Thistles & Survival

Well, we survived Mt. Mitchell and the fellowship was great. I went up a few days early which was wonderful. I got to read some novels and theology and warmed by the campfire. The rest of the group came in this past Monday morning. We set up camp, ate a glorious chicken bog that warmed up our bodies, and had time for a hike and great discussion about church, life, and a little bit of everything else. Then... the bottom fell out of the skies. At 11:30 p.m. Monday night the deluge began. All but two got thoroughly soaked in their tents or hammock. The one in the hammock had a snug tarp but the rain was blowing in horizontally so the tarp had very little effect. We tried to hang in there until daylight but then things got worse. It POURED! We packed up in the downpour as fast as we could, but it was awful. If you have ever had to pack up wet tents and soaked sleeping bags, you know what I mean. We trekked down the mountain and drove to Marion, North Carolina. There we found a restaurant for breakfast. We dried out as best we could and ate a hearty meal. I must admit that it helped to turn on my electric seat warmer to aid the drying process. According to the Mt. Mitchell Weather Station, Tropical Storm/Depression "Fay" dropped 10 inches of rain on Mt. Mitchell. Whew!

Well, being back in Columbia has been eventful and the usual - not quite a 10 inch downpour, but close. I've been catching up on the unending and regular duties of a District Superintendent which is why I put up the shot of a thistle I took on Monday from the edge of the Old Mitchell trail. Often this call and that of any pastor is like running through thistles - prickly stuff happens on a regular unpredictable basis. I can't even tell you some of the stuff I have to deal with because of its confidential nature. Suffice it to say, it ain't pretty sometimes. Very often it's sad and painful. But, thanks be to God, sometimes being in this office is absolutely wonderful - seeing churches dream new dreams, pastors and other clergy flourish in their ministries, and the Kingdom growing before your very eyes as you hear success stories and dream about new ways of doing ministry across the district.

However, it's my "thistle-times" that put both good and bad in perspective. Thistles remind me that though life can be painful and prickly, even the thistles can be used for good. As a matter of fact, the reason that thistles are the national symbol of Scotland is because thistles were an early warning system for the Scots as their enemies the English stepped on them and yelped in pain. Thistles like "Fay" and all the other things that grab me because of the tyranny of the urgent, can actually throw my yelping soul further into the hands of God. For that I'm grateful as I remember that beautiful thistle before the flood came down. Thistles help us survive!

Companions with Christ

I’m about to head up again to Mt. Mitchell with a group of the Columbia District clergy. I’m going to head up first and get us some good spots for camping. We’ll be sharing together from Dietrich Bonheoffer’s book Life Together. We will be companions and colleagues as we sit around the fire, talk, and break bread together. The word companion literally means “bread with” or “breadmate.” The main Companion with us on the mountain will be Jesus.

Who is Jesus? The answer to this question has ranged from great teacher to God. We have all experienced Christ in a variety of ways. He has certainly been my friend, teacher, healer, savior, and Lord. But, Jesus is more than all of these. He is both God and human. He can identify with what we go through because He is one of us, and He can save us because He is God. With Jesus, we can have it both ways! In Christ, we can sing, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” and “Crown Him with Many Crowns.” He is both King and Servant.

Some people come to Jesus as the Candy of Life. I saw this especially back in the late ‘60’s and early 70’s with the “Jesus Movement.” Jesus was just another piece of candy to addictive people like me. Remember the Doobie Brothers song “Jesus is Just Alright with Me”? Jesus was just another route to a counter-culture lifestyle. It was a candy-loving group-think attitude that saw Jesus as a way to get a “natural high.” This Candy-of-Life mentality about Jesus was short-lived for many. As long as it was hip to be a “Jesus Freak,” then it was cool. When cross-carrying was introduced, a lot of the Jesus Movement evaporated.

Other people think of Jesus as the Medicine of Life. I have heard this called “Fox Hole Religion” because a lot of people come to Jesus when they’re in trouble, whether it is in a literal fox hole on a battlefield or in a hospital room. Jesus is the Medicine of Life, but unfortunately there are many who quit taking the medicine when they get well, get home, or otherwise escape from whatever their predicament is. In other words, seeing Jesus only as the Medicine of Life can dissipate when things smooth out.

