I went to the funeral of a friend/colleague’s dad on Saturday. The friend/colleague is a pastor. He preached his dad’s funeral. He did a great job. I sat in the congregation almost teary eyed remembering how difficult it was to preach my own father’s funeral. I prayed for my friend the entire service. I’m not sure if my prayers made any difference, but my friend honored his dad in a magnificent way. The most powerful point in the service (the most meaningful for me, anyway) came as my friend shared about baptizing his own father. That was a special moment, and it probably has a lot to do with why I’m writing this morning. Of course, it could be that Father’s Day is right around the corner, too. The episode caused me to come home and “Google” my dad just to see what I found. All I found was his obituary.

My dad (Terry Lynn Malone, Sr.) died on March 24, 2006. It was a Friday, and it’s a day I’ll never forget. Vanessa and I were living in Benton, LA at the time, and I had gotten up early to make the trek to Monroe for his scheduled surgery. We knew it was going to be a long surgery, but we weren’t expecting any major complications. I rushed to get to Monroe, and I prayed the whole trip that I’d make it before he went in to surgery. We arrived at St. Francis Medical Center, rushed up to the surgery floor and found my step-mom in the waiting room. I was afraid I’d missed him, but the nurse told us he was still in the holding area. They were gracious enough to allow me to go back to see him before they took him to surgery.

I went into the holding area. It was a large room designed to “hold” many patients as they prepared for surgery. He was the only one left in the room when I arrived. I walked over to him, asked how he was doing, and we chatted briefly about the surgery and the coming recovery period. I can’t quite remember, but the entire conversation couldn’t have been more than two minutes. The nurse called over to us and said they were coming to take him back. I said a prayer for my dad, gave him a hug and told him I’d see him later. I never saw my dad alive again.

I returned to the waiting room more than a little unsettled because I knew I wouldn’t be staying for the entire surgery. Ever the pastor, I was officiating a wedding that weekend, and the rehearsal was on Friday. Duty was calling, and I was responding. After sitting a while with my step-mom, my other brothers (I have three) began arriving one-by-one. After everyone was there, and a few other friends arrived to provide support and comfort, Vanessa and I headed back to Benton with my dad still in surgery. I thought I had done all I could do. No sense in sitting in a waiting room. I couldn’t be there when he was scheduled to come out, so there was work to be done. By noon, we were headed back to Benton.

Five o’clock came, and we had still heard nothing from my dad. I was getting a little worried but had to get to the church anyway. The rehearsal was scheduled for 6:00 p.m. I arrived at the church around 5:15 p.m. As I was preparing for the rehearsal my phone rang. It was my oldest brother. The somber words still ring in my ears…”He didn’t make it.” As my brother was speaking those words, the wedding party was coming in the front door of the church. I’ve never felt more helpless than I did in that moment. I asked the wedding party to go into the sanctuary. I went to my office. I cried.

I’d like to tell you I soldiered on through the evening…that I led the wedding rehearsal and the subsequent ceremony…but, I didn’t (after all, I’m not the perfect pastor). Let’s just say, “Thank God for retired clergy in the congregation.” Vanessa and I, and the girls left immediately to return to Monroe. It was where we needed to be…it was where I had to be.

I’m not sure that I’ve sufficiently processed that entire episode, or that I’ve fully forgiven myself for not staying with the family during the surgery. Maybe writing this blog will aid in that process. Maybe the act of listening to my friend talk about his dad just brought a lot of emotions I thought I had dealt with back to the surface. I’m not sure, but I’m writing. Some wise person said, “When we don’t know what to do, we do what we know.”

I still don’t remember what I said at my dad’s funeral…something about leaving things unsaid (we shouldn’t leave things unsaid, especially important things)…I was just doing what I knew to do. We each process grief differently. I guess that’s how I was processing it.

I’ve held on to one thing through these years, and that one thing came back to me when my friend talked about baptizing his father. I didn’t have the opportunity to baptize my dad (he was a charter member of Faith UMC in West Monroe, LA), but I’ve rested in the knowledge that the last thing I ever said to my dad was a prayer entrusting him into the hands of Jesus. I still count that prayer as grace, and also as a precious gift, both to him and to me. Yeah, I’ve thought of a million things I’d like to have said since then, but then I think those things wouldn’t have been quite the gift that prayer was that day.

