Getting Involved

When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to the disciple, "Here is your mother." From that time on, this disciple took her into his home (John 19:26-27).

The last thing I need right now is one more thing to do. From conversations with friends and church members, I suspect many echo that sentiment. There is just so much to do. Our work seems to get more challenging by the day. Our children’s over-scheduled activities can having us running morning, noon, and night. Some of us are caught in the challenging role-reversal of middle age and find ourselves being parents to our parents. Others battle frightening sickness. In the midst of all of this, we seek to maintain our relationships with family, friends, and our faith community. So I don’t need one more thing to do...except for those times when I do. Consider...

The words of Jesus included above challenge me in a surprising way. The "words" are the third of Jesus’ "seven last words from the cross," the seven last recorded sayings of Jesus before he died. In many ways, they are like a "last will and testament," where Jesus takes care of things that are important to him. As Jesus hangs on the cross, he looks down and sees his mother, Mary, standing there watching her son die. It is not difficult to imagine that Jesus is concerned about Mary’s needs, and simply asks one of his disciples to look after her. But could there be more going on here? I believe there is. Jesus lived in a very male-dominated culture. In that day, a widow was dependent on the men in her life (generally the oldest son) to take care of her. On the cross, Jesus recognizes that Mary was vulnerable and would need someone to take care of her. So he tells Mary and John to be mother and son to one another. In an act of loving compassion for his mother, Jesus protects Mary’s vulnerability by asking John to step in, and for the two to be family to one another.

Now, as I’ve said, I don’t really need one more thing to do...except for those times when I do. What I mean by this statement is that it’s really not enough for me to hope my church and my faith can be an oasis from all of the world’s problems, a "haven of rest" in the midst of a troubled world. It’s nice when it can be, but there are simply times when for the sake of other people, I need to step into their vulnerability and be family with them. Perhaps someone lives in a dysfunctional relationship and needs a good friend, mentor, older brother, or father. Perhaps a child has no family to care for him or her, and needs to be adopted into a loving family. Perhaps an elderly or disabled neighbor needs someone to take the place of children who live hundreds of miles away. Either way there are times when for someone else’s sake, I really do need one more thing to do, and am asked to rearrange my life around their needs. For the other person, it could be a matter of quality of life, even life or death. For me, it is a matter of faithful discipleship.

When Martin Luther King, Jr. was finishing divinity school, he had several job options. Most were in the north, where he could either be a pastor or college professor without the inconveniences and humiliation of segregation. One option, however, was at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama. Both King and his wife wrestled with the choices they had, because the opportunities in the north were very attractive. They could have escaped segregation. In finally making the decision to accept the pastorate in Montgomery, King says,

"We came to the conclusion that we had something of a moral obligation to return [to the South]—at least for a few years. The South, after all, was our home. Despite its shortcomings, we had a real desire to do something about the problems that we had felt so keenly as youngsters. We never wanted to be considered detached spectators. Since racial discrimination was most intense in the South, we felt that some...who had received a portion of their training in other sections of the country should return to share their broader contacts and educational experience. Moreover...we had the feeling that something remarkable was unfolding in the South, and we wanted to be on hand to witness it" (The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr., pp. 44-45).

King was invited to enter into the vulnerability that black Americans in the South experienced, and work to change their suffering. The results of that work are well documented. So as you look at your day planner and to-do lists and the people, needs, and opportunities around you, I leave you with a simple question: do you need one more thing to do? Consider your answer carefully!

Funeral Service

Today, our congregation gathered to celebrate the life of Leon Michael. At the time of his death, Leon was Central's oldest living member, at 97 years of age. Here is the Scripture text and message delivered at his memorial service on March 17.

Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you—the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

When you live in a place such as Roanoke, the "hills" are a great source of strength and a reminder of the things that are important to you.

On Tuesday, I flew home from Chicago. It was overcast most of the way; I saw very little ground during the entire flight. As we descended from the sun-lit sky above the clouds, there was a several minute period when the plane was entirely surrounded by clouds. I wondered when and where we would emerge from the clouds. When we got low enough, I recognized Salem, VA. I looked around and saw familiar sights; the Red Sox field; Lewis-Gale and Roanoke Memorial Hospitals; the Wachovia Tower; and a bit farther on William Fleming High School. But what always catches my eye flying into Roanoke are the hills. Mill Mountain; Roanoke Mountain; Sugar Loaf Mountain; Read Mountain. When we see these places, we are aware of one thing: we are home.

