Sometimes Grace Costs...

Ten minutes before a three hour visioning meeting, a man rushes into the meeting room at the church and asks if there is a pastor here.  Of course, I say, "I am one of the pastors at Bethel."

He goes on to explain that he rushed out of the house earlier in the day and that his wife had just given birth to twin girls at the hospital.  He was in need of gas.  Could I help?

We have a system for that at Bethel.  I didn't follow the system.  I needed to get into the meeting, so I tried to be as quick as possible.  I asked him to write down his contact information, and he gave me a name and phone number.  I asked the names of the twin girls, and he gave me two names with birth weights.

Twice he told me he wasn't looking for a handout, but that he would be back with the money as soon as he got home--about 25 miles from Rochester--and could get back to town that evening.  Maybe an hour and a half.  That was Thursday.

I asked him for his driver's license--a requirement at Bethel for receiving a gas voucher.  He had rushed out of the house.  He didn't have it.  I cannot give aid at Bethel without the license.  But he looked so sincere, and I was pleased for the birth of his twins.  I couldn't give him any Bethel help, but I could give him my own money.  I explained that Bethel could not do what he asked, but I would trust him.  He told me he would be back on Thursday.

It is Saturday.

Will he ever come back?  Did I waste twenty dollars?  Did I spend it?  Did I invest it in the kingdom?  I suppose I will never know.  Quite a few people over my 32 years of being a pastor have said they would come back with the money.  Only two have. 

It is a risk.  Of grace.  Maybe I got taken by a good story.  Maybe a father with new twins has just forgotten a promise.  Maybe someone is thinking, "At least the church was willing to help."  Sometimes grace does have a cost...

THREE YEAR OLDS IN CHURCH? ARE YOU CRAZY?

Those who know me well know that the sun rises and sets in my two grandsons, especially Jarek with whom I have been a big buddy for almost three years (he turns three on April 2).  I spend a lot of time with him, but, since I am a pastor, rarely do I get to be with him during worship.

This past Wednesday I had no leadership role in our mid-week Lenten service, so Jarek’s family, my wife, and I were all together in the pew. 

It was a delight.

Bethel is exploring the senses that God has given us during our mid-week services this year—how do they sharpen our journey to the cross?

This past Wednesday the sense was “touch.”  This little-boy-just-short-of-three picked up on the theme immediately without being told.  When a pastor would say “touch”, he would repeat it out loud—the pastors even heard it by the altar.  He might have been coloring, he might have been paying close attention—it did not matter.  He was listening, and he knew that “touch” was an important gift of God that night.  I was so delighted to hold him, to help him sing the songs, to explain the bidding prayers we were using, to worship God with him.

I am told once in a while that parents will not come to church because their small children get nothing out of it.  There are too many times that I have been told of some astute observation or question by a child for me to believe children aren't paying attention.  Children belong in worship.  They probably don’t understand everything (surprise—pastors don’t understand everything either), but they are learning about God’s great love for them through the gathered body of Christ.

Please.  Please.  Bring your children/grandchildren/nieces/nephews/small neighbors to worship with you.  You could be making an eternal difference.

Oh, Jarek wasn’t perfect.  At one point, ironically enough on a night in which touch was the focus, he complained about his eight-month old brother, “Joren’s touching me!”  Oh, well.  His parents and grandparents aren’t perfect either.

May God touch all young ones (and middle-aged and old ones) in worship.

Meet the Vikings Head Coach

You're just going to have to trust me on this...the man in the background of this picture is new Minnesota Viking head coach, Leslie Frazier, who, last night, was the featured speaker at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes banquet in Rochester.

I came away from the banquet refreshed that a man of character and faith is leading the sports team I love the most.  He knows what is ultimately important, and it isn't football.  When, as a player, he suffered a career ending injury in his mid-twenties after having led the Chicago Bears in interceptions three years in a row and helping them to win a Super Bowl, he knew then and he knows now the most important thing in his life--faith.  It was faith that would get him through the hard times.  It is faith that encourages him today.  It is faith that leads him to believe that times of fulfillment will follow him.

A few random quotes from last night:

• Hebrews 11:1--I don't know what God's plan is, but I'm going to trust.
• God wants us to have hope in the name of Christ Jesus.
• I see God time and time again deliver on his promises.
• God has a purpose for everyone in this room.
• God doesn't care how many Super Bowl rings I have, but he does care if I have accepted Jesus Christ as Lord.
• We serve a loving God that loves us unconditionally.

