Shared Ministry!?!

I have been conducting Charge Conferences one and two a night except for Friday and Saturday, plus up to four on Sundays. In addition, Consultations with pastors have been every hour on the hour each day through tomorrow. Both Charge Conferences and Consultations have been excellent and informative. There have been some tensions as we finish up the business and I open up a "town-hall" style conversation about ministry. In particular, there has been fruitful seed-planting about a dream that I have to deal with the 16 churches within 5-6 miles of my office.

These 16 churhes have about 3,000 members and around 1,000 in average attendance. They are pastored by mostly elders, 3 retired supply persons, and two Probationers. Each church has its own identity and is doing vital and valid ministry. The situation that presents itself is that these churches are all struggling in a sense. The attendance in the churches starts at 25 with a high of 125. There has been disciple-making, but little numerical growth. The total salary amount for the clergy serving these churches is over $630,000, not counting accountable reimbursement or housing allowances in lieu of parsonages. Only three of the churches have parsonages.

I don't want to have a cooperative parish system because my experience is that model smacks too much of being one foot already in the grave; i.e., "Let's continue to do our own thing but get together every now and then until we shrink to the point that we have to be closed." Another model suggests that larger churches can absorb smaller ones as satellite congregations. This strikes me as a "hostile takeover" no matter how good the intentions are. Another model is where a larger church has an Associate Pastor who serves in that role and as Pastor-in-Charge in a nearby smaller congregation. Then, of course, is the idea of mergers but that creates a mutated DNA mixture that could be deadly.

The model that I'm pondering most has groupings (clusters) of similar churches in close proximity that avoids any sense of takeover and affirms each church's identity. The 16 churches that I'm specifically thinking about could be grouped into 2 or 3 clusters for a "Shared Ministry." They would have their own pastor who would be there 75% of the time, but share clergy responsibilities with other clergy from the Shared Ministry Group. For instance, a clergy for a particular church may be that church's "pastor," but there would be a degree of rotation in preaching duties to underscore the connectional nature of a Shared Ministry.

I wouldn't need 16 pastors to handle these 1,000 people. I also wouldn't need over $630,000 to fund the clergy. But this is much bigger than saving money and stewardship of human resources (After all we do have a clergy shortage in SC). The primary impetus is to help these struggling churches do more and do it together. If I put the slogan that comes to mind for this on a T-shirt it would read, "Together We Can Do More!" Maybe 6 elders would be enough to handle the pastoral needs including several who might be retired Supply. I would want at least 2 Deacons to handle Programming and Christian Education opportunites that can be shared with all the churches in the cluster. Plus, I would want superb persons for Children's, Youth, Young Adult, and Older Adult Ministries that would be individual and shared. All total There would be 12 clergy and ministry staff persons instead of 16, but MORE IMPORTANTLY there would be so much more opportunity for these particular churches to see growth rather than status quo - "Together We Can Do More!" It is a connectional model that honors who we are.

I'm broaching the subject at Charge Conferences and in Consultations, and the reception is better than expected given the differences between the churches in terms of socio-economics, theology, and race. This would create cross-cultural opportunities that just aren't happening enough as is. People have responded by saying that this plan reminds them of what we did years ago when we did "Sub-District" events which provided a understanding of our denomination beyond a single church. Maybe they have a point! Please pray that we can make some of this happen, and leave your comments. This is going to take several years to get everyone on board, but the conversation has started. There are big issues to deal with like each church's autonomy from the Discipline with regard to salary. I would prefer an English model of equalized pay, but that's not my perogative though I do have the power of consultation for the greater good. I think something like this has to happen not just in Columbia but around the connection. I haven't see anything written about a Shared Ministry exactly like I'm pondering, but I'm open to new thoughts and the Spirit's leading. Help!?

World Communion and What I Need to Hear

When I was a youngster in my home church we went to Sunday School and afterwards made our way into the sanctuary. The educational building was behind the sanctuary so that if you went from one to the other you usually entered through the back door that opened into the sanctuary right beside the pulpit and altar. If we saw the communion elements and the white cloth spread out we immediately pressed our parents into leaving early.

Communion services were so long and were as somber as a funeral service. We used the old ritual; where what we said reversed our efforts at the Protestant Reformation’s focus on grace. We went back to something that resembled a large confessional booth. We used words like, “We bewail our manifold sins and wickedness which we from time to time have committed in thought, word, and deed…” I felt sinful enough already. Our communion service seemed to add to my sense of guilt. The words of pardon were miniscule in comparison to the confession. I usually left feeling worse.