Psalm 121 contains so much more than nice, comforting, poetic words; the Psalm is highly contextual for the people who lived in that day. Because we tend to view the Psalms as comforting words to hold internally, it is easy to overlook the very real choice presented in verse 1: I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come? From where will it come, indeed?

In the Psalmist's day, the hills contained both dangers and sources of hope. As one traveled through the hills, dangers could be found in the rough paths that might make a traveler stumble, or the heat of the sun, or the loneliness of the night. Danger might come in the form of the bandits, robbers and wild animals that hid in the various nooks and crannies of the hills. Travel through these hills was not safe, because a person never knew for certain who or what might be waiting for them just beyond the next bend in the road.

This is largely a foreign concept for us, especially here in Roanoke. If we were going to hike from Rivers Edge park and to the top of Mill Mountain, there really would be no sense of worry. There are two paved roads, multiple paths, and the police are just a cell phone 9-1-1 call away. It would be pretty safe—unless someone had gone up to Mill Mountain Zoo ahead of us and let the animals out. Then we might think differently! Suddenly a trip that was challenging only because of the height of the mountain would take on a different reality.

But that was not all; there was also an alleged source of hope in the mountains. In the very mountains the Psalmist had in mind—and maybe was looking at when he or she wrote—were all manner of false gods. An offering at the shrine of the sun god might help you fight off the heat; an offering at the shrine of the moon god might help you battle your struggles through the night; participate in some other religious ritual for extra protection from some other god.

When the Psalmist says, I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where will my help come? he’s asking a very relevant question. From where does our help come?

As I mentioned earlier, when I lift up my eyes to the mountains we can see right outside these doors, I am reminded of home. I’m reminded of faith and family, friends and familiar places. These are the things that keep me grounded, remind me of who I am, and remind me of whose I am.

Knowing Leon, it is easy to realize that he connected with these things as well. The part of Leon I knew was the one who had a twinkle in his eye, always willing to share a laugh, joke and kid around. Leon had the most prominent twinkle in his eye that I have ever known. Watching that twinkle disappear was one of the ways I knew last Thursday that he wouldn’t be with us long; from visiting him the first of February and again the first of March his health had noticeably declined but the twinkle was still there; but from just Sunday to Thursday of last week, the twinkle left. I always enjoyed that twinkle, and the smile that came with it.

Some persons knew Leon as someone who loved to play golf and was one of a group that helped Blue Hills golf club get started. Leon was an avid golfer, and has a plaque commemorating the day he shot 85 at age 85. Another connection that he and I shared was growing up in Rockingham County, VA. We often talked about his sports-playing days in Bridgewater.

Others talk about his friendships with various people at Central; including a group of ten persons who liked to get together for dinner and trips. Willis and Eunice Bateman; Waller and Bernice O’Donnell, Dick and Miriam Coleman; Jack and Mildred Overfelt and Leon and Ruth Michasel were known as good friends. It’s hard to find just one or two friends; but to find a group of ten like that who spent time together is a special thing. Today we realize that just two of that group remain: Eunice Bateman and Ruth Michael.

Leon’s connections to faith will also be one way we remember him. It was fairly easy to go back through old directories and find his name; the mid-1960’s saw Leon serving Central as a deacon, other roles certainly existed as well. We could mention he was Central’s oldest living member.

But a story of greater importance was told to me yesterday. Doris Garst reminded me of the garland that hangs from our church balcony each Advent. It stretches the length of the front of the balcony, draped appropriately, with a string of lights running through it. It is easily the most prominent part of our Advent display, and is a special blessing at the Christmas Eve candle lighting service. Doris mentioned that she makes a special effort to stand near the front of the church during the candle lighting, to gather the full effect of the lights. Many others comment that the church looks so bare when that particular piece is taken down; something is noticeably missing. We often wish we could leave it up for a few weeks more.

That’s the way it is with people’s passing, as well. Someone is noticeably missing, and we often wish we could have a few weeks more. But it’s here when the Psalmist’s question comes directly into view: I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? It’s a good question, indeed.

Retired pastor and current author Eugene Peterson says this: "Some people would have us believe that the moment we say no to the world and yes to God, all our problems are solved, all our questions answered, all our troubles over. Nothing can disturb the tranquility of the soul at peace with God. Nothing can interfere with the blessed assurance that all is well between me and my Savior. Nothing and no one can upset the enjoyable relationship that has been established by faith in Jesus Christ. We Christians are among that privileged company of persons who don’t have accidents, who don’t have arguments with our spouses, who aren’t misunderstood by our peers, whose children do not disobey us."

