We went to a "boot camp" last May to learn about all things related to church planting and part of that education was, not surprisingly, about money. That's usually one of the first questions people ask if they're curious about what we're doing. Sometimes they're a little hesitant about asking because they don't want to offend, but it's a good question. How exactly is this whole thing funded?
About half of it over the next three years is being funded from our denomination (or, for you United Methodists out there, our annual conference), but the other half is coming from donations from friends, family, and acquaintances and (we hope) people who commit to being a part of this new church. We sent out a letter to our family and friends a few weeks ago asking not so subtly for them to support us financially. And this was a learning for me: The person leading the boot camp said, essentially, that those family and friends won't necessarily be giving out of altruistic purposes or they feel led by God to give. All that may be true, but the main reason they're giving is because they trust and believe in me.
It's easy to feel a little awkward about that, but when I think about my own giving, it's true. I wouldn't give to the Washington County Hospice if it sent me a letter, but I supported it because my Aunt Cathy was doing a walk to support it. Same with numerous other charities that we support. We give because of the relationships.
Our intern at Urban Village Church, Anne Williamson, preached at another church last Sunday night and she said a really helpful thing. She was using Luke 1:26-38 and noted that Mary said yes to the angel not because she knew what exactly would happen in her future or because all of her questions would be answered. Mary said yes because she knew who was making the request. It was God. Mary trusted God, loved God, and may have thought that this request was absurd, but she said yes because of trust and love.
I have prayed this week that my trust and faith God can continue to deepen so that I can continue to say yes to whatever it is that God is asking.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Grabbing the baby Jesus
I went to my son's preschool Christmas program this morning at Old St. Mary Church on south Michigan avenue. He was very excited to have us see him in his elf costume, but the real excitement came from a little boy who was probably about 3 years old. My wife and I were chatting with another parent waiting for the program to start when this boy came sprinting down the aisle of the sanctuary. He had his eyes and feet focused on the little barn that was constructed in the front of the church. More specifically, he was dying to get to the baby Jesus. He grabbed the doll and started looking at him and about ten seconds later the boy's mom grabbed him and whisked him away.
We're told to wait during the Advent season. Children are told to wait as they count down the days until Christmas. Adults are told to wait and use this period of waiting as a time for spiritual growth and reflection. But we don't often hear how we are supposed to wait. I don't think it's a passive waiting, but an eager one, like a boy who simply cannot control himself because of his desire to see the baby Jesus.
Faith in God through the living Christ enables us to engage in active waiting and anticipation. Something sacred and abundant is always in our midst because God is faithful and has surprises and adventures in store for us every day. Let us then throw off the covers in the morning and, like this little boy, run into the day actively waiting and watching to see where Jesus might be.
We're told to wait during the Advent season. Children are told to wait as they count down the days until Christmas. Adults are told to wait and use this period of waiting as a time for spiritual growth and reflection. But we don't often hear how we are supposed to wait. I don't think it's a passive waiting, but an eager one, like a boy who simply cannot control himself because of his desire to see the baby Jesus.
Faith in God through the living Christ enables us to engage in active waiting and anticipation. Something sacred and abundant is always in our midst because God is faithful and has surprises and adventures in store for us every day. Let us then throw off the covers in the morning and, like this little boy, run into the day actively waiting and watching to see where Jesus might be.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Second Urban Village worship
We had our second worship as Urban Village Church last night and it was another great experience. We had about 110 people attend and in the midst of singing the songs and listening to Trey preach and investigating strange noises, I also took time to look around and just marvel at everything.
I thought back to the day in June 2007 when I first read the article in Chicago Magazine about the South Loop neighborhood, when the idea was first planted. I thought about the time that Trey and I went to our district superintendent a few months later with this idea of doing something together. Neither of us really could be sure whether we'd get the green light. I thought back to this summer when we'd be thrilled if one or two people expressed even a scintilla of interest in this new church. And then last night. Dozens of people had come together. It really is remarkable and speaks to taking that next step whenever God plants an idea in your head. I believe God does that all the time (planting the ideas), but too often we don't do anything with it. I've been guilty of this many times. Life happens, after all. We have the day-to-day stuff that we must attend to and we don't really have time to take action on God Ideas. But, truly, amazing things can happen if we even give these ideas the tiniest bit of attention and take the smallest steps. Things may not always take off quickly and may not flourish like you initially envisioned, but still. It's a pretty awesome thing to see something come out of nothing. I think there's a story in Genesis about that.
I thought back to the day in June 2007 when I first read the article in Chicago Magazine about the South Loop neighborhood, when the idea was first planted. I thought about the time that Trey and I went to our district superintendent a few months later with this idea of doing something together. Neither of us really could be sure whether we'd get the green light. I thought back to this summer when we'd be thrilled if one or two people expressed even a scintilla of interest in this new church. And then last night. Dozens of people had come together. It really is remarkable and speaks to taking that next step whenever God plants an idea in your head. I believe God does that all the time (planting the ideas), but too often we don't do anything with it. I've been guilty of this many times. Life happens, after all. We have the day-to-day stuff that we must attend to and we don't really have time to take action on God Ideas. But, truly, amazing things can happen if we even give these ideas the tiniest bit of attention and take the smallest steps. Things may not always take off quickly and may not flourish like you initially envisioned, but still. It's a pretty awesome thing to see something come out of nothing. I think there's a story in Genesis about that.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Candy cane give-away
We're all out.
