Great News and Responsibility

I'm a happy Dad right now. Life isn't perfect but Narcie just called me with her doctor's report from the latest MRI. Those of you in the loop know that on June 11 of this year she had to have brain surgery on an oligodendroglioma tumor. They didn't get it all, and we have been waiting with hope for the 3 month check-up on its growth.

In case I don't pass this on correctly, please check her blog. The tumor HAS NOT grown since the surgery. Something is still there, a fuzzy line, scar tissue, maybe swelling, too, but shout Hallelujah! Now, of course, the best news would be that it wasn't there at all, but, hey, I'm more than okay with this news. I am next to ecstatic! She will have MRI's every three months to check the status. The doctor says radiation and chemo are out because of the tumor's location and type. Suits me, sometimes the treatment can be worse than the illness. She has no negative issues from the initial surgery. Praise the Lord! She will never have a normal brain scan, but I know folks that fit that description and they haven't had brain surgery. Ha!

So I'm happy, relieved due to this bit of hope, and will keep praying and waiting faithfully until the next test. Please keep praying for her and her precious family, and if you have any nickels to spare: The air conditioning/heat pump went out at The Winthrop Wesley Foundation yesterday, and she doesn't have $12,000 to get a new one. HELP! The address is Winthrop Wesley Foundation, PO Box 5009, Rock Hill, SC 29733. Look at my last blog for some more incentive if you need to.

I want you all to know how grateful I am for your prayers and encouragement. It's been tough to juggle the mental and emotional pins of this summer's saga with Narcie and my brother's sudden death, but God is so wonderfully present with us. Our Connection has been alive for us more than ever. I am so glad to be a United Methodist! But then I know that there are people hurting all around and didn't get good news today. I just got an email from a fellow DS who was in Africa for our Worldwide UMC trip a few weeks back. One of the speakers at her Listening Post was Dr. Mirielle, the Director of Nursing at the Lupandilo School of Nursing in Kamina, Congo. In the midst of a C-section for her second child she cried out as the baby was delivered and died. How awful.

How do we handle good news and bad and reconcile them with a God who loves us all? Deuteronomy 29:29 comes to mind: "The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever." So what to do? Give to God all that God we can't handle or understand and do something about the things we can do something about.

I know this story will muck up the tenor of the mixture of gladness and sorrow that's on my mind, but those who know me understand I'm a story-teller and especially like humor because it gets me through the tough times. So here goes: There was this golfer who 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.”

What are we responsible for and what are we not, and what ties this to everything with Narcie and Wesley? Narcie's brain tumor is something that I can't handle, but God and good doctors can. The Wesley Foundation air conditioning is something I can do something about. I can also do something for motherless children, too. Hey, maybe this is a thought for tonight's Charge Conference where I'll probably hear several reasons why they can't pay their apportionments that fund Wesley and help children all over the world.

Taking responsibility for that which is legitimately mine is one thing, and giving the rest to God makes for a centered life that is free from worry and filled with appropriate responses to crises. It moves me from turning my worries into prayers in some instances (Like Narcie), and turning them into action in others (Winthrop and Connectional Giving).

Campus Ministry is Where the UMC Began!

As I begin Charge Conferences I have just come back from a Cabinet Meeting where we talked about the terrible situation we face in connectional giving in our annual conference. I know times are tough and money is tight, but I am very upset that all of our SC Campus Ministries were told 2 days before school started that they would not receive any program money for the rest of 2010 or 2011. My daughter, Narcie, is a Campus Minister and the UMC is the only denomination that was founded in a university. John Wesley was a campus minister. Right now, I know of at least 4 seminary students, future ministers, who have come out of SC’s campus ministries. Our future clergy are being sold short because of poor giving and that will show up in the kind of preacher some of you will get.

