Interesting stuff collected for future talks

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Live the faith, man!

Graham Cyster, a Christian whom I know from South Africa, recently told me a painful story about a personal experience two decades ago when he was struggling against apartheid as a young South African evangelical. One night, he was smuggled into an underground Communist cell of young people fighting apartheid. "Tell us about the gospel of Jesus Christ," they asked, half hoping for an alternative to the violent communist strategy they were embracing.

Graham gave a clear, powerful presentation of the gospel, showing how personal faith in Christ wonderfully transforms persons and creates one new body of believers where there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, rich nor poor, black nor white. The youth were fascinated. One seventeen-year-old exclaimed, "That is wonderful! Show me where I can see that happening." Graham's face fell as he sadly responded that he could not think of anywhere South African Christians were truly living out the message of the gospel. "Then the whole thing is a piece of sh—," the youth angrily retorted. Within a month he left the country to join the armed struggle against apartheid—and eventually giving his life for his beliefs.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Reminder

I'll never forget one preacher going on and on about his theories about some attribute(s) of God. After the service, one of the little grannies grabbed his hand and said, "Pastor, I don't come to church to hear about what you think about God - I come hear to hear what you hear from God, and HOW you HEARD it!"

Monday, March 21, 2005

Love is loving what they love

Have you ever seen an adult attending the funeral of a rabbit? Did the adult so love the pet rabbit that he just had to work through his grief in a process of closure? No, the average father would rather have eaten the rabbit (before it got sick), but when his little girl came to love the rabbit, Daddy loved what his sweetheart loved. He had no grief for the dead “hairball,” but he felt the loss his daughter felt, and so could grieve with her. Love is loving what they love

The story of Victor

Not very many years ago a young woman gave birth to her first child just one month after her husband died in a tragic accident. The neighbors, who were deeply concerned over the plight of the poor young widow, held a shower for the baby. Each person brought a beautiful present to help the mother and child get started in life.

Mrs. Binz, who lived across the street, brought a small crib. “All three of my children slept in that very bed,” she said proudly. “But it’s yours now.”

The neighbor to the south said, “I have managed to find all these baby clothes on sale. I think your child will like them.”

Some of the friends brought meat, potatoes, or other kinds of food for the pantry. When all of the gifts were opened, the mother wept. “Thank you for your wonderful support,” she said, brushing back her tears. “You have made a most difficult time much easier.” She paused before she concluded, “Next Sunday my son will be baptized. I have decided to name him Victor after his father.”

After all of the guests had left and the young widow was putting things away, she heard a knock on the door. She opened it to find an old man who lived in the corner house by himself. He was quite short in stature, wore glasses, and had tousled white hair. Everyone called him Doc Burns, though he didn’t seem to be a doctor in any normal sense. Few people had ever talked to the reclusive old man, though he often waved at the widow as she walked past his home.

“I have come to give you my gift for your young son,” he said softly. Mine is a different kind of gift than the others you have received. I have come to offer you one wish for young Victor. It may be anything that you want for him, but you must make the wish before the child is baptized on Sunday.” He paused a moment and then continued, “Please believe that I have the power to give you whatever you desire for your beautiful son.” Having concluded, the little man bowed and walked back to his house on the corner.

The young mother was baffled by the words of her strange little friend. Did he really have the power to grant a wish? What should she ask for? All week long she could not make up her mind. Finally, as they walked forward to the baptismal font, she whispered in the infants ear, “I wish that everyone in the world will love my Victor.” It was the greatest wish she could hope for her son.

And lo and behold, the wish came true. Victor grew up to be a handsome lad with jet black hair and gleaming white teeth. As a toddler, people could not resist hugging and touching him. Even when he was naughty, no one could believe that he had done anything wrong.

As he grew older, Victor became known and loved throughout the village. He was always given food and toys by other children. If his mother scolded or punished him, the adults would insist that she was being too harsh to such a wonderful child. Victor responded to all this attention by treating people with scorn and contempt. That didn’t seem to matter, for they still seemed to adore him.

As the years passed, even when Victor had trouble at home, he maintained a deep respect for Doc Burns; there was something almost mystical about him. He often visited the old man and listened to his advice carefully. Doc was the only person who could reprimand Victor without the boy becoming angry or sullen.

When Victor graduated from high school, he was given a scholarship to a college in the east. At Christmas, when he returned home for the first time, he drove up in a beautiful, black Cadillac. His suitcases were filled with fine clothes, and he always had plenty of spending money. He seldom saw his mother during the vacation. He spent his nights out drinking at parties and taverns.