I still miss him. I guess I always will. I know how hard it was for my friend this past week. I suspect he was doing the only thing he knew to do.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Summer has unofficially “officially” arrived. The Sunday of Memorial Day weekend is historically “low attendance” Sunday, rivaled only by the Sunday following Christmas in terms of church attendance. This past Sunday was in keeping with that tradition at FUMC, Monroe. With that thought in mind, I thought it might be helpful if I posted a synopsis of this past Sunday’s message just for all those who missed it.

The Bible is rich with examples of godly people doing some pretty ungodly things. We like to think we’re godly people, too. We want to do the right thing, but sometimes, try as we might, we fail to honor God with our actions. Our failures, though, rather than pointing to our ungodliness, point more to our humanity, and our need for forgiveness and grace. So, rather than pointing fingers, let’s discover some lessons that might help us in our own struggles to live faithfully in the grace and forgiveness of God.

Surely we can learn a few lessons of faith from “the” one God chose to bless the nations.  Abraham has such a prominent place in biblical history that few would doubt that he was a godly person, but we discover very early in his life that even godly people can do some pretty ungodly things. Perhaps that is the first lesson we can learn—that human nature is human nature no matter the century. Let’s see what else we can learn from Abraham.

We pick up his story in Genesis 12:10-20:

At that time there was a severe famine in the land, so Abram went down to Egypt to wait it out. [11] As he was approaching the borders of Egypt, Abram said to Sarah, “You are a very beautiful woman. [12] When the Egyptians see you, they will say, ’This is his wife. Let’s kill him; then we can have her!’ [13] But if you say you are my sister, then the Egyptians will treat me well because of their interest in you, and they will spare my life.” 

[14] And sure enough, when they arrived in Egypt, everyone spoke of her beauty. [15] When the palace officials saw her, they sang her praises to their king, the pharaoh, and she was taken into his harem. [16] Then Pharaoh gave Abram many gifts because of her—sheep, cattle, donkeys, male and female servants, and camels. [17] But the Lord sent a terrible plague upon Pharaoh’s household because of Sarah, Abram’s wife. [18] So Pharaoh called for Abram and accused him sharply. “What is this you have done to me?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me she was your wife? [19] Why were you willing to let me marry her, saying she was your sister? Here is your wife! Take her and be gone!” [20] Pharaoh then sent them out of the country under armed escort—Abram and his wife, with all their household and belongings.

Briefly, here are a few more lessons I learn as I reflect on Abraham and Sarah’s experience:

• Challenging times make even godly people vulnerable to doing ungodly things.Difficult circumstances open the door to spiritual temptation, and the greatest temptation we can have in our lives is to doubt God’s faithfulness.
• We are most vulnerable to temptation after a spiritual high point. The reality is we have a long way to fall after a mountaintop moment.  Satan will use his mightiest forces against us when we are closest to God because that is when we are the most threatening to him.
• Relying on our own resources only causes us more problems. We dig a deeper hole when we step outside of God’s provision for our lives.
• Just because a person is blessed financially or materially does not necessarily indicate divine favor. Some preachers tell us if we’re not blessed financially we are outside of God’s will, but Proverbs 21: 6 says, “Wealth created by lying is a vanishing mist and a deadly trap.”
• Our failure sometimes impacts others far more than it impacts us.

Those are a few lessons I learned from Abraham’s actions, but most importantly, I learn that God always pursues us no matter how ungodly the actions we take. This is not a story about our failure—not a story about Abraham’s failure. It’s about a God who restored Abraham and kept his promise in spite of his failure. And, God pursues us. He has pursued us all the way to the cross in Jesus Christ, and he continues to pursue us through His Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit moves in us to confront us, to convict us, and to call us back to Himself so He can fulfill His promise in our lives. The reality is that His pursuit of us might be through the conviction we feel at having failed, but the conviction is not for purpose of judgment. His purpose is for our restoration.

We become like the prodigal son in Luke’s gospel, who wandered away from home, and the judgment for him came as the consequence of his decisions, and the son found himself eating with pigs. But the Father in the story didn’t judge the son, he simply welcomed him home, and restored him to his place in the family. That is an image of God pursuing us so that He can welcome us back home and restore us to the place of His favor. There is my hope, and the most important lesson for me. God has called us, He has, in fact, chosen us in His son Jesus Christ. We are godly, but even when we do ungodly things, God pursues us. Have we found the hope he offers in Jesus Christ? If we’ve found forgiveness, perhaps it behooves us to practice forgiveness, too. Forgiveness. That’s about the most godly thing we can do.

