I love despair. www.despair.com, that is. The Demotivators posters keep me laughing the way Far Side cartoons used to. Among my favorites is the poster that highlights "Individuality." The picture showcases a beautiful snowflakeand the caption at the bottom reads, "Always remember that you are unique. Just like everybody else."
There may be something very wrong with my sense of humor, but I giggle at this poster because the message it conveys is so wrong. It implies, "Despite what you might like to think about yourself, you're nothing special.
Now solidly in my mid-50's and well into my 27th year of pastoring, I'm thoroughly convinced that everyone is truly unique in their uniqueness. If someone doesn't seem to stand out to me as a unique individual, it is because I have not yet come to know him or her well. As favorite authors Eugene Peterson and Philip Yancey have hammered home, there are no identical or one-dimensional people. Once you break through anyone's veneer, everyone is delightfully (and sometimes maddeningly) different due to family of origins, personal history, sibling rivalries, health, ethnicity, economic status and so much more.
Imagine walking into a room full of twenty or thirty WASPS (people like me). At first glance, they would all look the same and talk the same. However, upon closer examination, you would soon see that represented in this group of two or three dozen people are different political persuasions, different educational experiences, as well as different temperaments and personalities. What at first appeared to be a homogenized room full of dull, boring sameness turns out to be a room filled with rich diversity.
The church I pastor is located in a city known for its rich diversity. The population of San Antonio, Texas has a majority minority (Hispanics) and enjoys remarkably friendly relationships across the ethnic divide. We San Antonians ogle a wonderful blend of color at every trip to the grocery store as we rub shoulders with Hispanics, Caucasions, African-Americans, and Asians. As much as any city I know of, San Antonio celebrates and champions the rich heritage of the various ethnicities that make up our city.
For some time, many of us at Northwest Community Church have embraced the idea that we are all unique and diverse AND have lamented the fact that the ethnic diversity we see at church is not as great as that which we see in the city at large.
As much as a year ago, the Elders at our church began to address this situation. Over the past year we have prayed, talked, taken some action, and are considering other actions that we hope will bring more rich diversity to our congregation.
Among the actions taken has been the hiring of Guillermo Cardona, until recently an Army Chaplain, a TEDS graduate, and a great addition to our staff as he serves as Pastor of Family Ministries and Local Outreach. Guillermo, his wife, Laura, and daughter, Kezia, moved from Chicago to San Antonio in June to experience the hottest summer San Antonio has ever recorded. (I keep telling him that he will love our winters!) Both Guillermo and Laura are bi-lingual, a gift that has come in very handy with guests who are more comfortable with Spanish than English. Guillermo's Latino surname and background has seemed to make it easier for some Hispanics to feel comfortable fellowshipping with us.
The Elders have also benefitted from some conversations with Alex Mandes, Free Church Director of Hispanic Ministries. Alex has made several recommendations to consider as we dream of becoming "a church that looks like our community." (things like bi-lingual signage, bi-lingual phrases tossed into messages, ethnic diversity in song selection and up-front leadership, etc...). All of his recommendations are on the table and we are moving toward implementing some of them.
None of us are interested in diversity for diversity's sake. We all believe, though, that if we are serving our community well, our church will reflect the diversity we see in the community. For that reason we are praying that God will make us a hospitable, welcoming church to all who visit us and that we will lovingly pursue all people with the love of Christ.
I believe that our church is only now at the very beginning stages of a journey into becoming a melting-pot congregation. We have much to learn - and perhaps much to unlearn - if we are going to become an "all peoples" church that reflects the diversity of our wonderfully diverse city.
I also believe that if we could lose the cynicism implied in the Demotivators' poster to which I referred at the beginning, we could agree that the caption is true. Each one of us is actually unique. Every person we meet is a distinctive creation of God. There is rich diversity evident in every group, regardless of ethnicity. For a church like ours that is eager to extend its reach beyond current borders, I'm hopeful that we will discover than an appreciation for individuality will extend to - and well beyond - skin deep.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
General Practice Pastors
General Practice Pastors
We live in an age of specialization. Many have observed (and lamented) the demise of the General Practitioner. More commonly, the physician is an endocrinologist, gastroenterologist, maxillofacial surgeon, or an OB-GYN! Given the complex systems that our bodies are, I'm grateful for the specialist.
