. First, the person had to put my name on a list as an approved visitor. Then I had to make an appointment on his only weekly visitation day. Upon arriving, I had to put my belt, ring, watch, wallet, and keys in a special locker assigned to me. All that just so I could sit on the other side of thick glass window and speak to someone over a telephone handset for ten minutes.

Another visit during the Covid-19 pandemic was to Mark, hospitalized and in bad shape. He was in a room in a dedicated Covid wing. He could only have one visitor per day at a designated time. His wife surrendered her usual visit so I could go and see him. This visit required I sign a waver that I understood the risks I was taking. I then dressed in a sterile gown, cap, booties, gloves, mask, and protective goggles. I had to pass through two special sets of doors before I got to the hallway where his room was. After the visit, I had to take off all my protective gear in a special area before leaving that isolation wing.

Every visit was interesting, nerve-wracking, and educational. I left each place with a greater appreciation for health-care workers, prison guards, medical technology – and Jesus. After all, this is the exactly world he stepped into so he could be with, love, and save us.

Life, Ministry

Watch your step

Posted on March 10, 2023March 10, 2023 by William Douthwaite

I read these words in my morning devotions: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise” (Ephesians 5:15). In that moment, I flashed back to playing soccer in Kenya.

My wife and I went with a medical mission team to Kenya in 2013. As a nurse practitioner, she worked clinics at churches in the Kisii region with other doctors and nurses. I went as chaplain, encouraging the team, helping out as needed, and talking through translators to the many adults and children who came to the clinic each day.

One afternoon I joined a large group of children playing soccer in a field behind the clinic location. Their ball was made from duct tape wrapped around old plastic bags they had scrounged out of the garbage. The goals were a couple of tree branches sunk into the ground ten feet apart. The soccer field was a cow pasture, complete with cattle.

Yes, every moment of the game, you had walk, run, and kick very carefully. I was a moderately successful goalie, only dirtying up my shoes a bit. As we played, the group of children, of all all ages, grew and grew. No translators were needed. The game of soccer is like an international language.

Life is like that. In a world filled with dishonesty, greed, anger, immorality, and violence, you have to watch your step. Before you know it, you’re a mess. You’ve been deceived, you’re unhappy, you lash out in anger, and you hurt the people around you.

Messy people find forgiveness in Christ and a different path in life. We can walk (live) with integrity, generosity, encouragement, and kindness bringing light into a dark world.

So watch your step. Check your shoes. Yes, you need God’s grace. Then daily follow in his footsteps, the path of life.

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