After college, Victor never worked but continued to live a life of ease. “I collect horses, dogs, and women,” he often bragged. There was no pleasure he did not indulge in, and there was no vice he did not experience. None of his relationships were permanent. Even though his many girlfriends smothered him with attention and friends raved about him, his heart grew empty and his soul became sick. He despised the people who catered to him. He was disgusted with everything and everyone.

One night, alone in his apartment, Victor decided to end his life. He withdrew to his bedroom where he mixed a powerful poison in a glass of wine and lifted it to his lips. Just as he was about to drink it, Doc Burns rushed through the door and took the glass out of his hands, “Good evening. Victor. It has been a long time since we have had a chance to talk,” the old man said softly.

Victor asked to be left alone, but Doc Burns ignored his pleas. “You seem to be dissatisfied with your life of frivolity,” the old man said. “I am sorry it has been such a meaningless existence for you. I suppose I am the one responsible for your misery. I fulfilled your mothers wish on the day of your Baptism, even though it was a foolish one. Suppose I now offer you a new wish? Make it anything you want, and I will fulfill it. But be careful, Victor,” the old man concluded. “Wishes have a way of coming true.”

“I don’t think you can give me anything that I haven’t already had.” Victor said sadly.

“Think again, my son,” Doc Burns said earnestly, peering into the young man’s eyes. “Think of something that has given you true happiness in your short life. Make another wish for my sake, and for the sake of your dear mother.”

Victor closed his eyes and thought for several minutes. Finally he spoke through his tears, “Take away the old wish and give me a new one. Rather than being loved, I ask for the ability to love everyone in the world.”

“That is good,” Doc Burns said, embracing the sobbing young man. “Now things will go better for you.”

Things did go better for Victor, but not immediately. He began to notice that people did not admire him or faun over him as before. Without his great charm, he began to be abandoned by his friends. Several people retaliated for the past wrongs he had inflicted on them. Once, he was thrown into jail for three months, and no one even came to visit him. When he was released, he was sick, lonely, and penniless.

He returned home to nurse his ailing mother. For the first time in his life he was able to return her great love. After his mother’s recovery, Victor took a job as a janitor in an elementary school. He not only cleaned the floors and rest rooms, but he cared for the children as well—particularly the more disadvantaged ones. To all the children he became Mr. Victor, their father, friend and counselor.

In the course of the following year, he met a beautiful young widow who had two small children. They married, and he gave all three of them the love that they so desperately needed. Poor in money, Victor now felt that he was the richest man in all the world, for he had discovered that it is in loving, not being loved, that life offers its greatest fulfillment


Note: This parable, "The Story of Victor," is by William R. White from his book: Stories For Telling (Augsburg Publishing, Minneapolis, © 1986) pp. 37-41. His inspiration came from "Augustus," a story by Herman Hesse.

Monday, March 14, 2005

evr heard this...

http://www.joshhunt.com/preaching.html

I heard a lot of criticism about how-to preaching but never read it until now...

Sunday, March 13, 2005

Good advice on welcome people...