Today's cars call for a similar degree of particular skills. Transmission repairmen don't have the same skill set as brake specialists. And brake guys may have little expertise when it comes to body repair.
“News Flash!” Specialization has bled over into the world of church.
Many of the more influential churches in the United States today serve thousands of people and are staffed by many dozens or more trained pastors and support personnel. With a church of many thousands, specialization is a requirement. Meeting the dizzying array of needs of a multitude of people representing all of the various stations in life will necessarily require staff who are especially gifted in counseling or preaching or administration or leadership.
But, a church comprised of dozens or perhaps two or three hundred people will have neither the need nor the resources for a highly specialized staff. The smaller church needs a General Practice Pastor. And while there are wonderful advantages to the expertise of the specialist, the General Practice model has a few things going for it, too.
For one, the church is protected from the spectator syndrome. In the smaller church, there are few places to hide. The Worship Center is not cavernous. Everybody is visible. And the task:worker ratio approximates 1:1.
In the smaller church, when the Sunday morning announcer announces that there is a need for somebody to help paint the outside shed, people don't automotically think, "Let the staff do it. Rather, Jim is naturally drawn to the idea, “I’ll bet I could do that.” A couple of weeks ago, our program announced the need for some landscaping help. A soft-spoken couple who shy away from the limelight showed up the next Saturday to plant lantanas in the offensively naked bed. They owned a task. They realized, “We can do this” - and they did it.
A congregation of dozens or hundreds fosters personal ownership of ministry. “Ruth is in the hospital. I’ll visit.” Or “Galen lost his job. Let’s see if he could use groceries.” And, “The White’s kid is acting up again. Let’s pray and go visit them.”
So, the smaller church disallows spectatorism. It also prompts a trust in the Lord rather than in the experts. As I just pointed out, the expert is a wonderful gift from the Lord. The larger church trusts the Lord as they bring a professionally trained counselor or an MBA-degreed manager on staff.
But in the absence of such expertise, a church bends the knee, asks the Lord for wisdom, and then trusts Him as it takes strong action. Counseling (read “friendship”) happens organically as people in small groups interact honestly. Leadership decisions get wrestled through at Elder meetings, are introduced to the congregation and bugs are worked through on the fly. It’s not always pretty, but relationships are respected in the process.
But if the smaller church setting benefits the congregation by discouraging the spectator syndrome and encouraging a robust trust in the Lord, it benefits the pastor even more.
There is tremendous advantage to being a GP Pastor. Having never been the pastor of a large church, I can’t say what the Senior Pastor does or does not do there. I’ve had good friendships with a mega-church pastor or two, so I’m not totally ignorant. But my guesses would probably be somewhat off. And I’m not writing about what does or does not happen in that setting. I’m writing to express what I know happens in the smaller church.
I know that there is great variety in this setting. During any given week I’ll counsel, prepare a message or two, lead a meeting or two, write an article, meet with a couple who are planning a wedding, pray with a struggler, interact with staff, and check out the leak in Room 108.
This is standard pastoral stuff, and much of it is done regardless of the size of the congregation. The smaller setting is what I know, and I know that it provides ample opportunity to minister across the broad spectrum of human need. The GP Pastor actively shepherds individual sheep as he leads the flock to green pastures.
Eugene Peterson (one of those who has pastored me over the years through his writings) wrote somewhere that the pastoral vocation is one where creativity is valued and required. I agree. In the church I serve, my soul has stretch marks from the repeated pulls and tugs and shoves of the lives (and deaths) of the people who populate my world. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
We live in an age of specialization. Many have observed (and lamented) the demise of the General Practitioner. More commonly, the physician is an endocrinologist, gastroenterologist, maxillofacial surgeon, or an OB-GYN! Given the complex systems that our bodies are, I'm grateful for the specialist.
Today's cars call for a similar degree of particular skills. Transmission repairmen don't have the same skill set as brake specialists. And brake guys may have little expertise when it comes to body repair.
“News Flash!” Specialization has bled over into the world of church.
Many of the more influential churches in the United States today serve thousands of people and are staffed by many dozens or more trained pastors and support personnel. With a church of many thousands, specialization is a requirement. Meeting the dizzying array of needs of a multitude of people representing all of the various stations in life will necessarily require staff who are especially gifted in counseling or preaching or administration or leadership.