Until next time, keep looking up…

I’m feeling reflective this morning as I consider that my first year as pastor of First United Methodist Church, Monroe is coming to a close in June. I’ve always been told the first year is the “honeymoon” period for a new appointment…that everyone plays nice the first year. I suppose I’ve been blessed, but I can’t remember a time in any of my appointments when everyone didn’t “play nice.” I never felt like the honeymoon ever ended. I’m not saying everything went perfectly in every appointment, but overall, I’ve never had a bad appointment, and never encountered any issue or problem that caused me to think we needed to move. Actually, if there were problems in a congregation, they were caused by some bone-headed move on my part (I’m not the perfect pastor, remember), and not something else. Sure, there have been times of disagreement, but we’ve always worked through the issues in a manner that, I trust, grew the Kingdom (of course, I might have had my head in the sand and didn’t know it–but ignorance is bliss, as they say). I’m saying all that to say, I hope the honeymoon doesn’t end at First United Methodist Church, Monroe.

I might also be saying there is no such thing as a honeymoon period. After two years as a District Superintendent, I think it’s reasonable to say an appointment starts well and stays well, or it starts poorly and stays that way. It can happen for numerous reasons there’s no need unpacking in this venue. Suffice it to say, sometimes, the Cabinet makes a poor choice for leadership in a church. Sometimes, a church is so dysfunctional that Jesus himself couldn’t pastor the church. Other times, a pastor goes to a new appointment with the wrong attitude. But, enough about that…

I have, on numerous occasions, thanked Bishop Harvey for my appointment to First United Methodist Church, Monroe. I’ve served as a pastor, and I’ve served administratively, and I can happily say (with Bill Hybels) that the local church is the hope of the world. The local church is the place disciples are made. Districts and Annual Conferences can help the process, or they can hinder the process, but they simply aren’t equipped to “make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world.” And, I couldn’t be appointed to a healthier congregation. We are strong in terms of discipleship opportunities. We are strong in number of lay persons engaged in ministry. We have an incredibly strong staff. We are strong financially. We are blessed, and I am blessed. I try to thank the Bishop every time I see her.

I am blessed that the leadership has been very responsive in this first year to my desire to update our technology. The leadership has been very gracious (and patient) as I have shared a vision for the long-term benefits of web-casting and integrated video technology. This was not an inexpensive endeavor, but I think we are taking steps that will sustain our disciple-making capability well into the 21st Century. I’m not sure if I mark that down as an accomplishment for the first year, but I know it aids us in outreach and communication, both of which are incredibly important to the life and health of any congregation.

I do have one regret as I reflect on this first year. I regret that I haven’t had the opportunity to get to know more members of the congregation. I know a lot of names. I know a lot of faces. And, I’m learning more everyday. One of the things I’ve valued through the years of ministry has been the one on one relationships I’ve been able to develop with members of congregations I’ve served. This first year at FUMC, Monroe has been such a whirlwind that I look back and wish I would have had more lunch meetings with members. I wish I could have visited in more homes. I wish I had more time to get to know everyone better. But, then I’m reminded this is a large congregation, and we’ve got plenty of time. That excites me.

As the first year draws to a close, I pray the honeymoon doesn’t draw to a close. My prayer is the honeymoon lasts as long as we’re together. I’m just counting my blessings and giving thanks for the chance to serve such a great God, and a great congregation.

Until next time, keep looking up…

The year was 2008 (that was a watershed year for me, by the way). It was a year of great spiritual struggle for me (yes, pastors struggle spiritually). It was in this year of great struggle that I was given a most profound thought that resonates with me still. I received this profound insight from a diminutive little Catholic nun. What was her profound statement? Simply this: “Perhaps God is so close you can’t see Him.”

I was doubting my call to ministry. I was doubting God’s love for me. I was doubting there was even a God, at all. Actually, since 2008, my life has pretty much (I said “pretty much”–I didn’t say totally) been an open book. I’ve been quick to share out of my own struggle as a means of encouraging others who are struggling spiritually. There is hope. We have to keep looking.

One of the places I looked for hope was in a relationship with a spiritual director. A spiritual director is a person trained in helping another discover the reality that God is present everywhere. Okay…let me make it easy for you…it’s like going to a therapist, but this therapist’s purpose is all about trying to help you see where God is at work. Sister Katherine, that diminutive Catholic nun, was my spiritual director.