This is one reason that today when we celebrate the Lord’s Supper; we attempt to focus more on Christ’s marvelous work of grace than on our power to reform ourselves. We, more often than not, now refer to Communion as the Eucharist. Eucharist means Thanksgiving. The most important thing that we do when we come to the Communion Table is say, “Thanks!” to Christ for his gift of mercy. Rather than focus overly on our sinfulness, we thank God for God’s graciousness. What a better perspective!

World Communion Sunday is an event that bridges denominations and spotlights our commonality in the Body of Christ. This world would be so much better off if we looked for that which we hold in common rather than our differences. Holy Communion, rightly observed, reunites the Church. This is the pastor’s hope when he or she holds up the loaf of bread and says, “Because there is one loaf, we who are many, are one body in Christ.”

Therefore, our focus for World Communion Sunday and the entire month of October should be how to get over our differences and find common power to live in Christ. The Eucharist is a time of positive celebration, reunion, prayer for healing, and a sacred time to put others before ourselves. In my first parish I had three churches. I remember how shocked I was as I went to my first communion service at the smallest church of eight members. When I arrived there was a loaf of sliced “Wonder” bread still in its wrapper on the altar and a bottle of Welch’s grape juice and some small paper cups. They had not had communion in years. I was soon to find out why.

I went through the ritual and opened the altar for people to partake and NOBODY came forward. The reason they hadn’t had communion in years is that they were afraid. They knew full well that they were not living as consistent Christians. They felt too unworthy to come to the Table. I quickly switched sermons and preached on grace. Still nobody came up, but by the time I left there five years later, a few did. Those few moved from guilt to grace, judgment to acceptance. They found real communion with Jesus, a sacrament indeed.

Someone said that the three phrases we humans most want to hear are these: “I love you,” “I forgive you,” and “Supper’s ready!” In our celebration of the Eucharist, we hear all three. Let’s share this great news with the hurting world around us.

Touchdown Jesus

The longest prayer I ever heard, and I mean ever, was at a high school football game. A pastor in that small town had evidently been saving up for his big chance to pray under the “Friday Night Lights.” He prayed for the football players, the referees, the coaches, the assistant coaches, the cheerleaders, the bands, the parents, the teachers, the school administrators, and the highway patrol officers who were directing traffic. No joke, he prayed so long and for so many people that the game started 20 minutes late!

Don’t get me wrong! I’m all for prayer, and “Sweet Hour of Prayer” is one of my favorite hymns. Nevertheless, prayer at sporting events bothers me, and it’s not just because I’m such a stickler about the separation of church and state. I think my problem stems from being a University of South Carolina Gamecock fan. I grew up going to all the games. I heard Dr. Lauren Brubaker of U.S.C.’s Religion Department pray at every game year after year. Here’s my problem as a U.S.C. fan. If you pray for the best team to win, that’s probably the other team. If you pray for nobody to get hurt, that might negate Carolina’s only hope of winning. Bottom line, I agree with Hall of Fame catcher, Yogi Berra. Once, when a batter stepped into the box and made the sign of the cross, Yogi said to him, “Let’s just leave God outta this, okay?”

Okay, I yield. I know prayer helps us in everything, but really… should we pray for our team to win? There’s an anonymous tongue-in-cheek story that puts this question in perspective: “Jesus Christ said he had never been to a football game. So we took him to one, my friends and I. It was a ferocious battle between the Protestant Punchers and the Catholic Crusaders. The Crusaders scored first. Jesus cheered wildly and threw his hat high up in the air. Then the Punchers scored. And Jesus cheered wildly and threw his hat high up in the air. This seemed to puzzle the man behind us. He tapped Jesus on the shoulder and asked, “Which side are you rooting for, my good man?” “Me?” replied Jesus, visibly excited by the game. “Oh, I’m not rooting for either side. I’m just enjoying the game.” The questioner turned to his neighbor and sneered, “Hmm, an atheist.”

Is God an atheist when it comes to sports? What harm is there in praying for good results about a game, a great round of golf, or a super outing on the lake? The answer is, “Nothing,” unless we take God’s apparent disregard or ambivalence to our request as indifference. God cares, for sure, about every facet of our lives, but maybe God has bigger fish to fry than who wins the game, and God expects us to be the cooks. Luke DeRoeck put it this way in a letter to the editor of Sports Illustrated, “To suggest that God really cares about the outcome of a sporting event is preposterous. Conservatively, 20 million people in the United States went to bed hungry on Super Bowl Sunday. A God who cares about the outcome of the Super Bowl is not a God I ever want to meet.”Being a good sports fan is great. I know I love my team. Being a disciple, however, is more important than anything!

