In the current issue of the Lutheran Witness, there is an article about private confession and absolution. This practice is probably unfamiliar to many of the readers of my blog. Why would you need to do it privately? Don’t we do it every Sunday in church, publicly? Isn’t that a Roman Catholic practice? Who would do that anyway? Most Lutherans probably don’t realize it’s something that is available to you with your pastor. As a called and ordained servant of the Lord, I have the responsibility and authority to tell you that you are forgiven when sin and guilt and Satan just won’t leave you alone. When I can look you in the eye, remind you of what Jesus suffered and died for on the cross, and tell you you’re free from your sin, it is a powerful and liberating moment. And just so you know, I have had people come to me for this very reason. Old and young, teens and octogenarians. No matter where you are in life, it is a precious gift from our Lord.
My wife is going to Haiti (part 2)
Actually she’s there. Rev. Glenn Merritt, who heads disaster response for LCMS World Relief, said in a recent Lutheran Witness article that it is too unstable and dangerous for any volunteers apart from medical teams. That is the situation my wife has stepped into with great excitement and a little fear (mostly from reports about tarantula spiders she may see there). Lisa landed there a few hours ago (as I wrote this), and as I think about her next 9 days there, I realize God’s been preparing her for this her whole life. Just consider her experience: a vicarage in inner city Baltimore, a social worker job there, labor and delivery experience, working for an urgent care provider in Daytona Beach. Eventually she’d end up somewhere like this “for just a time as this.” You can read some about it here. The amazing thing is, who would have ever seen this coming? When Lisa was going to nursing school in Ft. Wayne, the University of Connecticut, Grandview College in Des Moines, Iowa, and Graceland University headquartered in Lamoni, Iowa, who would have imagined God was preparing her for an assignment in Haiti? Not me. We didn’t even hardly know where Haiti was until today. But I’m sure we’ll never forget.
I talked with Lisa some this afternoon. It is hot there, in the 90’s. They saw about 100 patients today. In the midst of all this they are trying to get the pharmacy organized. After only drinking some lukewarm water, she said a cold Coke was probably the best she’s ever tasted. And she’s glad she went with Lutherans. The leaders went out to get some beer and wine for tonight. Tomorrow they will go to church. I’m not sure if the clinic is open tomorrow.
On a sad note, the men who founded the Lutheran church in Haiti, Pastor Doris Jean Louis was killed last night. He was accosted outside of his home and beaten. He studied at the sem in Ft. Wayne in the late 70’s – early 80’s, and was a blessing to so many.
Huh?
At Adam’s first homiletics (preaching) class this semester, the professor, Dr. Dale Meyer, said, “Just because you said it doesn’t mean they heard it.” That’s a good thing to keep in mind. Communication seems simple enough. Preach the word, and watch the Holy Spirit work, right? Well, kind of. Jesus told that story about the different kinds of soil. Sometimes the word takes root and changes lives. But not always. Rock, weeks, birds, and whatever get in the way. Even for Jesus.
It reminds me a little of watching a movie or some TV, when someone leans over and says, “What did he say?” There’s a lot we hear that we don’t understand. We don’t understand what was said, or we don’t understand what the words mean, or we don’t understand what the speaker is talking about. I don’t understand everything I hear. I often ask, “What are you talking about?” Wouldn’t you like to ask me that question sometime? Feel free. You have my permission. How about if I leave my phone out on the pulpit and you can text me, “Huh?”
My wife’s going to Haiti (part 1)
Why not a journal of my wife’s upcoming trip to Haiti through the eyes of us who will say goodbye in just a few days and anxiously await her return from this medical mission trip? Lisa is going with 16 other doctors, nurses, practitioners, and pastors to work in a Port-au-Prince hospital and clinic with LCMS World Relief. Her nurse practitioner skills, honed over the past year in an urgent care office, will be very helpful to the many Haitians still in need of medical care after the January 12 earthquake. It’s hard to believe it’s been two months already.
After learning that she had been selected for this trip, the last two weeks have been a whirlwind of getting things together to go. From a few shots at the health department to some medical things to take along, the challenge has been to not take too much. All you’ve got is two small carry-ons for your own stuff. The big check-through suitcase is for medical supplies.
An exciting opportunity? Absolutely. Frightening? Oh, a little, especially when you starting reading about tropical diseases, looking at pictures of insects, and checking out the blogs of those who are there. The trip begins on Thursday with a drive to Miami, where she’ll meet the team.
It is so cool that she gets to go and do this. And it is equally cool that our church has gotten into sending people on trips like this with both financial and prayer support. It adds a whole new dimension to what we do.
All the time
Do you know what I forget sometimes? I forget that not everyone’s life revolves around the church. Conversely, I’ll bet a lot of people don’t even realize that most pastors’ live do. Revolve around the church, that is.
Here’s what I mean. An average member of the church who attends say twice a month, may only actually think about the church a couple of hours on those two days. That’s it. Another member of the church, who serves on a committee, is a member of a small group, are part of a music group or participates in a community ministry may think about church a couple of hours each week. Some in positions of leadership may spend as much as 3-4 hours a week with church responsibilities. If you have a job and a family, I wouldn’t expect much more.