So, Jesus didn’t call Himself either the Candy of Life or the Medicine of Life. He called Himself, “The Bread of Life.” Bread is more than something we need once in awhile when we want something sweet to tide us over. We can’t live off candy. A candy bar on the road can get me by until I get home, but then I need a real meal. Jesus is the Bread of Life – the real meal, the real deal. He is also more than the Medicine of Life. Sure, He wants to heal us, but we will woefully miss the richness of the life that Christ offers us if we only want Him to be our Medicine. Jesus wants us well, and to stay connected to Him. He isn’t a Z-pack or a 30 day dose that we take until we get well. He is the Bread of Life that will sustain us forever.

The late Bill Hinson, in his book The Power of Holy Habits, says this about Jesus as the Bread of Life: “I heard an Armenian describe the bread of life. He said that Westerners do not understand what Jesus was saying when he said, 'I am the Bread of Life.' In the Middle East, bread is not just something extra thrown in at a meal. It is the heart of every meal. They have those thin pieces of pita bread at every meal. Those strict people would not think about taking forks and putting them in their mouths. To put an object in your mouth defiles it. You certainly would not take a fork out and put it in again and go on defiling yourself like that. Instead, you break off a piece of the bread, pick up your food with it and eat it. Indeed, the only way you can get to the main dish, he said, is with the bread. Jesus was saying that the only way you can come to life is through him. That is why he was saying - I am the Bread of Life; I am the only way to come to life."

So who is Jesus to us? Is He the heart of the meal, the all-sustaining basis for our very existence? Sure He can thrill us as the Candy of Life, and He can heal us as the Medicine of Life. But, what He does best and in the most enduring fashion is feed us “’til we want no more.”

Focus and Mottoes

Proverbs abound in our culture. New ones are as fresh as the new television season with their Madison Avenue’s pitches. Slang words and phrases are quickly assimilated into our common vernacular at the speed of our web browser or email carrier. Perhaps we all have statements that we make when we walk in and out of the house. We have little mottoes and mantras that define who we are or where we’re from. Decals on cars declare OIB (Ocean Isle Beach) or PI (Pawley’s Island). One of the best symbols of our fair state is the Palmetto and Crescent that graces everything from vehicles to t-shirts.

I have been watching the Olympics with great interest amazed at the dedication and determination that these athletes have exhibited. Of course Michael Phelps’ feat of 8 Gold medals is impressive, and so is 41-year-old Dara Torres’ Silver medal accomplishment. I have especially liked listening to their post-event interviews although I’m a little bored with Phelps’ standard line, “Once again, I’m at a loss for words.” He has said some remarkable things like, “If you you’re determined, you can accomplish your dreams.” Given his ADHD diagnosis, that says a lot to everyone. Focus is important, or how else do you explain Dara Torres’ ability to juggle motherhood, family, and swimming? Notice the focused beam of light in this morning's webcam shot from Mt. Mitchell. Where this is going is what would I say in my post-life interview or, better yet, what would others say was my focus, my mission statement?

Life mottoes and symbols give us an identity. They provide us with instant affinity groups. They should all pass the t-shirt test. If they can’t fit on a t-shirt, then they’re too long. Before t-shirts we put them on tombstones and called them “epitaphs.” Someone once said that life mottoes or mission statements should be short enough to be memorized, but long enough to be memorable. How appropriate!

I’ve seen some remarkable life mottoes in recent years, from comedians to poets. Lily Tomlin purportedly claimed, “We're all in this together ­– alone,” as her motto. Poet John Gay’s epitaph reads: “Life is jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it.” There’s the humorous and the sublime. You decide which is which: “Some days you’re a pigeon. Some days you’re a statue,” and “God give me work until my life shall end and life until my work is done.”

What sign and symbols will be on your tombstone? Could it be we’re writing them right now whether we like it or not? Joanne Lynn and Joan Harrold in their Handbook for Mortals give some guidance in writing life themes. They call them the “Four R’s for the Spirit.” First is remembering. They ask us to take time to reflect on life and all of its happenings, both accomplishments and failures. Reassessing comes next. They suggest that we should ask what our lives have added up to, or who we really were, then share these thoughts with the people who know and love us. The third “R” is reconciling where we try to be at peace with our own imperfections. Last they suggest that we try reuniting, being at peace with others, especially those we love. As they put it about reconciling, “It is important to come together with family and friends, when you can, and to have the chance to say farewells.” All four “R’s” can aid us in getting our epitaph written before our death rather than after.