But, a church comprised of dozens or perhaps two or three hundred people will have neither the need nor the resources for a highly specialized staff. The smaller church needs a General Practice Pastor. And while there are wonderful advantages to the expertise of the specialist, the General Practice model has a few things going for it, too.
For one, the church is protected from the spectator syndrome. In the smaller church, there are few places to hide. The Worship Center is not cavernous. Everybody is visible. And the task:worker ratio approximates 1:1.
In the smaller church, when the Sunday morning announcer announces that there is a need for somebody to help paint the outside shed, people don't automotically think, "Let the staff do it. Rather, Jim is naturally drawn to the idea, “I’ll bet I could do that.” A couple of weeks ago, our program announced the need for some landscaping help. A soft-spoken couple who shy away from the limelight showed up the next Saturday to plant lantanas in the offensively naked bed. They owned a task. They realized, “We can do this” - and they did it.
A congregation of dozens or hundreds fosters personal ownership of ministry. “Ruth is in the hospital. I’ll visit.” Or “Galen lost his job. Let’s see if he could use groceries.” And, “The White’s kid is acting up again. Let’s pray and go visit them.”
So, the smaller church disallows spectatorism. It also prompts a trust in the Lord rather than in the experts. As I just pointed out, the expert is a wonderful gift from the Lord. The larger church trusts the Lord as they bring a professionally trained counselor or an MBA-degreed manager on staff.
But in the absence of such expertise, a church bends the knee, asks the Lord for wisdom, and then trusts Him as it takes strong action. Counseling (read “friendship”) happens organically as people in small groups interact honestly. Leadership decisions get wrestled through at Elder meetings, are introduced to the congregation and bugs are worked through on the fly. It’s not always pretty, but relationships are respected in the process.
But if the smaller church setting benefits the congregation by discouraging the spectator syndrome and encouraging a robust trust in the Lord, it benefits the pastor even more.
There is tremendous advantage to being a GP Pastor. Having never been the pastor of a large church, I can’t say what the Senior Pastor does or does not do there. I’ve had good friendships with a mega-church pastor or two, so I’m not totally ignorant. But my guesses would probably be somewhat off. And I’m not writing about what does or does not happen in that setting. I’m writing to express what I know happens in the smaller church.
I know that there is great variety in this setting. During any given week I’ll counsel, prepare a message or two, lead a meeting or two, write an article, meet with a couple who are planning a wedding, pray with a struggler, interact with staff, and check out the leak in Room 108.
This is standard pastoral stuff, and much of it is done regardless of the size of the congregation. The smaller setting is what I know, and I know that it provides ample opportunity to minister across the broad spectrum of human need. The GP Pastor actively shepherds individual sheep as he leads the flock to green pastures.
Eugene Peterson (one of those who has pastored me over the years through his writings) wrote somewhere that the pastoral vocation is one where creativity is valued and required. I agree. In the church I serve, my soul has stretch marks from the repeated pulls and tugs and shoves of the lives (and deaths) of the people who populate my world. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Cheer Up. You Could be Camping
Camping has long been one of my great loves. I've coupled that passion to ministry on more than one occasion, sometimes with interesting results. Sometime in the late 1990's, I took some teenaged boys backpacking to a state park near San Antonio and learned some valuable lessons along the way.
My neighbors have come to appreciate my camping ways. Not that they usually camp with me (A couple of them did, once. Only once. I wonder why.....?). They are happy for me to go camping because of the meteorological impact. When they see me loading up the car (at that time it was a station wagon) for a foray into the wilderness they quickly fertilize their yards, knowing that a thunderstorm can’t be far away.
One of my more memorable excursions occured when I took a trip with a gaggle of boys - my sons Ben and Zach and their friends Micah Johnson and Nels Jacobson. The thunderstorm held off until after camp was set up and dinner cooked and eaten. Then, “the fountains of the great deep burst open and the floodgates of the sky opened.” Noah had nothing on us.
We survived the night with no major disasters. Just minor ones. A night that began with two occupied tents ended with one unoccupied (something about a river running through it). Soggy sleeping bags added an element of fellowship none of us had expected. Fortunately, it was so cold we scarcely noticed that we were wet all night long.