I’m upset on two levels. One is that Narcie has her first post-brain tumor op MRI this coming Tuesday and she already has enough stress on her than to have the ministry money plug pulled out. On the second level I am appalled at how this economy has made us more selfish than giving. Instead of pulling together in prayer, shared giving, common causes – I sense we’re in an “every man for himself” phase. That’s not good. We need each other now more than ever.

The late Paul Harvey reported that a woman called up the Butterball Turkey Company's consumer hot line and asked about the advisability of cooking a turkey that had been in her freezer for 23 years. The customer service representative told her that it might be okay to eat it if the freezer had maintained a below-zero temperature the entire time, but even so, the flavor would have deteriorated so much that it wouldn't be very tasty. Said the caller, "Oh, that's what we thought. We'll just donate it to the church." The church has received more than her share of “old turkeys.” Parsonages are too often filled with cast-off furniture from people who upgraded in their own homes. People aren’t tithing or even coming close. Churches have become self preserving silos and don’t give a rip about “the least of these.”

I recently saw the movie “Lost in Woonsocket” and would recommend it to anyone who is trying to figure out how to help those who are struggling, and the frustration that goes along with it. But, even if we fail sometimes, sometimes we succeed. Gone are the days of easy employment searches, and name-your-price job opportunities. Reaching the end of a job interview, the human resources person asked a young engineer fresh out of MIT, “And what starting salary were you looking for?” The engineer said, “In the neighborhood of $135,000 a year, depending on the benefits package.” The interviewer said, “Well, what would you say to a package of five-weeks vacation, 14 paid holidays, full medical and dental, company matching retirement fund to 50 percent of salary, and a company car leased every two years -- say, a red Corvette?” The engineer sat straight up and said, “Wow! Are you kidding?” And the interviewer replied, “Yeah, but you started it.”

All kidding aside, what are we going to do about this economic melt-down – hunker down in selfishness or believe Jesus that we should give it all away? I say let’s get together and get real, helping everyone that we can. Here’s a thought, go to http://winthropwesley.com and make a donation to help campus ministry. Check out the sites for all the other campus ministries in SC and do your part. Find a way to donate time if you don’t have the money. I know that I’m trying to do my part and not just because two of my kids are ministers because of campus ministry. What are we going to do? Do it!

Pre-Game Jitters and Prayer

Should I pray about the Gamecocks’ game against the University of Southen Mississippi tonight? I’ve got the jitters. It’s 5 hours or more before the kick-off and I’m already dressed in my team colors, hat is on my head, and my “Beat Southern Miss” sticker is on my favorite Gamecock shirt. I’m going to pick up my brother at Bojangles and head to our parking spot and I’m a little freaked. Our mantra year after year is “Wait until next Year!” Well, this is next year. I’m going to pray, but I hope with some priority perspective.

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! That God is God and the Gamecocks are not will hopefully calm my pre-game jitters. We’ll see.

Mt. Mitchell at Midnight

I just got back from our Columbia District Clergy Retreat on top of Mt. Mitchell in Western North Carolina. It is the tallest peak east of the Rockies, 6,684 feet. It was 30 degrees cooler and the weather was absolutely perfect. I have been there so many times when we had lots of wet weather, or the wind was 50 mph. These past three days were perfect.

The sky was so clear that 4 of us hiked up to the summit in the dark. The Milky Way was hovering over us, and the Big Dipper seemed so close that you could reach out and touch it. The photo above is the four of us standing on top of the observatory at about midnight. It was awesome! One thing that hit me is that darkness helps you see what would normally be invisible. There are dark times in our lives: uncertainty, anxiety about health, finances, ministry, etc. God light shines best when we allow our eyes to adjust to the darkness and see the unseen yet real presence of God.

The whole retreat was helpful. New friends were made. We shared together our thoughts on Peter Steinke's book on being a courageous leader without reactivity in the face of anxiety. We ate Black Beans and Rice one night, Chicken Bog with Smoked Sausage; anyway it was GREAT. We did have a bear visit us last night but no injuries and no damage to our tents, just a little excitement.