I want to be a person intent on memorable missions, creating an epitaph worth remembering. Then after I’m gone people won’t have to wonder about what to put on my tombstone. Maybe I should go ahead and ask them now what they have in mind. Better yet, it’s not too late for me to make a revision.

Garden of Eden or New Jerusalem

With Charge Conferences about to crank up I cannot help but reflect on the tendency I see in struggling churches to look back to the “good old days” rather than to the future. It’s a desire to go back to the Garden of Eden when as Easter People we’re supposed to be headed to the New Jerusalem. It’s a risky thought to look to the future, but looking backwards makes for crooked furrows whether in plowing or being a church. It’s no accident that God put cherubim with flaming swords to guard the entrance to Eden. If we could get back there after having eaten from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, and then get another chance to partake of the Tree of Life, too, then we would be doomed forever to know good and evil. The Gospel takes us to a better place, a New Jerusalem, where we can live forever in Christ knowing only good. We need to press past the boundaries of the past, celebrate the good of our history, but keep as our primary objective the risky but Christ-like adventure of the future.

Playing things safe is a natural tendency for many people. Taking risks has bitten us more often than not. Armchair quarterbacking has been replaced by the safer second-guessing that comes from the sofa. “It’s too dangerous!” is a good thing to say to precocious children, but, if we’re not careful, we may oversell fear to the point that children, or any of us, aren’t given the permission to risk and fail. Risking failure is at the heart of maturity. Wisdom comes from experience, and the only way to get experience is to try something.

Risk-taking for growth is so counter-intuitive. It goes so much against the grain of our “Be Safe!” society. One of the most frightening experiences to me was extremely counter-intuitive. I was in a seminary course called, “Wilderness Experience for Christian Maturity.” I should have gathered from the title what I might be in for, but naively I went along hoping for a nice camping trip in upstate New York’s Adirondack Mountains.

Everything was fine with the hiking. It was cold, but not unbearable. Even as this was in the middle of May, there was chest deep snow along the trail through some of the passes. After a week of hiking and camaraderie we had our first stretching experience. Each of us was given a piece of plastic for a tarp and then led off into the woods where we would be alone for three days. I didn’t know where I was. No one was allowed any food so that we had to fast. I did have a water bottle that was surreptitiously refilled each night by someone I never saw or heard.

The first half day was okay with my mind focused on settling in, setting up my tarp, unrolling my gear, etc. That night was a little scarier. We weren’t allowed flashlights, and it was literally pitch-black. The stars were amazing, but the rustling sounds of wildlife kept me on guard. During the night some animal came barreling through my open-ended shelter. It was probably one of the many tiny chipmunks that inhabited the area, but, in my mind, it sounded like it was the size of a wild boar, something impossible in the Adirondacks.

The next day was spent reading the Bible and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s little book, Life Together. What was constantly on my mind frankly wasn’t what I was reading. I kept thinking about food and wondering what time it was. The group leaders confiscated my watch before leading me out into the wilderness. The food issue also possessed my thoughts. I tore through my backpack hoping that a stray M&M had escaped from my gorp bag before it had been absconded. There was nothing to be found. That day lasted forever, it seemed. I was frustrated in every way: bored, grumpy, and totally out of sorts.

The next day was more of the same until mid-day, at least my best guess of mid-day. Finally I gave up on hunger. I quit thinking about time. Nature and God finally pierced my notions of time and space with the extreme beauty of nature and God’s own quiet closeness. The sounds and the silence of the forest became relaxing and exhilarating friends. My reading of the Bible and Bonhoeffer was suddenly charged with a clarity that I had never known before. When darkness came I slept with a contentment that was rare.

Three days of solitude and fasting ended the next morning as I was led back to the group gathering area. All of us were treated to lentil soup and hot tang to reacquaint our stomachs to food. Everyone seemed cleansed, purified, and peaceful. It was great and it was needed. The risk was worth its reward, and it was good preparation for the unforeseen adventures that lay ahead.

Setting Sun or Beginning of a New Day

The sun in setting on summer. I rushed off to Mt. Mitchell for one last solo trip Sunday afternoon and got back yesterday around lunch. The photo is a shot from just beyond my campfire looking south toward Old Fort and East Asheville. The temps dropped down to the upper 40's but were absolutely wonderful during the day.