Some may be asking why I chose a Catholic as a spiritual director. Honestly, (here’s part of the open book–and part of the reason I needed help in the first place) I went to the Catholic tradition because I didn’t want anyone in my own tradition to know I was struggling as greatly as I was struggling. It was the sin of pride. I thought I could go outside my tradition and no one would be the wiser. I’d find the help I needed, get the advice I was seeking, and keep moving. My pride was part of the reason I couldn’t sense God’s presence.

Something else that keeps us from sensing God’s presence is our busy-ness, and the distractions that are everyday life. Over a stretch of 18 months, many events had combined to keep me distracted. First, I began a weight loss regimen that led to a 60 lb. reduction in weight (it was life-changing in more ways than one!). I was focused like a laser on losing the weight. It became all consuming. Second, I lost my dad unexpectedly (that’s another post I need to write–still not sure I’ve processed all that was involved in that event). Next, Vanessa and I were involved in a car accident that left me unconscious for an extended period of time (did I tell you the story of the best Blizzard I never had?). Next, was a building project at the church I was serving. Throw in a capital campaign, a growing church, a couple of staff upheavals, and all the expectations of being a husband and a father (hmm? Do I sound like the Apostle Paul listing his struggles?), and you have a recipe for busy-ness that can easily take a person’s focus off the things that matter most. I simply wasn’t paying attention to God who was with me all the time.

Another reason I was not sensing God’s presence was the fact that I was trying to control everything. I was trying to control everything that was happening in my life. I was like a puppeteer trying to move all the strings in all the right directions. Another analogy I’ve used to try to describe that stage of my life was that I was trying to keep all the plates spinning. I was afraid if I allowed even one of the plates to fall that I would be a failure. A failure was the last thing I wanted to be. It was probably the first thing I needed to be. My need to succeed kept me from seeing the God who always sees me.

I could write about a few more reasons that I wasn’t sensing God’s presence during that period of my life, but then my life would be totally an open book, and that wouldn’t be beneficial to anyone (you’d really find out why I’m not the perfect pastor). Suffice it to say that after several visits with Sister Katherine, she’d probably heard all she wanted to hear of my whining and complaining about not being able to see God or feel God. She just looked at me on one of my visits and said, “Perhaps God is so close you can’t see Him.” Something so simple, yet so profound. I’d given my life following the call of God, and it was a concept I never considered. I’ve subsequently heard Len Sweet say it this way: “Jesus can be so close (‘closer than a brother’) to us it is like asking a bird to see air or a fish to see water.”

I never went to see Sister Katherine again after that meeting. I didn’t feel like I needed to. Oh, don’t misunderstand…some days there are still doubts. I still wrestle with pride. I still get too busy and distracted. And, yes, the fear of failure still rears its ugly head from time to time (along with a few other fears). But, in those times I simply remember that if I can’t see God, it’s probably because He’s so close I can’t see Him. I’m not sure if that offers others hope, but it sure gives me some.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Okay. I have to admit. Preaching is different for me lately. I’ve never been manuscript preacher (except in seminary preaching classes when my professor made me write a manuscript). For a long time I simply had notes in the margin or my bible, or kept an outline stored in my mind. That’s how I preached. Yes, I sometimes preached a little long (some would say “a lot” long), but I felt freedom to “chase rabbits” (or, if I want to sound really pious “follow the leading of the Holy Spirit”) in my preaching. I felt freedom in preaching.

As I grew older, I became more reliant on a written outline. I would take the mental outline of the sermon and write it on paper, usually on 5″ X 8″ paper that fit easily in my bible, and I would preach from the outline. The outline kept me more focused, and prevented me from chasing too many rabbits (er, I mean from following the Holy Spirit too much–Should I say that?). Though sometimes still a bit long, I didn’t get run off from my church. I think it had to do with age and not being able to remember things as much. Or, maybe I just had too many things to remember. The long and short of it is that my preaching style changed as I grew older.