Memories of Hurricane Hugo

I woke up this morning feeling the slight chill of Fall in the air. It felt good, but my spirit was unsettled as if remembering a shadow of a almost forgotten tragedy. My first thought was about the recent airplane crash at Columbia Metro, but I knew there was something else looming in my unconsciousness. It was Hurricane Hugo.

Hugo hit South Carolina over the night of September 21-22, 1989 packing 140 mph winds, a Catgeory 4 storm. Cindy, Narcie, Josh, Caleb and I huddled in the safest part of the house while the storm howled outside. We didn't sleep as we listened to segments of roof and siding tearing off. The constant banging of the crawl-space door stopped during the night as it was finally blown 100 yards or more out into a field. The only contact we had with the outside world was our battery-operated radio that picked up a Jacksonville, Florida station. It was a rough night. The days to come were worse as we sought to help one another and witnessed the grief of people who lost their homes and their belongings, the vestiges of family history and hope. We clung to each other and to our faith as we helped one another recapture hope and saw the truth of resurrection overcome the storm's fury. That is what I need to remember today, not how horrible it was, but that we overcame by the grace of God.

A very important lesson was gleaned from the hurricane, a lesson that has helped me when people have proffered that all-too-familiar question of "Why?" in the midst of their storms. God gave me a sermon the Sunday after Hugo about Jesus with his disciples on the Sea of Galilee. Jesus was asleep below deck. The disciples, who were seasoned fishermen, were staring down a storm and we're afraid of drowning. They woke up Jesus who looked out into the storm and rebuked it saying, "Peace, be still!" The actual text says that he "rebuked" the wind and waves.

That struck me as interesting. The only other time Jesus used the word "rebuke" was in relation to evil. If one claims that Jesus is God and that God controls nature then why would Jesus have to rebuke something already under his control? This says to me that nature has a mind of its own, and that God's freedom has a broad reach across the cosmos. Out of love God allows freedom and chaos to prevade the creation. God hates the storm as much as we do, and is not willing that any should perish (2 Peter 3:9). God is with us in the storm.

When we face our storms of economic woes, health dilemmas, death, and worries about our children or aging parents, it does me good to know that Jesus can still the storms. Sometimes he doesn't and I can't answer why not. I can only answer that he goes with us through the storms. My nagging memory from 1989 this morning comes at a good time. We survived!

"Loafer's Glory" or "B-Mix"

Being a potter is wonderfully therapeutic. Your hands can't go faster than the wheel is turning or what you make is going to have problems before you can wire it off. There has to be focus and fluidity of motion with an eye for what can be even when you can't see it. It's a wonder I don't have a bent neck from leaning over constantly to watch the vessel's profile as I'm pulling and shaping. You have to look beyond the reality and see the possibility, and dare to take a chance on a new throwing hunch or a shape.

I just bought a thousand pounds of clay to get me through my Christmas projects. I was down to a couple of hundred pounds. My favorite clay comes from a little hole-in-the-road place in North Carolina called "Loafer's Glory." What a great name! Any way "Loafer's Glory" is the clay that I love to use. It's a smooth-throwing stoneware with just enough grog and grit to experiment with as I try to throw larger 19th century forms. It feels good, looks good, glazes well, and fires beautifully.

Unfortunately I was only able to purchase 500 pounds of "Loafer's Glory" and have had to supplement my supply with a similar B-mix grade clay. I wedged a sample of the "B-mix" to see how it compared to Loafer's and it felt pretty good. I'm looking forward to trying it out. The switch got me thinking about us as God's clay.

I picture God as trying to get something accomplished, but there's not enough of us who want to oblige. Maybe that's when God gives another clay a try. God likes to create and experiment with this spaceship called Earth, and wants the Good News of Jesus to change the whole cosmos. God needs clay like you and me to do it. Now I would prefer that God used "United Methodist" clay rather than "Baptist" or "Muslim," but it's all about supply.

It's up to us more than God. Will it be "Loafer's Glory" or "B-mix?" Part of me likes the name "Loafer's Glory" a lot better than a name as generic as "B-mix," but a tree is known by its fruit, not its name. God is more interested in the results than the brand, don't you think?