Tod struck again:
Bill Rice wrote the following comment:
Tod, I almost think that you need an intro to the whole discussion giving a greater context to the "Handshake and Entrance Rituals". That it is not a stand alone concept, but how it can be integrated into a larger effort to build a true community, especially for those who have not had the opportunity to attend a service at San Clemente Presbyterian. The paragraph from your book is helpful. For a greeting to be successful of any type in any church, there must be sincerity behind it. This means it needs to be modeled from the church leadership on down and practiced...
As you can tell, Bill goes to the church where I am the pastor. He is also a naturally friendly guy. But I will elaborate a bit on his point about the "entrance rituals" being part of a larger effort for sincere welcome in the community.
And our philosophy of welcoming people to our church is based on two principles. In a nutshell, it goes like this:
Official greeters, fellowship times and pastors don't count if "regular" people don't welcome a new person.
Official greeters, fellowship times and pastors create a "culture" of welcome for "regular people" to more readily extend themselves.
Most every church study shows that when a new person comes to a church, they don't really consider the church friendly unless they are greeted and welcomed by "regular" people. That is, there must be a sincere attitude of extending oneself in welcome by the people in the pew and not just the "hired" or "official" greeters. If only pastors greet them, they'll say the church is not friendly. But if a regular person invites them to have a simple cup of coffee after the service, they'll say it's the friendliest place in town.
BUT, I truly believe that what is modeled by every volunteer in the parking lot, at the door, every usher, every pastor and staff person and through the time set aside in our service is that we value EVERY person extending themselves to every other person. So, before we do anything else in the service, we stand, cross the aisles, walk around the sanctuary and greet the people around us. We don't think this "1 minute official greeting time" is the end of our hospitality, but tilling the soil for a culture of welcome.
So, tomorrow at church, extend a hand and welcome a new face, whether you have a greeters ribbon on you or not. Next post, what the "Passing of the Peace" is meant to be (and how it's not a welcome ritual).
Saturday, March 12, 2005 in Church Musings Permalink
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Comments
In each Elders meeting I'm asking "Who met a new person this month?" It does help to put that in front of those who should be setting the pace.
Posted by: Peter Bogert March 12, 2005 08:18 AM
Wow! You don't know how profound and right on your comments are about greeting ritual, friendly regular folks and the different impact they make. Actually obviously you do know!! What's so amazing is why most churches/members can't see the difference.
I am a "community chaplain" in an area where there are many churches of my faith. So I have taken many of the people I work with who are reaching out to Christ (read that lonely; drug addicted; handicapped; single parents; at-risk teenagers...) to a church selected because it is near their home to visit. In all of the churches, it has been nearly impossible to find peope who are willing to invest ANY time or effort or interest or friendliness beyond that required by their church job--ie greeter, Children's teacher, musician, deacon etc. Sort of like WalMart workers...
To go a step beyond, --perhaps as even our MINISTRY becomes ritualized, the youth can see our hypocricy quicker than we can. I worry about the youth...
In one Church I began bringing 8 or 10 teenagers to a church--shaved heads, tatoos, tongue jewelry etc and a couple "thoroughly respectible" kids. Neither they nor I knew a soul. No one and I mean not one person greeted or spoke to them. The next week I saw a friendly appearing man across the aisle from me. "AHA!" I thought. I wrote a note telling him about the kids and asking him if he would talk to them after church. He was wonderful. He welomed them, engaged them in conversation, made them smile. Wow, I thought, this church is friendly after all! As the kids were walking out, I thanked the man and asked how long he had been in that congregation. His reply brought us both a moment of bitter-sweet delight. "This is my first time, he said. "I'm a visitor too!"
Keep up the good work. Education, inspiration, training--I think they're all part of the answer.
Posted by: Judy Burton March 12, 2005 08:21 AM
"But if a regular person invites them to have a simple cup of coffee after the service, they'll say it's the friendliest place in town." Aha! So if the church provides the coffee in the narthax (along with donuts or pie -- maybe AND pie) it's easier for regulars to mingle. So there is a role for rolls.
Still, leading the horses to water doesn't make them drink, at least not with strangers. But you can encourage. You can even pressure during the service: "First person on the aisle in the fron row -- would you stand up. Now skip a row -- first person on the aisle in the third row -- would you stand up. [And so on to the back.] After the service, I'd like the people in the odd rows -- hey, this is an odd thing we're doing -- to have coffee or tea or juice with the person behind them. And you people in the back row with no partners -- join the person in front of you. If you have kids in a class somewhere -- don't worry. The teachers won't take them home. They'll wait for you. Now I know some of you don't want to do this, and that's alright. Just tell your coffee partner that they wouldn't like you. You're too busy to be liked. You'd have the time if they were Jesus, but they're not, so you're too busy -- oh, wait, that's not what Jesus taught in the Good Samaritan parable, is it. Well, just tell them you're not very likable. Or better yet, pretend you are for three minutes."
There is something to be said for pretending. Being polite is pretending sometimes, but because you do it you sometimes build acquainances that turn into friendships. So doing ritualistic or rote or even forced familiarity activities can build bridges -- would race relations have improved as much if the country had not been forced to interact a bit more than we did in the '50's?
OK -- I'm done now.
Posted by: George Ertel March 12, 2005 04:31 PM
Tod, this comment isn't so much about the specific issue but it stirred up another question with me.
"Regular people" - in the context of your post this refers to those not acting as specialists (i.e. the greeters or parking lot attendants)
As I try to figure out how big is too big and how complicated is too complicated it strikes me that when a church needs parking lot attendants and greeters it MIGHT be a sign that some sort of line has been crossed. (not in the sense of right vs. wrong but in good vs. best)
In other words, when Sunday mornings (or any gatherings) are largely dependent on NON-regular types it might not be best.
I realize I'm not articulating this very well but the "regular people" phrase has really stuck with me.