Oh, at least one football item:  "We're going to have a lot of fun in Minnesota winning football games."

People of faith are everywhere--some of them even sit in the highest offices of coaching football.  I am thankful that a man of grace is at the helm of the Vikings.

Ethics? Not so much...

This morning another Bethel staff member and I needed to renew certification for using a web-based program assisting people in need who come to the church for help.

This portion of the training was to begin at 11am.  Three people not from Bethel had needed additional training in the longer module, and they had already been in session for a couple of hours.  The first part had gone a bit faster than anticipated, so they were halfway through the renewal part when the other Bethel staff person and I arrived.

No problem.  The trainer would continue with the remainder of the last module, and she would repeat the first part for the two of us from Bethel.  Having completed the training for the first three people, the leader handed out tests that needed completed before certification to use the program would be awarded.  The trainer then completed the process for us from Bethel.  Meanwhile, the other three were completing their tests.

My colleague and I were given the ten question tests.  As I read the first question, I could see no apparent answer I needed to offer.  The blanks were filled in with words in bold.  I went to the second question--multiple choice.  But it appeared to me that the answer to that question, too, had already been identified.  A quick look at the rest of the test revealed that all the questions had been answered.  I told the leader that I didn't understand the test--that it appeared I had the key to the test--could I have a different sheet?  The leader looked at the sheet and apologized.  Indeed, all the answers had been filled in.  When she looked at the rest of the tests, they, too, were all complete.  Every one had the answers. 

I wondered why the previous three had not alerted the instructor to the problem.  Would that not have been the right thing to do?

Oh...  You ask the subject of the test?  Ethics.  Oh, my.

Sins--Scarlet, Black, and White

Standing out in the snow this morning while offering Coffee & A Prayer to people, I was struck by both the beauty and the incongruity of our electronic sign at Bethel.

Of course, the snow was building up from the east, and it was more beautiful than the picture would communicate.


Ash Wednesday--a time of repentance--a time to receive a smudge of ash on the forehead to remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return.  We move through a lengthy litany of sin so that we can come to the promise of forgiveness. 
 But the blackness of sin is sometimes described as scarlet.  We read in the first chapter of Isaiah:
"...says the LORD:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be like snow..."

As white as snow.  As white as snow on Ash Wednesday.  

This is No Church

Not quite a year ago I was honored to serve the family of Lance Corporal Curtis Swenson.  This fine young man and marine was killed in Afghanistan when the vehicle he was riding in hit an improvised explosive device.  It was an honor to serve the Swensons, but it was so hard.  Not nearly so hard as it was impossible for his parents, Dave and Kay, and his family.  They were devastated by this loss, as they should have been.

Healing has been hard.  The wounds are still open.  And it is apparent that those wounds have been freshly ripped by this week's Supreme Court ruling allowing for hateful protests at military funerals.  The court has ruled that free speech, no matter how vile, must be protected in public places.  The ruling was in response to a man's suit against...a church?

That same church had targeted Lance Corporal Swenson's funeral last year for protest.  I will not give space to the hateful signs that the protesters carry, but they are enough to make me vomit.  The church, the military, the community, and the Patriot Guard surrounded the Swenson family last April.  Had protesters come, they would have been met with hundreds, many hundreds of people who would have kept them far away.  When we left the church for the long trip to the cemetery in southern Minnesota, we were not met with signs of protests.  We were met with signs of thanks, American and Marine flags, salutes, tears, waves. 

I am no legal scholar, and my opinion of the Supreme Court ruling is of little importance.  But I am a Christian pastor, and I am appalled that the suit needed bringing in the first place.  Remember, this suit was brought against a church that purports to be Christian!

The signs these people carry, and their slogans, are as far from Christ as Satan himself.  I am not distressed when Christians disagree with one another.  But when we use the language of evil to support our cause, we have moved to the side of evil.

I am sorry that the pain of the Swenson family and so many more families has been renewed by this ruling.  I am incensed that it is caused by a "church".  Jesus said that there were two commandments:  Love God; and love neighbor as oneself.  I am thankful when we succeed at obeying those two, and we need to repent when we fall short.  But if we are to speak as this "church" speaks, we have completely lost sight of both commandments.   They may enjoy the right to speak as they choose, but they do not speak in the name of Christ. 

Military families may feel betrayed by this Supreme Court ruling.  May they never be betrayed by those who follow in the way of Jesus Christ.