Enter the pastor. I think about the church every day. I think about the church most of my waking hours. I’m not always doing church stuff, but even when I’m not, I’ve got sermon thoughts running around in my head, I’ve got people on my mind who I need to talk to or visit, and I’m always wondering how those in the hospital or recovering at home are doing.
I’m not saying this is bad. After all, it is my job and it’s not yours. I just think the extremes are interesting. There was a time when I wasn’t a pastor and wasn’t thinking about church all the time, but that was a long time ago. It’s hard to remember. And those outside the role (and the family) have no idea what it’s like to be immersed in it all the time.
Wouldn’t it be interesting (and probably healthy) to walk in each other’s shoes once in a while?
It takes time
It takes time. In my morning devotions I just began the gospel of Mark. Before this I was in Luke. What a contrast. While Luke takes his time getting through the birth of Christ and extensive teaching, Mark moves things along very quickly. In just three quick chapters of Mark, Jesus has attracted not only crowds of followers, but also plenty of opposition and they are already plotting to kill Jesus. After three chapters in Luke, Jesus is just getting warmed up for his public ministry.
In many ways, I think we come at the church and ministry from Mark’s perspective. We expect things to happen quickly. Whatever ideas, projects, and programs we implement, we look for quick results. This may not be true everywhere, but in my experience, it takes quite a while to see things develop in the church. In our own congregation it has taken many years to move from talking about missions to actually going and doing mission work. It’s taken many years to develop some of our music programs, community involvement, and teachers for classes.
So I’ve learned that you can’t force these things to happen. You can’t rush them. And all those months when it seemed like absolutely nothing was happening, something was happening. God was working to prepare his people for ministry. Note to self: when it seems like not much is happening, relax. There’s actually a whole lot going on.
Looking for my voice
Looking for my voice. Today I barely croaked out the second sermon as the laryngitis I knew was coming mercilessly set in. As early as Friday I knew it would be a tough morning. I could feel a little soreness in my throat and I just had a feeling that Sunday morning would be a challenge. Saturday morning didn’t start out too badly, but as the day wore one my voice was strained and even though I drank gallons (at least it seemed like that much) of water, I knew Sunday would be a struggle. Sure enough, I woke up with a sandpapery voice that got a little better after a hot shower. I didn’t sing any songs and really took it easy the first service, but I wasn’t at 100%. Fortunately, this is the service we record and post online. Bible class wasn’t too bad, but at the beginning of our second worship service, I knew it would be tough. I did get through the second sermon, but had to ask one of my elders to finish up the end of the service for me.
About 18 years ago, I was singing with a choir in another church and developed a really serious case of laryngitis. Ever since that time, a cold or some pine pollen or any throat irritation can set it off. It’s kind of like my Achilles’ heel, which as you might imagine isn’t good for a preacher. It happens about two times a year, and there’s really not much I can do about it. I had a sermon I was really looking forward to preaching, too. And since I don’t write out my whole sermon but kind of put together a storyboard, I couldn’t just pass off to an elder.
To tell you the thuth, I don’t like being vessel of clay (2 Cor 4). But these kind of days remind me I am, and that God just might be able to communicate through a guy who can only croak out a sermon.
How strong do you have to be?
About a week ago, I left early in the morning to meet someone at the hospital who was having surgery that day. As we sat down to talk and pray, she said, “I’m sorry for being such a wimp.” And I thought to myself, “Why do we feel like we must be strong all the time?” When you are about to have surgery and face some of the realities and unknowns of cancer, isn’t it OK to be scared, be weak, and cry? Of all times to feel vulnerable and mortal, this would seem to be one of the most appropriate.
Yet we don’t like to let on that we feel that way. It seems this is especially true of Christians. We’ve convinced ourselves that our faith means we will not be scared, we will not worry, and we will not feel weak. Even if we read numerous Psalms reminding us that God is our refuge and strength, we’d rather dig deep into our own resources rather than have to tap into his. It’s not easy to say that God is your strength and mean it, because it means you are weak, and probably a wimp, too. It’s OK to sing, “I am weak but he is strong” when you’re a kid, but not when you’re grown up.
The apostle Paul figured it out: “When I’m weak, then I’m strong.” Perhaps we need to learn how to be better wimps.
Making some noise
Yesterday in church, during the sermon, I challenged the congregation to make some noise. The lead is was that the praises of Revelation 4 and 5 aren’t polite golf claps, but deafening praise for our Creator and Savior. I had sent out an email on Saturday, telling them to be ready to make some noise and to even bring noise makers with them on Sunday. Since we are usually pretty reserved on Sunday mornings, I didn’t expect much. Boy was I wrong. They were primed and ready and just waiting for the command. They brought whistles, drums, and some healthy lungs with them. And when I called for some noise, they let loose, much more than I had anticipated. Our early service did well. Our second service is a little more traditional, but those folks did even better. You can hear it at at the very end of yesterday’s sermon. I wonder why we sometimes hold back our praise, as well as some of our other emotions. Why pretend we’re not sad, happy, or angry? I’m pretty proud of the way everyone responded yesterday. Nice job, folks!
Waite for it... 