The night was miserable, but the next day dawned bright and clear. We enjoyed a great breakfast, had a great hike and saw some beautiful country. All in all, it turned out to be a great campout. But, it was almost the campout that wasn’t......
You see, for a few days before the campout, the weather service had been predicting major thunderstorms for the night of our overnighter. This was no surprise storm. We all knew it was coming. Having camped in the rain a few times, I knew what we were in store for and was ready to can the trip. I polled my camping buddies in advance, but everyone of them wanted to go, no matter what the weather forecasters were saying. What did they know? They were only teenagers. I went from them to one of my mature friends, Bob Robison (an experienced camper) the night before we left. I told him my misgivings about camping in the face of a predicted weather event. His comment left me speechless. Rational, reasonable Bob said, “You’ve been planning a camping trip for three months and you’re thinking about canceling because of rain? Go!” So, we went, not knowing if my life insurance policy covered stupidity - and we had the time of our lives.
My reflections on our campout lead me to make several observations about myself. See if this shoe fits.
One, I notice how often I seek to orchestrate life, thinking that with enough planning I can enjoy sunny days without stormy nights? False theology. Heresy. Good planning is important, but stormy nights are a part of the program. Storms are not to be avoided at all costs.
Two, how often do I opt for what I think is guaranteed safety when avoiding risk means running from life itself? Risk - financial, relational, health etc..... - is everywhere I go. To eliminate risk is to live a shallow life. God calls me away from the safe, sandy banks and into the middle of the river where the current runs strong.
Three, how often do I so fear the worst that might come my way - the water in the tent, the cold night, the soggy sleeping bag - that I avoid the potentially unpleasant situation altogether and miss the accompanying blessing. The reality is that had we not gone camping on that awful night, we would not have enjoyed one of the finest Hill Country days I have ever experienced and the five of us would not have bonded the way we did.
God doesn’t call us to stupidity or to go out of our way to encounter hardship. It does seem to me, though, that He calls us to not avoid storms at all costs, to be willing to enter risky places and to understand that He uses hardship for our good. James’ words come to mind: “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of our faith produces endurance.” (James 1:2-3)
My neighbors have come to appreciate my camping ways. Not that they usually camp with me (A couple of them did, once. Only once. I wonder why.....?). They are happy for me to go camping because of the meteorological impact. When they see me loading up the car (at that time it was a station wagon) for a foray into the wilderness they quickly fertilize their yards, knowing that a thunderstorm can’t be far away.
One of my more memorable excursions occured when I took a trip with a gaggle of boys - my sons Ben and Zach and their friends Micah Johnson and Nels Jacobson. The thunderstorm held off until after camp was set up and dinner cooked and eaten. Then, “the fountains of the great deep burst open and the floodgates of the sky opened.” Noah had nothing on us.
We survived the night with no major disasters. Just minor ones. A night that began with two occupied tents ended with one unoccupied (something about a river running through it). Soggy sleeping bags added an element of fellowship none of us had expected. Fortunately, it was so cold we scarcely noticed that we were wet all night long.
The night was miserable, but the next day dawned bright and clear. We enjoyed a great breakfast, had a great hike and saw some beautiful country. All in all, it turned out to be a great campout. But, it was almost the campout that wasn’t......
You see, for a few days before the campout, the weather service had been predicting major thunderstorms for the night of our overnighter. This was no surprise storm. We all knew it was coming. Having camped in the rain a few times, I knew what we were in store for and was ready to can the trip. I polled my camping buddies in advance, but everyone of them wanted to go, no matter what the weather forecasters were saying. What did they know? They were only teenagers. I went from them to one of my mature friends, Bob Robison (an experienced camper) the night before we left. I told him my misgivings about camping in the face of a predicted weather event. His comment left me speechless. Rational, reasonable Bob said, “You’ve been planning a camping trip for three months and you’re thinking about canceling because of rain? Go!” So, we went, not knowing if my life insurance policy covered stupidity - and we had the time of our lives.
My reflections on our campout lead me to make several observations about myself. See if this shoe fits.
One, I notice how often I seek to orchestrate life, thinking that with enough planning I can enjoy sunny days without stormy nights? False theology. Heresy. Good planning is important, but stormy nights are a part of the program. Storms are not to be avoided at all costs.