It was a great time to process the whole episcopal election experience and spiritually prepare for my return as Columbia D.S. The sun is NOT setting on my ministry in Columbia and S.C. I read some helpful books during my time around the fire. Of course they are follow-ups to Edwin Friedman's Generation to Generation and Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix. This weekend I read Peter Steinke's Congregational Leadership in Anxious Times: Being Calm and Courageous No Matter What, and two of Roberta Gilbert's books on Systems Thinking: Extraordinary Relationships and The Eight Concepts of Bowen Theory. Before you begin to think I'm a nerd of sorts, I did read a mystery novel The Woods by Harlan Coben. It was a good read.

Actually, all of the books meshed well. Even The Woods had a lot of systems thinking in it, the interrelatedness of life and how to stay connected and be an individual at the same time. Sounds like our United Methodist system. Our polity gives title to church property to the local church, but it is held in trust for the denomination. Our Connection is a family system!

Here's the rub, how do we keep from becoming separate silos of ministry doing our own thing without losing our sense of who we are as an integral part of the United Methodist Connection? Paying apportionments certainly isn't the best way to be connected. Better ways in my mind include fellowship and worship/mission opportunities for laity and clergy to connect and share, in a class meeting-like style, what works and what doesn't in any given setting. My hope in the Columbia District is to provide lots of these opportunities. We will build a community of faith that proves that the Connection is real. Read Paragraph 701 of the 2004 Book of Discipline for one of the best summations of who we are as a family system. So, the sun isn't setting on us as a denomination, especially if we will embrace our shared identity and live it!

Throw Your Life Away

To throw or not to throw, that is the question! I'm a potter and love the therapy and creativity of the experience. One of my favorite tee shirts has this phrase on it, "Throw Your Life Away - Be a Potter." My studio is a mess right now, not to say that it isn't always, but it's cluttered with non-clay stuff that needs to be put up so I can go get a load of clay this weekend.

This is sort of the image for my life at this point. There are creative things that God wants me to do, but I've got "stuff" in the way. It's mostly good stuff, but some of it simply needs to hit the trash can. I need to harness enough discipline to get things in order so I can do with more ease the things I really love.

One thousand pounds of clay will get me through Christmas season. Ninety pieces will be given to Columbia District Clergy, active and retired. Fifty pieces will be given to people in the UM Center as I fill the cupboards with this year's theme: soap/lotion dispenser's. I will need twenty pieces for the Extended Cabinet. Last year it was chalices and patens. This year, I'm not too sure yet. Maybe it will be bowls and pitchers as a baptismal theme. Of course, in addition to all these I've got to ponder what to make for forty family members. All total it will take some two hundred pieces to give away.

To get there I've got to deal with the clutter first. For those potters out there you know what I mean. You can't make something without centering the clay, and that's what my soul is longing for: to be centered. Our district set-up meeting is tonight, but I think I'm going to leave the office early and go straighten out things in my studio. That will be my personal set-up meeting. Who knows, if it goes more quickly than I expect, maybe I'll throw clay before the meeting: centered and ready to roll!

Longing for Mitch

One of the most interesting courses that I took in seminary while in Boston was entitled, “Wilderness Experience for Christian Maturity.” We spent an entire semester learning compass orienteering, team building, and rock climbing skills. This was done to prepare us for two weeks of hiking in the Adirondacks of upstate New York. We hiked through snowdrifts as best we could and trudged through mud after that. We carried all of our food, rappelled down Mt. Jo, and did three-day solos isolated from each other.

We learned a lot about Christian community, but we also discovered much about ourselves. I know first-hand about the fear of trusting a climbing harness when going over the edge of a cliff. I also found out the number of days that I could go without food, and I got closer to God as I read the Scriptures and Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Life Together­.

An amazing discovery occurred when we returned to the trailhead. It was my first chance to see myself in a mirror. I almost didn’t recognize myself. With a full beard and noticeable weight loss especially in my voluminous face, I had to take a second look. Who was this lumberjack-looking creature? How had my wilderness experience changed me? Had I grown in Christian maturity?
The entire course was about discovering God by understanding oneself. Identity was at the core of everything we did. It took an opportunity like this course to make me take the time to ponder my identity as a person and as a Christian. When you know who you are, you don’t have to impress anyone. When Jesus was taken before the high priest, who asked, “What do you have to say for yourself?” Jesus was silent. Wrong question. When the high priest then asked Him if He was the Son of God, Jesus said, “I am.” Right question. Before Pilate, who asked, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus replied, “Yes, it is as you say.” Right question. In the Luke account, Herod asked Jesus question after question, but there was no reply. Wrong questions.