Trust and Obey

Storm clouds are rolling in. These are scary times with the dips and plummets of the stock market. I’ve been having consultations with pastors. I am sad to admit that fear has replaced expectancy in many. Who wants to ponder retiring next year if a person’s pension fund is in the tank? Who wants to move to a new parish when they’ve just figured out who the snakes are in the parish they’re in? Issues about children, school, spouse’s employment, and parents’ illnesses abound. We want to play it safe in an itinerant adventure.

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, an impossibility 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 reaccustom 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 what came next – rappelling down a 1000-foot cliff. Such is life with a wild God leading us, the solitude on the mountain to the valley of overwhelming need. There is no playing it safe.

Doing the Right Things or Doing Things Right?

Church questions without clear answers make my mind kick into overdrive: What are the limits to Equitable Compensation in a missional language barriered situation? Can an affiliate member or an ssociate member be on SPRC? (An associate member can, but not an affiliate - Go figure) Do you have to go to District Board of Church Location and Building when the purchase, etc. of a building exceeds 25% or 10%? Well, I turn to the BOD and get most answers, but sometimes it's a judgment call. The BOD can and should be permissive if it can expedite ministry. I know people expect me as a Conference Parliamentarian to be a "strict constructionist" when it comes to the BOD, but I'd rather do the right things than do things right.

Sounds like heresy among methodical United Methodists, but isn't this what we should be about? Doing the right things is much more important than doing things right. I listened at the Bishop's School this week to Jorge Acevedo of Grace UMC near Ft. Myers, Florida say how it's great to be flexible enough to do cutting edge ministry. He's a good leader. The diffrence between managers and leaders is whether one values doing things right or doing the right things!

That's sort of the crux of the matter, isn't it? God needs us all to be leaders more than managers. To do less is only rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. I look forward to starting Charge Conferences this Sunday and I hope/long to hear how leaders have been leading and everyone has been daring to dream new things and actually do them. I think I'll get sick, really sick, if I hear a "woe is me" attitude or hear a same-old-same-old report. I know that there are people who don't know the transforming power of Jesus all around us. The traffic around Columbia is radically less on Sundays! I look forward to hearing what's happening and how I can help us do the right things more than doing things right.

W.I.T.

The 2008 General Conference made a number of significant changes in our ordering of ministry. Lines have been blurred, some would say, between the work of Deacons, Elders, and local pastors. My response would be, “They have always been blurred!” In the UMC laity and clergy have always been sharing ministry in so many ways they are hard to keep straight. We have two kinds of Lay Speakers, 2 kinds of local pastors (the Student Local Pastor designation has been dropped), Certified Lay Ministers, Supply Pastors, Deacons, Elders, Provisional Members, and Full Members. Does it matter what our title is, or is our effectiveness more important? I think the genius of the Wesleyan Movement is a focus on effectiveness more than status.

What we need are effective lay and clergy leaders who are responsible, hardworking, and dependable. The bottom line is results! I pray for clergy and laity who will take responsibility and get the job done. The Kingdom is sorely lacking results because the laborers are few! I saw a persosn working in a hotel wearing a button with "W.I.T." on it. I wondered what it meant so I asked. The hotel employee said it was their mission statement, "Whatever It Takes." They wanted to remind each other that they were supposed to do whatever it took to get the job done. That's good advice for us!

There was one particular golfer who exemplifies the need for personal responsibility, whether as an individualist or as a groupie. He had a miserable game one day. It was such a bad round that he skipped stopping at the clubhouse and went straight to his car. As he approached his car he noticed a police car with its lights flashing.

An officer stepped out of the patrol car and hurried up to the melancholy golfer. “Excuse me,” the officer started, “but did you tee off from the 16th hole about 20 minutes ago?” “Why yes, I did,” the duffer replied. “Did you happen to hook your ball, so that it went over the trees and off the course?” the trooper asked. “Yes, it was a terrible shot, but how did you know?” the club member asked.

“Well,” said the policeman very seriously, “your ball flew out onto the highway and crashed through a windshield. The car went out of control, running five other vehicles off the road and causing a fire truck to crash. That fire truck was on its way to a fire, and so that building is a complete and total loss. I want to know what you are going to do about this?” “Hmmm,” the golfer mused. “I think I need to close my stance, keep my head down and tighten my grip.”

Christ is looking for people who will get the job done. I want to be one.