Eight of us teamed up over the last few days to hand out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night at 7 p.m. at 637 S. Dearborn). We probably handed out 1,500 of them all over the city on street corners and near L stops. Some observations:
**I was surprised that more people didn't take them. Maybe it was because I got better at it, but on Sunday when I went out only about a third of the people took them. On Tuesday, that went up a bit and then yesterday, it went to about half.
**There were very generally four types of people. First were the people who had their heads down and weren't going to look at me even if I was giving away $100 bills. Second were the people who were polite enough, made eye contact, but said no thank you. Third were the people who took the candy canes without breaking stride, like I was handing out water and they were running a marathon. Fourth were the people who were vocally appreciative, took the candy, and gave me a smile. Those folks were in the minority, but it still made me feel good.
**A few interesting stories, too. One woman asked me if this church was that "expatriate Methodist church." One man took a look at the card, read the phrase that said, "Love all," and said, "A church that loves all? I'll believe it when I see it." One other man looked at me and grudgingly took the candy cane as if to say, "Oh, alright, if it will make you feel better." A few folks were shocked that they were free.
**I have no idea how effective this will be--I guess we'll find out (hopefully) on Sunday, but the more I did it, the more I kind of enjoyed it. Even in the frigid weather we had yesterday.
Eight of us teamed up over the last few days to hand out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night at 7 p.m. at 637 S. Dearborn). We probably handed out 1,500 of them all over the city on street corners and near L stops. Some observations:
**I was surprised that more people didn't take them. Maybe it was because I got better at it, but on Sunday when I went out only about a third of the people took them. On Tuesday, that went up a bit and then yesterday, it went to about half.
**There were very generally four types of people. First were the people who had their heads down and weren't going to look at me even if I was giving away $100 bills. Second were the people who were polite enough, made eye contact, but said no thank you. Third were the people who took the candy canes without breaking stride, like I was handing out water and they were running a marathon. Fourth were the people who were vocally appreciative, took the candy, and gave me a smile. Those folks were in the minority, but it still made me feel good.
**A few interesting stories, too. One woman asked me if this church was that "expatriate Methodist church." One man took a look at the card, read the phrase that said, "Love all," and said, "A church that loves all? I'll believe it when I see it." One other man looked at me and grudgingly took the candy cane as if to say, "Oh, alright, if it will make you feel better." A few folks were shocked that they were free.
**I have no idea how effective this will be--I guess we'll find out (hopefully) on Sunday, but the more I did it, the more I kind of enjoyed it. Even in the frigid weather we had yesterday.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Christmas connections
I seem to be in a bit of a networking slump. I've mentioned in previous posts that networking and making contacts is the lifeblood of starting a new church. I had great success in October. November was also pretty good until about the middle of the month and then things started to slow down, meaning not as many people were returning phone calls or e-mails. I've learned pretty quickly that there are times of bounty and times of scarcity when it comes to this kind of thing, but obviously times of scarcity are harder to deal with.
I've been more intentional, then, about going to events that community organizations put together. Last night, for example, the Greater South Loop Association had its holiday party and tomorrow night, the South Loop Neighbors organization will have its holiday and I went to and will go to both of these. I think the thing that makes this a bit more challenging is that Christmas is often a time to reconnect with those closest to you. It's the time we send out the letters and go to parties with friends, but here I am still trying to build relationships, meet new people. That's an ongoing process that, for the most part, I really enjoy, but it can get discouraging.
I participated in a hard-core networking task last Sunday as I stood outside the Target on Roosevelt Road handing out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night, 7 p.m., 637 S. Dearborn). That was a pretty cold experience, in more ways than one. First, it was literally pretty chilly and, second, I was a bit surprised that only about a third of the people actually accepted these candy canes. Many were very polite about it ("No, thank you"), but, still, I left with quite a few candy canes in my bag. I'll be going out to L stops today, tomorrow, and Thursday to do the same thing. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing any good by doing this. I think I am (I should say we are because others from our church are doing this, too). I sometimes run my mouth off about leaving the church building and hitting the streets but I need to recognize that it's not always easy. In the midst of all of this, though, God is with me and us. The birth of Jesus tells me so.
I've been more intentional, then, about going to events that community organizations put together. Last night, for example, the Greater South Loop Association had its holiday party and tomorrow night, the South Loop Neighbors organization will have its holiday and I went to and will go to both of these. I think the thing that makes this a bit more challenging is that Christmas is often a time to reconnect with those closest to you. It's the time we send out the letters and go to parties with friends, but here I am still trying to build relationships, meet new people. That's an ongoing process that, for the most part, I really enjoy, but it can get discouraging.