Well, my preaching style has changed again. I’m now pretty much a manuscript preacher. They say “necessity is the mother of invention,” and that’s the case as I’ve learned to manuscript preach. We have three services at FUMC, Monroe, and I get to preach all three of them almost every Sunday. Our first worship is at 8:30 a.m., the second at 9:30 a.m., and the final one is 10:50 a.m. I’m not sure who decided on those times, but I’m almost certain it wasn’t my predecessor. Would he do that to himself? Surely not! It’s a mad rush to get from the 8:30 worship to the 9:30 worship every Sunday. I blow by people in the hallway between the sanctuary and the fellowship hall like I’m rushing to a fire (sorry, folks…you’ll just have to forgive me if all you get is a wave on the pass through). When I get to the fellowship hall on Sunday morning, the worship has already begun. Sometimes, I feel like an interloper. The time between the 9:30 worship and the 10:50 worship is not quite so bad. At least I have a few moments to stop and shake a few hands along the way (and make another stop I’ll not mention here). I guess if I preached shorter sermons I’d have more time. Well, that’s the purpose of writing a manuscript every week.

A manuscript really keeps me focused. A manuscript keeps me from chasing rabbits (okay, so I’ll chase an occasional one). A manuscript keeps me on time (and that’s important when running up and down the hall between worship). As I reflect on becoming a manuscript preacher, I hear the voice of my old preaching prof Donald Demeray as he advocated the benefits of writing a manuscript. He told us then that writing a manuscript would bring clarity to our thought process. Yeah, so maybe he was correct, but I was young and knew it all, so…

Another thing I’ve discovered is manuscripting has increased my preparation time. My sermon prep time has increased by a minimum of two hours a week. Oh, I still do the outline, but having done the outline, I still have to write it all out. Then, having written it out, I write and re-write until the message says exactly what I want it to say (there’s that clarity thing again). The hardest part of writing a manuscript is deciding what not to say! I tell you! I leave a lot of good stuff OUT of the sermon! I hear Dr. Demeray’s voice again saying, “You have to preach next Sunday, too.” I now just put the things I don’t say away until I come to the next sermon. Sunday does come every week, and dang, it feels like it comes every three days. Anyway, I used block 12 – 14 hours per week for sermon preparation. Now, I block 14 – 16 hours per week. Is that enough? Probably not, but do you know how hard it is to devote 14 – 16 hours per week to sermon preparation?

Does any of this sound like I’m complaining? I hope not, because I’m not. It’s just that I preached a sermon this past Sunday on mutual submission, and I left a LOT of stuff out of the sermon. Still, the sermon was 19 minutes long (Scripture reading does NOT count as sermon time, thank you very much!), and with communion and graduate recognition, we still ran a little over time (hey? cut me some slack—I’m not the perfect pastor!). I often wonder if I can say anything substantial in 17 – 19 minutes, but that’s usually all the time I have in preaching a sermon. I suppose my previous congregations wish I had been a manuscript preacher. I’m sorry they had to endure my 30 minute sermons.

I’ll stop now because I’m told that, like sermons, blog posts can also be too long. I’m searching for a lesson in the blog today, and I’m not sure I’m finding one, except maybe we’re never too old to learn new things. Not much of a lesson, but then again, I’m not the perfect pastor, so…

Until next time, keep looking up…

Author Julie Ackerman Link writes in the Our Daily Bread devotional this morning of a solitary tree that sat across from her office. She wondered why only one tree was left in the field. As she investigated the history she discovered that farmers would remove all the trees of the field, but would leave one to serve as a resting place when the summer sun began to take its toll.

That reflection was particularly poignant for me this morning as I feel like I have spent time under a “resting tree.” I went with a colleague to the Atlanta, GA area earlier this week for the Large Church Initiative. The Large Church Initiative (or, LCI as it is more often called) is an annual gathering of (primarily) United Methodist clergy and staff who pastor large churches across the country. The LCI was hosted by Mt. Pisgah UMC in Johns Creek, GA.

Large church pastors gather for three days to love on and be loved on by God through worship and preaching, to learn together, and to discuss and discover new ways of leading their congregations and the denomination. I must say (and already have in other venues) that I can’t say it was the best UM sponsored event I’ve ever been to, but I can’t remember a better one. From top to bottom (or, I should say from beginning to end) the three days together were incredible. The worship was excellent, the preaching was stellar, the facilities were comfortable, the hospitality was amazing, the food was awesome (they had a good Louisiana boy catering!), and the fellowship was nourishing.

The lineup of keynote speakers (yeah! they were really preachers) included Jorge Acevedo, Chip Ingram, Mark Batterson, Dr. Timothy Tennent, renowned fashion photographer Michael Belk, and the pastor of the congregation, Dr. Steve Wood. For me, the highlight of the preaching was Rev. Sharma Lewis, who preached the first day. She preached on power, and that was the power of the Holy Ghost (that’s right, I said Holy “Ghost”), and she issued an altar call to close the service. Talk about power! The worship ended with a powerful image of nearly 400 UM pastors kneeling in prayer at the altar of that church. I wouldn’t dare say it was all down hill from there, but Rev. Lewis set the bar awfully high for those who would preach after her.