Gamecock Disaster and Theodicy

I could spit nails! Early this morning I tuned into “The Game” on FM107.5 to hear the Gamecock woes after last night’s humiliating loss to Vanderbilt. There’s nothing better than USC and Clemson losses to remind us all that life is more than what happens on the gridiron. There are much more important things for us to be about. Living and breathing football is an obsession. As a Gamecock fan I should be used to losing and being mediocre. In 114 years of football at USC, we’ve only won 8 or more games 3 times. Hey, we sure know how to tailgate though, and we surely live up to the SC state motto Dum spiro spero, “While I breathe, I hope.” It’s just sad and disheartening when you pin your distraction from real life on a team that perennially lets you down. Maybe it’s a good thing to get this idolatry over early in the season so we can focus on reality. The reality that I need to think about is Jesus, the One about whom the writer of Hebrews says, “…is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”

This begs a question in the midst of life’s travails, even when they’re on the football field. The question is why bad things happen to people. Why do some people get away unscathed by problems and appear to have a Teflon coating where nothing bad sticks to them? Others, usually good people, go from one crisis to another. Why? I guess it’s a question of theodicy. Theodicy is a peculiar, almost sacrilegious word. Its roots are in Theos or God and dicy, the same root that appears in the word “judicial.” Theodicy literally means “Judging God.” It sounds, at first glance, like a spiritual no-no, but God is big enough for us to question. Check out Job’s experience when asking God, “Why?” for all of his calamities.

So Gamecock and Clemson fans, let’s ask the Why-question: What is our theodicy? Sure James (1:2ff) says we should count it all joy when we have trials, but doesn’t identify the source of the junk that comes our way, at least not until verse 13 of the same chapter, “When tempted/tested, no one should say, ‘God is tempting me.’” Interesting, isn’t it? So God isn’t the source of the junk that happens.

I’ve been reading a book, The God Who Risks: A Theology of Providence, by John Sanders. He talks over and over again about how Scripture presents God as “relenting” from doing certain things. Of course, this could be anthropomorphic language about God, putting human language on a God who’s really above that. Can God really change God’s mind and action? If we don’t really think so, then maybe we should become Calvinists. If we take seriously the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples to pray, “…Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven…” then we must believe that prayer can possibly change things. The Wesleyan point of view allows God to change. I know this flies in the face of one of the long-held tenets of Christianity, and may be where I am personally closest to heresy. The idea of God’s immutability is at stake, and I’m okay with giving it up. I believe the Wesleyan view that focuses both on God’s grace/love and process theology allows, even encourages, a progressive view of God’s interaction in the world. God loves creation and its creatures enough to allow us to change our minds, to let nature do what it will, and yield to the utter fickleness of humankind. Our Wesleyan understanding of grace’s progression toward sanctification leaves great room for change, on God’s part and ours.

So why do bad things happen? I’ll lift up four reasons that come quickly to mind: our choices, the choices of others, the general crap that’s in the world because of the Fall, and Evil. Maybe there are really no accidents, there are only crashes caused by one of these 4 sources, but never God. So where’s God? God is doing what God has always done since the Garden: God is seeking us out in the crap and wants to redeem our situations. God does not cause them, but walks with us and gives us the ultimate victory through Jesus Christ. God doesn’t have a pre-set plan for our lives that precludes our ability to change, and God loves us enough to change with us. So with football out of the way for another season due to a mistake-prone offense, defense, coaching staff, etc, I’m going to throw my foibles and thick-headed mistakes onto a God who risks – A God who risks loving me and risks watching all the stupid things that happen on this planet, yet enters our vicissitudes and consistently loves. That’s the basis for my hope and lessens my acrimony on this dark day of Gamecock defeat.

Make Haste!

Work wasn’t a stranger around our house when I was a youngster. Many hours were spent tilling the garden, hoeing the flower beds, cutting the grass, feeding the cows, fixing fences, pumping gas at the Texaco station, or being a meat-cutter at my grandfather’s country store. During Christmas break I operated a fireworks stand for two weeks, and in the summers I either worked in a peach packing shed or penned cows and hogs at my father’s stockyards. My father’s philosophy was clear if he caught me sitting on the fence or lazing around in other ways: “Off and on!” he would yell. What he meant can be translated a number of ways, but the best way I can phrase it would be, “Quit resting on your laurels and get on your feet!” Hard work was a given.