He continues, "Is that what you believe? If it is, I have some incredibly good news for you. You are wrong." (A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, p. 37)

In place of that, we have a God who is faithful. I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help—and I know your help, Ruth—comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. God is faithful, and will see you through.

20 Questions for the Church

I’m glad God called me to be a pastor. I love the church because it is God’s chosen instrument to advance God’s kingdom in the world. Think about it for a minute: our churches are the places where we work so that God’s kingdom will come, "on earth as it is in heaven." And while I am excited about denominational ministry, ecumenical church work, community-wide initiatives, and other events like these, I believe that ultimately the local church is where the real action is. Every Sunday morning, Wednesday night, and whenever else the local church meets in the presence of God, we have the opportunity to be shaped as disciples of Jesus.

Part of my love for the church includes asking hard questions about the church—how things were decided in the past, how obedient we are being in the present, and what the church will look like in the future. That is what this article is. Hard questions that I think the church needs to be talking about. Questions that ask us if we are being relevant to the issues of the local community and the world. Questions that help us make sure we are serious about the right things. Questions that make us look in the mirror to ask ourselves if we are being obedient to God. These are by no means all of the questions, just a few that are on my radar screen right now.

I must admit that not everyone is as excited about questions like these as I am, but I hope you’ll give them a chance. Furthermore, I’d be delighted to hear your answers to some or all of these questions, and what questions you think need to be on the list. If you’d like to discuss them, send me an email at pastortim@central.roacoxmail.com. If you answer enough of the questions, I may even buy you a cup of coffee so we can talk some more!

1. Why is it that more people will attend a little-league ball game than a prayer meeting?
2. What would happen if Christian parents told their kids’ ball coaches that they weren’t going to play on Sunday?
3. Why is it that more Christians will attend a church carry-in meal than a prayer meeting?
4. Do we have enough corporate prayer in our churches to honestly complain that prayer is not allowed in our schools?
5. What does the church have to offer someone who has learned to live without the church, but maintains a belief in God?
6. How will the church minister to the increasing number of people whose job requires that they work on Sunday?
7. If your church building was suddenly gone, would your neighborhood notice?
8. What is the church’s response to persons who are willing to resort to verbal or physical violence in an effort to have their way?
9. Over the past ten years, our country has spent billions of dollars to wage war in Afghanistan and Iraq. If the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks had never happened, would we have been willing to spend the same amount of money to wage peace? Or to improve education? Or on something else?
10. Downtown Roanoke has persons living in new condos in close proximity to homeless persons. Do you consider this a welcome reality about our city?
11. How do we best minister to the homeless persons in our midst?
12. Why is the divorce rate higher among Christians than among those who are not Christian?
13. Why is Sunday morning still the most segregated time in America?
14. Is there a way the church can welcome homosexual persons into their midst without splitting the church?
15. How much do you know about the vote taking place in southern Sudan, and how our Christian brothers and sisters there are living?
16. How much do you know about the persecution Iraqi Christians are currently experiencing?
17. What gets you excited about your church?
18. How can you get someone else excited about that?
19. What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus Christ?
20. If you aren’t comfortable with some of the answers you have to these questions, what needs to change?

Is "us vs. them" the only way?

For some time now, I’ve been concerned that for every problem people can only see two possible answers: "mine" and "wrong". At least since the 9/11 terrorist attacks, we’ve been led to believe that everyone is either "for us" or "against us". No middle ground, no third option is available. "Kill them over there before they kill us over here" has become our national story. "Us vs. them" is the lens through which we view every issue.

Of course, no one denies that there are those persons in the world who seek to commit crimes of one kind or another in the United States. My concern, however, is that one problem with an "us vs. them" mentality is that it eventually begins to filter down into all aspects of our living. With our "us vs. them" lenses on, we lose the ability to see that issues might be more complex than we currently imagine. We lose the ability to think and act creatively to solve some very real problems in our communities. And in all the shouting at one another, we lose the ability to listen to one another as individuals made in the image of God.

Recently, the state of Arizona passed a very strong anti-immigration law. As I understand it, the law would require police officers to consider a persons immigration status as part of a traffic stop. Again, as I understand it, the law would make it illegal for churches to give financial assistance to persons who are in the US illegally. It’s another case of "are you one of us, or are you one of them?" Without realizing it, we are being conditioned to look upon everyone with suspicion before we attempt to see them as persons made in the image of God.