When you have discovered your identity, you need to say little else. This all begs the question for me to answer: Who am I in Christ? What is my identity? With all that has taken place this summer it is important for me to find the real “me” in Christ. You know where I do most of that kind of pondering, Mt. Mitchell. As naturalist John Muir put it, “The mountains are calling, and I must go.” Well, I won’t make it any time soon due to the district set-up meeting, and catching up of every kind around the office, but I can go in my spirit and through quiet time.

This all reminds me of the story I heard of a woman who got on an elevator in a tall office building. There was just one other person in the elevator, a handsome man. She pushed the button for her floor and then casually looked over at the man and suddenly had one of those moments of recognition shock. Could it be? The man looked exactly like Robert Redford, the movie star. Her gaze was almost involuntarily riveted on him. Finally, she blurted out, “Are you the real Robert Redford?” He smiled and said, “Only when I’m alone."

Who are we when we’re alone?

I'm Diving In

Steven Curtis Chapman's song, "I'm Diving In" is going round and round in my head. I'm back in the office after two great weeks at Emory. My blog went down due to technical difficulties for a week, and our phone system in the UM Center has been upgraded but not working. Nevertheless, it's been a joy to be back in SC with my colleagues. Literally dozens of people have expressed their mixed emotions of my not being elected a bishop, but glad I'm back in Columbia as District Superintendent. I have thanked them for their wonderful support. I have also put myself and whomever else on notice that things will not be business as usual. If we believe that sanctification is our most distinctive Wesleyan doctrine: That God doesn't save us through Jesus to leave us the way God found us but to transform us and the world; then things are going to get better and better around here.

To prove this to myself and the Columbia District Council on Ministries, in our meeting yesterday afternoon I lifted up new ventures that I hoped we would address this coming year. I want us to empower the laity more with an exciting Lay Leadership Workshop in January. I will also spend time with the lay leadership of each church, utilizing our new District Lay Leader in Charge Conferences and in meeting with local church lay leaders like I do with each pastor for consultation. The three questions will be, although put in mercantile terms: "What business are we in?"; "How's business?"; and "How can we help?" I want to use the wonderful cadre of Columbia District Lay Speakers more effectively. I would like for us to get on board with every church embracing Natural Church Development and especially looking for ways to find out people's spiritual gifts so they can be better used in the local church and community.

I also lifted up evangelism opportunities. I'm woefully tried of our Igniting Ministries' ads that don't even mention Jesus. We can pool our district monies and place ads in all the cinemas in the metro area at Christmas and Easter at least. We have to be relevant! So in addition, we are going to pump up our existing district-wide youth events and add a service component. We did a district project last year between clergy and laity that were primarily adults. We did have one youth. I also asked the DCOM to ponder helping me figure out an effective way for us to set up two large parishes for the churches within 5 miles of the UM Center that could benefit from expanded ministry. These churches would share pastoral and lay leadership across two groupings of 7 churches each so that different portfolios of ministry can be deployed and thriving relevant churches be the result.

We also talked about being the capital city district and that means personal piety and social holiness should be hand-in-hand. What are things that we can do to shape the General Assembly? Of course, about everyone knows my passion to get the Confederate flag off the Statehouse grounds, but we have much more to do with homelessness, the Hispanic needs in our area, school buses, the cigarette tax, etc. I promised that I will continue to spend 3 hours with each clergy, and pop in on church council meetings to build relationships. We will be part of a conflict mediation effort so that we can help people survive their differences. I also told the DCOM that I want some sort of forum to teach "Theology in the Wesleyan Spirit," one of the courses I teach at Emory and have done in a Sunday School class. We have a lot of people from other faith backgrounds or who present the embedded theology of our Baptist/Calvinistic society and don't understand who we are and why it's good!

Anyway, there's much to be done. I won't be coasting into the future, whatever it may hold. I'm looking forward to our clergy set-up meeting this Thursday. We have a District Clergy camping trip set up for August 25-27 that will help forge relationships. I pray that God will inspire us to get out of the boats we're in!