Music for the event was great, as well. I was transported back to my roots very early in the event when The Nelons (an historic Southern Gospel group) led worship for the opening of the event. My! How they’ve changed through the years, but they did a fine job staying true to their roots while embracing a broader, more contemporary audience. They even joined with Contemporary Christian music artist Natalie Grant (In Better Hands, Your Great Name, etc) to lead worship Monday evening, and Tuesday morning Natalie Grant returned to lead an awakening worship experience to begin the day. The rest of our time together was led by One Sonic Society, a Nashville-based worship band known for songs including Forever Reign and Never Once. And, that was just the people anyone had heard of. The local church worship pastor was amazing, as well as their 150-voice worship choir and orchestra. The church even had an “artist-in-residence” (Regi Stone) who was a great worship leader in his own right. The organizers went all-out to make the time together meaningful and refreshing.

Of course, the Twitterverse was abuzz during the event. The organizers went all out to encourage folks to “tweet” throughout the event (#LCI2014), and tweet they did. Yes, I spent time in the Twitterverse with the rest of the “twits.” Here are a few of my tweets–if you were interested:

• “Sometimes you have to risk your reputation so God can establish His reputation.” Mark Batterson #LCI2014
• “Do you think Lazarus ever went back to put flowers on his own grave.” Mark Batterson #LCI2014
• “When you pray to God regularly, irregular things happen on a regular basis.” Mark Batterson #LCI2014
• “Jesus will not answer 100% of the prayers you don’t pray.” Mark Batterson #LCI2014

Obviously, I was quite taken with Mark Batterson’s message.

I left the event feeling restored and refreshed. I left feeling as if I’d been under a resting tree, but I left absolutely worn out! I don’t know…perhaps it was just too much. By the third day, we were running on adrenaline, I suppose. Monday started at 10 a.m., and ended after 9 p.m. Tuesday began at 9 a.m., and ended at 9 p.m. By Wednesday, it was all we could do to make it to the event by 9 a.m. It was exhausting and exhilarating, all at the same time. I made the statement that “restoring the soul sure took a toll on the body.” I really needed to come home to rest from my time under the resting tree. And, don’t even ask me why I slept on the floor all week. That’s another story altogether. Maybe I’ll tell you sometime. Right now…I’m just tired from all this resting, and I’ve still got to preach Sunday!

Until next time, keep looking up…

They always told me I’d be a TV preacher, and I always told them that was the last thing I wanted to be. Little did I know when I was appointed pastor at FUMC I would become a TV preacher. Not that I preach on TV, but Perceptions was in full swing, broadcasting Monday, Wednesday and Friday on KNOE at 6:45 a.m. It wasn’t long before I was hearing as I walked through the mall or ate lunch in a local restaurant, “Hey, I saw you on TV this morning.”

I took up the mantle of Perceptions from Rev. Stafford. The daily devotionals are encouraging and uplifting in nature, and many of them bring a smile to my face as I prepare for recording. In addition to the TV broadcasts, Perceptions is also heard on four area radio stations five days per week (KNOE FM 101.9, KZRZ FM 98.3, KJLO 104.1, and KXRR FM 106.1) near the 7:00 a.m. hour. Everywhere I go, people tell me how much they enjoy listening to Perceptions on their drive to work. Additionally, many of our first time guests indicate they heard about us on Perceptions. Perceptions is a vital outreach ministry for our congregation, and I’m blessed to be a part of that outreach.

We are making a transition in the Perceptions ministry of which I want to make you aware. Beginning Monday, April 28^th, Perceptions will no longer be seen on KNOE-TV. We will, however, now be heard on every FM radio station in the Twin Cities. We move from four to seven radio stations five days per week. Based on the demographics of the company we work with in hosting Perceptions in our area, we can reach more of the people we desire to reach by doing more radio. Who do we hope to reach? The un-churched and the de-churched. It’s a matter of raw numbers. We can reach more people on seven radio stations five days a week than we can with our current design, and we can do it less expensively, too. It’s a strategic decision that will allow us to continue to reach the un-churched in our community, and we can utilize the savings to design new outreach opportunities.