Two, how often do I opt for what I think is guaranteed safety when avoiding risk means running from life itself? Risk - financial, relational, health etc..... - is everywhere I go. To eliminate risk is to live a shallow life. God calls me away from the safe, sandy banks and into the middle of the river where the current runs strong.
Three, how often do I so fear the worst that might come my way - the water in the tent, the cold night, the soggy sleeping bag - that I avoid the potentially unpleasant situation altogether and miss the accompanying blessing. The reality is that had we not gone camping on that awful night, we would not have enjoyed one of the finest Hill Country days I have ever experienced and the five of us would not have bonded the way we did.
God doesn’t call us to stupidity or to go out of our way to encounter hardship. It does seem to me, though, that He calls us to not avoid storms at all costs, to be willing to enter risky places and to understand that He uses hardship for our good. James’ words come to mind: “Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of our faith produces endurance.” (James 1:2-3)
First blog
Hello, reader (no reason to be overly optomistic)!
This being my first blog entry, it'll be short. Short is only fitting as the theme of my blog is to celebrate the small. There's probably enough being written these days hailing the wonder of big stuff. Macro-demographic changes. Big cities. Massive governments. Mega-churches. Professional athletes with major muscles. You get the idea.
My world is not all that big. I'm not huge. Five foot ten and (roughly) 165 pounds. I have a smaller family, with three grown children and a wonderful daughter-in-law. My granddaughter, while wonderful, is small (well, she's one year old).
And I pastor a church that is by most definitions, small. I've been pastoring this church since 1982, the year of its inception. We started with about five couples and have never grown to mega-churchdom.
There are some three to four hundred people who would call themselves a part of this church I serve - Northwest Community Church in San Antonio, Texas. Other churches surround our church that are larger and much better known.
To be honest, I thank God for these larger churches! They are filling a vital role in this community. But I'm not in one of those larger churches. I'm serving in a smaller church. And - get this - I don't feel "stuck" here.
I really enjoy serving this congregation. I have learned things serving in a smaller church over nearly three decades that I might not have learned in a larger context. While I know that pastors of larger churches learn tremendous lessons of faith and grow in grace, I'm suspicious that I've learned things - different, not better things - at this church I might not have learned elsewhere.
I intend to write about the beauty, trials, challenges, and opportunities afforded the pastor of a church small enough for him to know most of those in attendance. It is worth celebrating when a community of any size comes together to worship, to learn, to grieve, to rejoice, and to otherwise share life. There are lots of big places where this is happening. It has been my honor to have served for the better part of my adult life in a small place where this happens regularly.
It will be my privilege to introduce you to the glory of the small.
This being my first blog entry, it'll be short. Short is only fitting as the theme of my blog is to celebrate the small. There's probably enough being written these days hailing the wonder of big stuff. Macro-demographic changes. Big cities. Massive governments. Mega-churches. Professional athletes with major muscles. You get the idea.
My world is not all that big. I'm not huge. Five foot ten and (roughly) 165 pounds. I have a smaller family, with three grown children and a wonderful daughter-in-law. My granddaughter, while wonderful, is small (well, she's one year old).
And I pastor a church that is by most definitions, small. I've been pastoring this church since 1982, the year of its inception. We started with about five couples and have never grown to mega-churchdom.
There are some three to four hundred people who would call themselves a part of this church I serve - Northwest Community Church in San Antonio, Texas. Other churches surround our church that are larger and much better known.
To be honest, I thank God for these larger churches! They are filling a vital role in this community. But I'm not in one of those larger churches. I'm serving in a smaller church. And - get this - I don't feel "stuck" here.
I really enjoy serving this congregation. I have learned things serving in a smaller church over nearly three decades that I might not have learned in a larger context. While I know that pastors of larger churches learn tremendous lessons of faith and grow in grace, I'm suspicious that I've learned things - different, not better things - at this church I might not have learned elsewhere.
I intend to write about the beauty, trials, challenges, and opportunities afforded the pastor of a church small enough for him to know most of those in attendance. It is worth celebrating when a community of any size comes together to worship, to learn, to grieve, to rejoice, and to otherwise share life. There are lots of big places where this is happening. It has been my honor to have served for the better part of my adult life in a small place where this happens regularly.
It will be my privilege to introduce you to the glory of the small.
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