But is there another lens we can use? I believe there is. It's the "face to face" lens that is the way of Jesus. With the "face to face" lens on, we see persons as the New Testament sees them: as either a "brother or sister in Christ," a "neighbor," or possibly even as an "enemy." But in each case, our "face to face" lens helps us see that this is a person with whom relationship is possible, if we trust the Jesus way.

For the case of (documented or undocumented) immigrants, what might our "face to face" lens help us see?

• Might we see someone who came to the United States because they couldn’t find a way to feed their families in their home country?
• Might we see someone who is willing to come to the United States to do a job that many Americans won’t do?
• Might we see someone who came to the United States as a very young child with their parents? Someone who has lived their entire life in the US, gotten an education and are now holding down a job? (And while we're here, where exactly would we "send this person back" to, anyway?)
• And might Christians remember that forgiveness and mercy are appropriate responses to the offense of illegal immigration? Can we imagine ourselves saying, "do the hard work of becoming a citizen. Learn our history, contribute to our society, pay your taxes, go to church, obey the law. We forgive you, and welcome you."

Rather than an "us vs. them" narrative, the church needs to lead the way in living out a "face to face" narrative. My prayer is that the church can learn to look into another person's eyes, and listen to their story first, before we assume we know all the answers to everyone else's problems. "Face to face" not "us vs. them."

Amen.

From the mouths of babes...

The children of Central Church of the Brethren provided the content for today's post.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. During the Children's Story, I shared this passage of Scripture with the kids:

Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. "Honor your father and mother"—which is the first commandment with a promise—"that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth." (Ephesians 6:1-3).

After reading the passaged, I asked the kids, "what are 5 ways that you can honor your mother?" This is their list...

1. Listen to her.
2. Don't fight with your sisters.
3. Help with chores.
4. Don't mess with other people's stuff.
5. Give mom flowers.

Not bad advice. I hope each of you can find time---all year long---to honor your mother in these ways.

How is your attitude?

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One piece of advice I heard from time to time while growing up was "Watch your attitude." It was helpful advice, even though it was generally unappreciated at the moment it was given.

Our attitude is important, because it is one of the few qualities of our life that we can control. Think about it. You have no control over what people think of you. You have very little control over how people respond to you. You have no control over the strange and unexpected things that happen throughout your life. But you can control how you respond to them!

Our attitude is a choice. No one says it is an easy choice, but it is a choice.

Like many people, I often find myself struggling with my attitude. It is easy to allow outside circumstances dictate my responses. Trouble is, whatever I'm feeling on the inside will eventually make its way to the outside. When my attitude is bad, I will eventually behave badly toward other persons. That's unfair to them, and unhealthy for me.

So what can we do? Are there ways to change our attitude? The next time you're struggling with your attitude, consider the following steps to improve your attitude....

Remember that God is with you. In the New Testament book of Romans, the Apostle Paul says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28). The next time you're struggling with a bad attitude toward something someone else has done, remember this verse. Can you imagine that in the midst of whatever is happening in your life, God is working for you good?

1. Nurture your relationship with God. Our relationship with God is like any of our other relationships: if we want it to be strong, we must spend time together. Your relationship with God will become a means toward a changed, positive attitude if you nurture it. Spend time in church, in prayer, in study, and in fellowship with other Christians.
2. Identify issues that rob you of a good attitude. What is it that robs you of a good attitude? Is it certain people? Certain circumstances? What can you do to change those circumstances? Identify these, and be aware of them. Write them down and let them be your personal attitude adjustment plan.
3. Finally, control your thought life. Philippians 4:8 says "Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." Do you do this? When you find yourself being consumed with negative thoughts, invite positive thoughts into your mind, and think about these things.

I give thanks to God that the unhealthy, sinful parts of our life can be removed---even our unhealthy, negative attitudes. May God help you along the way to a good attitude.

Bridges, Barriers and Bombs

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Yesterday, I was the invited speaker at the Roanoke City Public Schools "Faith Community" event. My purpose was to encourage Roanoke City congregations to see partnering with local elementary schools as part of their overall outreach. The following is the text of my message . . .

One of the critical questions the faith community needs to answer in this generation is "how will we define our relationship to those who are not part of our faith communities?" It might be with those who do not attend our worship services—or anyone’s worship services. Or it might be toward institutions like the local school system. Either way, how will our various faith communities define our relationships with those outside of our four walls?