Anyway, I've been taking groups of preachers up to the top of Mitch for 5 years now. Having a quiet place to go above the cell phone towers and the fray of the tyranny of the urgent is important. We ain't Superman and even he needed a Fortress of Solitude. This was ours for a few blissful days.

With Labor Day approaching and knowing that so many people are feeling stuck in jobs just for the benefits and not a calling, I certainly hope that those who feel like this are able to find a place where there can be responsive reflection and not anxious reactivity. Peace, Peace, Peace - In the dark, God's light still shines.

Appreciating Tired Legs

I preached my heart out this morning and I can feel it in my legs. Sounds weird, huh? Well, for me when I get into something, breaking a sweat with my mind or with my body, the effects of either go to my calves specifically – always has. When I was a kid running cows up and down the alleys at the stockyard I would go home and feel it in my legs. Restless Legs Syndrome wasn’t caused by lack of work, but by too much. 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 helping out 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 stockyard which made for great sprinting ability when football practice started. 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. Today, however, I would give practically anything to hear my Dad’s voice yell, “Off and On!” again. 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?”

Non-Anxious Presence: A D.S.' Soup de Jour

This has been a day of what I call "Full-Moonitis." I don't think there's a full moon, but the way today has gone from calm to the tyranny of the urgent has been a real yo-yo. Just like the moon affects the tides, I sometimes think that it tugs on our amygdala's and we lose focus on what's real or imagined. Today was like that. As they say, "It ain't paranoia, if they're really after you."

I spent the entire day doing what District Superintendents do most days: conflict management, trying to remain calm in the freak-out problems that everyone presents to you as if theirs was the only problem that exists. Everybody has anxiety. To not have anxiety is humanly impossible, but what makes the difference between the good edgy anxiety that propels you to a creative solution and the flooding anxiety that makes you freeze up in a fetal position is whether you react to stuff when the ship hits the sand or whether you're responsive and thoughtful.

Thus, I spend a lot of my time saying, "That's interesting," or "Really?" instead of spouting off information or emotion. Calm demeanor, don't shake your head, don't smile too big or at all, unless you want folks to put words into your mouth and make out like you've agreed with their position. You have to differentiate, step aside, be a whole self and not perforated enough that their anxiety sucks you in. But, you have to remain connected, too. Here's where a handshake, a closing prayer, a verbal hug or whatever lets the other know you're still you, but you are in this thing with them, not for them. I only about lost it about 5 times today. Not bad for a fairly stressful day.

But, hey, I ain't Jesus. I can't solve all the problems, don't know all the answers. Heck, Even Jesus scribbled in the dirt and made the bystanders think for themselves. I never did like the funnel-in-the-head churches that tried to tell you all the right answers before you even asked the question. There's something wrong with that, promotes co-dependency if you ask me. I like the United Methodist way. We question everything except God's grace, and disagree on about everything but that. We call it conference. Yet, wouldn't it be wonderful if we conferenced with responsiveness instead of reactivity. Now that would be Holy Conferencing. I think I've actually seen it done. Well, anyway, I have about tongue-and-cheeked away my sarcastic cynicism. I feel more calm. You?

Carlee's Eulogy

The word "Eulogy" means "Good Word." A number of you have asked if I might share the eulogy I wrote for my brother, Carlee. As a person who often finds great comfort in the part of the Apostles' Creed that declares that "I believe in the Communion of Saints," then this eulogy is an ode to that belief. We are an Easter people and our resurrection hope is not in vain.

As we share the stories of people they remain alive in our hearts and actions. Holy Communion is called an "anamnesis," or to "remember." This morning I remember my brother and others, and I hope this spurs you to write down your thoughts and reflections about those who have gone before you. The remembrance of the past gives meaning and content for the present and future.

Take time today to think about the people you most admire and write their biography. It will be a "good word," a eulogy. Everyone needs to be remembered.

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