When I was a kid I wasn’t that keen on work, although I must admit the monetary gain came in very handy, plus I was always the fastest person on our football team thanks to chasing or being chased by 2000 lb. cows. I miss my Dad’s admonition to get up and get with it, “To Make Haste!” as he would put it. The value of a good work ethic is immeasurable. As much as I like time off and rest, there’s nothing like a good night’s sleep after a day of manual labor. Rest is all the more sweet thanks to the satisfaction of a good day’s work.

Certainly, I enjoyed some tasks more than others. One of my hardest lessons about work came from one of my uncles. He said that he would give me 50 cents for every bushel of butterbeans I shelled. I thought that sounded like a good deal until my fingers felt like they were going to fall off after shelling about one-fourth of what I was supposed to do. He wanted me to learn that money doesn’t come easily. He was right. There is no free ride in this world.

Work is a gift from God, to be sure, but we can’t enjoy this gift unless we put it to use. The best use that can turn any labor into a blessing is to “work for the Lord.” If I can work for the intrinsic reward of pleasing the Lord, then the extrinsic 50 cents doesn’t much matter. If whatever the menial task is done for Jesus’ sake then we can be content whatever our lot in life. That is, if we do it to the best of our ability. From this perspective, work can indeed be a gift from God. Famous artist, Emile Zola, put it this way: “The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.”

Perhaps you have heard or read the story of how work makes the difference between heaven and hell. There was a man who died and found himself in a beautiful place, surrounded by every conceivable comfort. A white-jacketed man came to him and said, “You may have anything you choose - any food - any pleasure - any kind of entertainment.” The man was delighted, and for days he sampled all the delicacies and experiences of which he had dreamed on Earth. But one day he grew bored with all of it, and calling the attendant to him, he said, “I’m tired of all this. I need something to do. What kind of work can you give me?” The attendant sadly shook his head and replied, “I’m sorry, sir. That’s the one thing we can’t do for you. There is no work here for you.” To which the man answered, “That’s a fine thing. I might as well be in hell.” The attendant said softly, “Where do you think you are?”

No More Schadenfreude

Competition is a curse. It shows up in everything from personal one-upmanship, college football mania, to the November elections. I want the candidates and the obviously biased TV channels to really have a “No-Spin Zone.” It’s sad to me to hear the bias from CNN and Fox News. Back and forth they go: Barack has little experience and John McCain looks like death warmed over. Joe Biden loves to hear himself talk, and Sarah Palin has a grudge against her ex-brother-in-law and a pregnant unwed daughter. Is this the truth? I don’t know, but I have an opinion. If we concentrated on all the negatives, would we elect anybody? Competition over compassion is destroying the common sense/common good fabric our country.

Sometimes I’m guilty as charged. Tommy Bowden, Clemson’s football coach, called a bunch of friends, coaches, and family members about what went wrong after their crushing loss to Alabama last Saturday. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t on his list. As a University of South Carolina Alum and die-hard fan, it was difficult to be terribly upset. I tend to be one of those long-suffering Gamecock fans who pull for whoever is playing Clemson, unless it’s Georgia. I suffer from “schadenfreude.” “Schadenfreude” is a German word that means to feel joy at the misfortune of others. Truth be told, I have experienced “schadenfreude” too often, and not just with Clemson’s loss on Saturday. I don’t want us to do that with our country, our politics, our church life, or in our families. Glee over somebody else’s crap is just that, except it really hurts us all.

Preachers are famous for loving it when another one of us “falls.” Clergy competition is rampant. We measure each other against one another with statistics and salaries rather than focusing on non-competitive servanthood. This flies in the face of the real deal we call Christianity: loving the poor, opening our arms to the down-and-out and the hurricane refugee, caring for the planet, forgiving estranged family members, and simply living like Jesus. The words I saw on a bumper, “Separate Church and Hate!” aren’t true enough in the midst of our competitive paranoia that God’s extravagant grace is somehow being wasted if it someone else gets more of it than we do.

Grace is never a waste. Eugene O’Neill once said, “Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is the glue.” This world, country, and our denomination need to be glued back together. In the midst of this football and political season of sniping at one another, I hope that I can live grace a lot better than I’ve been doing. I look forward to having a district clergy gathering where no one points out to me who was absent and what size their steeple was. As United Methodists we have the best framework of grace imaginable: Prevenient, Justifying, and Sanctifying Grace. In the midst of our bickering we have lost our relevance in a hurting world by not having contagious grace, a grace that we contagiously exude in our worship and fellowship; a grace that offers radical hospitality more than “schadenfreude.”