When I look at the world, I see three options currently vying for our imaginations: bridges, barriers, and bombs. If you give this issue a moment of thought, you can easily see illustrations of all three.

Bombs is the metaphor that makes the nightly news: the extremists’ car bomb on a roadside in Iraq; the bullet that murdered Martin Luther King, Jr. at a Memphis hotel; the arsonists torch burning church buildings in Texas. The problem of those who resort to the bombs of violence to relate to the world around them is a necessary challenge for our faith communities to deal with; it does, however, take us too far afield this afternoon.

The metaphor of barriers is a more likely option for faith communities, and in some regards it is the prevailing metaphor of church-state relations in the United States. The doctrine of "separation of church and state" seems to establish an impregnable barrier between the faith community and the communities around us. Even though we walk the same streets, shop at the same stores, have children who walk in both spheres, the barrier of law would seem to say that these two communities cannot—and perhaps ought not—come together for any purpose.

Ironically, you will find those on both sides of the barrier who affirm this separation. Some on the faith side see involvement in the community as a either a compromise of their message or an abrogation of their duty; those on the state side see involvement with the faith community as meddling in things that are a personal choice.

But might it be time for a new metaphor to capture our imagination? We reject the metaphor of bombs outright; we understand the metaphor of barriers, but can we hope for something better?

The nine congregations that make up Old Southwest Congregations in Action, in fact, employ a different metaphor for their work. We have chosen bridges as our way of relating to the communities around us.

Jeremiah 29:7 is an important text for understanding this metaphor. The Israelite people are in exile in Babylon, and are sorely tempted to retreat within their walls and erect a barrier between them and everyone around them. But then the prophet Jeremiah sends a message:

But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. Jeremiah 29:7

We may not be in exile. In fact, Roanoke is our home. But the message is no different. We are connected to the people around us, and it is imperative that the faith community of Roanoke get the tool box out of the workshop and build more bridges in this city.

What will the faith community say to the fact that there are hungry children within an arms length of our meeting houses?

. . . When the needs for future prison space is predicted based on the 3rd grade reading level of the community, what story will be told of Roanoke, VA?

. . . When the budget gets cut and teachers are laid off and recent academic advancement is put at risk, can the faith community stand up and say, "not on our watch! We’ll be there."

Congregations in Action builds bridges with our elementary schools. Right now, a total of 25 bridges into six elementary schools. Specifically, we ask members of our congregations to give 30 minutes - 1 hour of their time every week or two to . . .

* Read to a classroom of students, then go to lunch with them
* Tutor a child struggling in math or reading
* Provide scholarships for field trips.
* Go shopping at the food bank for the backpack meal program,

enabling hungry children to eat a bit better on the weekends.
* Mentor a child, being a reliable, steady friend for them
* Bring a meal to the teachers
* Volunteer at the annual fun day
* Provide school supplies in the fall

We serve because we understand there is a need. And there is. We cannot be blind to the fact that Jeremiah’s message is correct, regardless of your faith persuasion. Our welfare depends on one another. We are more than a random collection of individuals who happen to call Roanoke home. Our welfare as a community will be enhanced when all have opportunity to share in the common opportunities and possibilities of this time and place.

But this is more than just a one-way relationship. It’s not just the about a first grader who has someone to read to him or her, or a fifth grader who passes the math SOL in part because someone was there each week to tutor them. Our volunteers benefit as well. We become aware of the amazing children who live near us, and the potential they have to do some magnificent things in the future, if someone will give them a little extra help along the way. Best of all, our volunteers fall in love with these children. The children aren’t statistics anymore; they’re persons, with a name, and a smile, and a story. Love is a common welfare that will never be measured in dollars and cents.

There is a tremendous need for this kind of bridge building, and I want to take this opportunity to challenge you to get involved as well. Our congregations know that "CIA" is not the only show in town; we’re not the only people volunteering in schools. But what we can do is help coalitions of congregations come together to do more than any one of us can do on our own. We are not the only model, but we are a model that works.

My promise to you is that if you are interested; if you will go back to your congregation and get one or two people from your congregation—and even better, one or two more congregations—one of us will come and visit with you, and help you get started. I want to challenge you to commit today. There are brochures and a sign up sheet on the back table. Go back there and find out more. Come talk to me afterwards, and lets talk. Friends, our community needs us.Loosely translated, God says, "Build bridges. Like it or not, you are connected with the people around you. Get up and get to work."