So, though my time as a TV preacher was limited to less than one year, I think I’ll be okay with that fact. If it means we have more guests as a result of Perceptions I’ll really be okay with it. Besides, now that we’re webcasting every Sunday, I’m an internet preacher! Maybe internet preachers won’t carry all the baggage that TV preachers do.

Until next time, keep looking up…

We live in a different world these days. I can remember a time, not too long ago, that cell phones were forbidden in worship. We would look askance at someone who had their cell phone out while worship was going on. “How rude!” we used to think. I don’t think that anymore. Cell phones are not just cell phones anymore.

I say that because this past Sunday I got tweeted during the service. Not only did I get tweeted, but I got facebooked, too (Is “facebooked” a word?). In case you’re wondering what I’m talking about, people were actually “tweeting” and posting on Facebook quotes from the message Sunday. One person “tweeted” (if you don’t know what “tweeted” is, you’re obviously not on Twitter), “Giving generously is a core value of a disciple of Jesus Christ,” while another person posted on Facebook, “Generosity is not measured by a particular dollar amount, but by the attitude with which we give.”

I’m most impressed by two things: First, that they were actually listening, and secondly, that they got the quotes right. I’ve discovered in 23 years of preaching that it doesn’t matter nearly so much what I say as it does what the congregation hears because often what I say and what you hear are two different things. Sometimes it happens because I don’t communicate well. Other times, it happens because the congregation isn’t listening. Most often, it occurs because the Holy Spirit does the interpreting. Remember, there are always three actors in every sermon—the preacher who prepares the message, the person who hears the message, and the Holy Spirit who carries the message.

I’m also impressed that the message of the Gospel can be instantaneously sent beyond the walls of the church building. Twitter and Facebook make it possible for my message to be a part of the social network of every person present who communicates via either of those media. That’s absolutely incredible! What it does is multiplies the reach of my message exponentially. That’s a humbling thought, and makes it that much more necessary to be careful in the words I choose to communicate the Gospel. One wrong word, either misspoken or misunderstood, can make all the difference in the world. But, still, Twitter and Facebook (as well as other forms of social media) can be wonderful vessels for sharing the Good News of salvation in Jesus Christ.

So, bring on your cell phones. Oh, but do silence them (we won’t ask you to leave like they do at the cinema) so as not to disturb your neighbor, and please, don’t play cards or Angry Birds. You might also keep the selfies to a minimum, too. But, please, use it for your bible, “tweet” me, or Facebook me, but whatever you do, share the Gospel. That’s what disciples do.

Until next time, keep looking up…

I began writing a blog when I was a District Superintendent as a discipline meant to replace the discipline of sermon writing. Since DS’s don’t preach every week, I found it was real easy to get out of the habit of sermon preparation. Seriously, a DS could have one good sermon and preach it in a different church each week. I’ve read some of the great evangelists of days gone by would have 8-10 good sermons and would preach them over and over for a year at a time. I rather like the challenge of preparing sermons week in and week out. That’s one of the elements of the work of ministry that energizes me. Blogging became a way for me to keep that habit of weekly preparation. It was also a way for me to vent sometimes, but I always tried to acknowledge that was what I was doing.

Now that I’m back in the local church, I’m not blogging nearly as often. Because blogging was a way to keep the habit of preparation, I don’t need it to as much anymore. So, as I’m thinking and praying this morning, I’m trying to capture a vision for what this blog might be. My readership is down now, and I think that’s because I’m not blogging as often. Of course, as I’ve looked back at my stats (yes, WordPress provides copious amounts of statistical information), I’ve discovered that the days I’ve had the most readers is on days I’ve written something that might be considered controversial–the only exception being my tribute post to Rev. Jimmie Pyles that appeared on “theunexpectedds.” That was the most read post I’ve ever written. I’m not writing too many posts that could be considered controversial these days. Oh! I could write some! But, because I’m a pastor (though, not a perfect one), I choose to remain silent on some of the issues facing both church and culture these days. Don’t think I don’t have my opinions. I just choose not to put them out for public consumption. Generating readers on a blog is nothing that strokes my ego.

I could post weekly, I suppose, if I wanted to share excerpts from the past Sunday’s sermon. After all, experts I read these days say for a pastor to remain relevant, he/she must have an on-line presence (I wonder if an expert is really an expert if it’s a self designation?). I suppose I blog to maintain that on-line presence, and that might be all the vision that’s needed for this blog, but I also think a good number of my readers are church members, and I don’t want the blog to simply be a re-hash of the Sunday sermon. But, then again, not everyone makes it to church on Sunday, and I do have followers who aren’t members, so…

As I seek a vision for this blog, let me share some thoughts on vision. They come as random thoughts from this random mind.

• Vision is acknowledging what is, and seeing what could be or should be.
• Vision is the ability to define a preferred future.
• Vision is birthed out of a time of reflection. Waiting time is not wasted time.
• God-given vision is birthed out of prayer. Prayer for a God-given vision should soon be followed by planning for God’s vision to become reality.
• A dream is not a vision. A dream is something we wish would happen. A vision is something we take action to make happen.
• Dreamers say, “I wish _________ would happen.” Visionaries ask, “How can I make __________ happen?”
• Dreamers ask God to do something. Visionaries ask God to do something through them.
• Nothing makes vision more concrete than writing it down on paper. If it’s not on paper, it’s probably just a dream.

I don’t know if any of those random thoughts help me define a preferred future for this blog, but there’s nothing quite like processing the whole matter by writing about it. And, hey? Someone reading this might actually share a thought that could become the vision for this blog. Or, my random thoughts on vision might help bring clarity to a vision God is birthing in a reader right now. That would be a worthy result, now wouldn’t it? Might even be a pretty good vision of what this blog could become. Yeah, now I’m just rambling.

So, I’ll close now. Experts also say a blog post should be between 600 and 800 words. I’m at my limit.

Until next time, keep looking up…

I woke up again this morning realizing how blessed I am. Yesterday was a horribly rainy day in Monroe, LA (actually I think it was a horribly rainy day across most of the Mid-South region). I had to drive through standing water on the roadways just to get to church. I knew worship attendance would be affected (seriously, if I wasn’t the pastor, I would have reconsidered myself!), and the big, big thing was yesterday was the day we re-scheduled our previously scheduled first-ever “block” party. The first time we scheduled our block party we cancelled because of an ice-storm. This time, I would expect Noah and his family to be the only ones to show up. I was wrong!

I met with some of our staff members early yesterday morning, and we determined that we couldn’t cancel again. We decided to move the event from the recreation center field next door into our fellowship hall. I tell you, the event was amazing. Denise Hardy (who pulls double duty as our facilities coordinator and our children’s minister) did a fantastic job in organizing the event. The children had an awesome time playing the games and eating hot dogs…and dancing (my, how they danced)! The music was incredible, too! We have such a talented congregation. Let’s see…Chris and Kim Winterman, Jonathan Putnam, Treina Landrum, Kelsey Malone, Toby Traylor, and even Mr. Beevums himself, Jonathon Bevil, provided us with some great tunes to groove by, and everyone, especially the children, were dancing til their hearts content. And, did I mention volunteers? What a great group of volunteers Denise had organized to put on the event. From set up to service to clean up, the volunteers were amazing and abundant! They served so faithfully, and on a day when the title of the day’s sermon was “Serving Faithfully.” It might have been conviction that had them serving so well, but I rather think it was faithfulness.

I’ve written about the incredible staff and volunteers who made the event possible. Now, let me tell you about the incredible congregation that showed up for the event on one of the dreariest days of the year in Monroe. I won’t say they turned out in droves, but there were over 200 people who waded water as deep as 10″ in the parking lot to share the fun of the afternoon. I’ll tell you how bad it was–my wife, Vanessa, even threatened to turn around and go back home as she tried to get out of our neighborhood. Water was over the road it several places, and she was scared to drive through it in some places, but she, like so many others soldiered through and showed up to enjoy the fun. Amazing! Simply amazing…from an incredible congregation.

I must admit…I was discouraged when I went to church yesterday in the rain. A lot of planning, and a lot of expense had gone into preparations for our block party. We wanted it to be an event we could use to engage our neighborhood. I’m not sure we engaged our neighborhood very much, but we sure engaged each other with food, fun and fellowship. Maybe that’s what we needed for the first one. Let’s call it a dry run (did you catch the pun?) for future block parties–hopefully on days that are filled with sunshine and even more people. I was not, however, discouraged when I made it home last night. I was filled with gratitude and wonder as I considered how blessed I am to pastor such a great congregation. And, I was blessed by how their faithfulness helped to make yesterday the greatest rainy day ever…

Until next time, keep looking up…