I participated in a hard-core networking task last Sunday as I stood outside the Target on Roosevelt Road handing out candy canes tied to cards that publicize our next worship service (this Sunday night, 7 p.m., 637 S. Dearborn). That was a pretty cold experience, in more ways than one. First, it was literally pretty chilly and, second, I was a bit surprised that only about a third of the people actually accepted these candy canes. Many were very polite about it ("No, thank you"), but, still, I left with quite a few candy canes in my bag. I'll be going out to L stops today, tomorrow, and Thursday to do the same thing. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing any good by doing this. I think I am (I should say we are because others from our church are doing this, too). I sometimes run my mouth off about leaving the church building and hitting the streets but I need to recognize that it's not always easy. In the midst of all of this, though, God is with me and us. The birth of Jesus tells me so.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Mary's witness
From my contribution to our eNews:
Tuesday was World AIDS Day and, rightfully so, emphasis has been given in recent years on the AIDS epidemic in Africa. While that certainly deserves our attention, I also remember Darryl on Dec. 1.
I first moved to the Chicago area in 1992 and soon started volunteering with an organization that was then called Open Hands Chicago. My task was pretty simple--deliver meals in the Uptown and Edgewater neighborhoods to people with AIDS who were unable to make meals for themselves. Darryl was one of those people. We were never close, but our relationship reminded me that there were real people at these addresses who struggled as they lived with this disease.
It's appropriate that World AIDS Day comes during the Advent season. While I enjoy the pre-Christmas preparation as much as anyone (I'm listening to "Silent Night" on Pandora as I type this), it's important to remember the radical words that Mary sang when she discovered that she was pregnant: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowlinesss of his servant...He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty" (an excerpt from Luke 1:46-55).
Mary reminds me that God came first to the the forgotten, the sick, the lonely. We must never forget that because the only way that God will lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things is through you and me doing things like delivering meals, advocating for the voiceless, and loving the lonely.
Tuesday was World AIDS Day and, rightfully so, emphasis has been given in recent years on the AIDS epidemic in Africa. While that certainly deserves our attention, I also remember Darryl on Dec. 1.
I first moved to the Chicago area in 1992 and soon started volunteering with an organization that was then called Open Hands Chicago. My task was pretty simple--deliver meals in the Uptown and Edgewater neighborhoods to people with AIDS who were unable to make meals for themselves. Darryl was one of those people. We were never close, but our relationship reminded me that there were real people at these addresses who struggled as they lived with this disease.
It's appropriate that World AIDS Day comes during the Advent season. While I enjoy the pre-Christmas preparation as much as anyone (I'm listening to "Silent Night" on Pandora as I type this), it's important to remember the radical words that Mary sang when she discovered that she was pregnant: "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowlinesss of his servant...He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty" (an excerpt from Luke 1:46-55).
Mary reminds me that God came first to the the forgotten, the sick, the lonely. We must never forget that because the only way that God will lift up the lowly and fill the hungry with good things is through you and me doing things like delivering meals, advocating for the voiceless, and loving the lonely.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Skipping church
"I, on the other hand, had a wonderful day. And I owe it all to skipping church."
--Homer Simpson
I skipped church last Sunday. Blatant. Premeditated. I'm not sure if it's admirable or sad that I can't remember the last church I did that. Of course, when you're pastor, it kind of goes with the territory that you'll be in worship, but even when I took a Sunday off as a pastor, there was usually a reason (vacation, sabbatical, conference) and, even then, I tried to go to worship somewhere.
It was supposed to be a beautiful day last Sunday so on Saturday, I told my wife, let's go to Starved Rock State Park tomorrow and let's leave in the morning. I've always wondered what it was like, though, for a family to just do something else other than go to church and as we sat there eating our picnic lunch, my wife intimated that she could kind of get used to not going to church. (I think she was kidding...I think).
But she had a point because it was a beautiful day. Our son wasn't sold on the idea and whined a bit (OK, whined a lot) but once we got there and started hiking around, our moods improved dramatically. As much as we enjoy living in the city, I'm finding it more and more important for us to make sure our kids stay in touch with nature so they get a more holistic view of God's creation.
I must confess that, as a pastor, I would occasionally silently judge people if I knew they were doing something else other than being in worship. I do think it's important for folks to be in worship on a regular basis, but, after last Sunday, if a person needs to play hooky on the occasional Sunday, I think I may have a better understanding of why.
--Homer Simpson
I skipped church last Sunday. Blatant. Premeditated. I'm not sure if it's admirable or sad that I can't remember the last church I did that. Of course, when you're pastor, it kind of goes with the territory that you'll be in worship, but even when I took a Sunday off as a pastor, there was usually a reason (vacation, sabbatical, conference) and, even then, I tried to go to worship somewhere.
It was supposed to be a beautiful day last Sunday so on Saturday, I told my wife, let's go to Starved Rock State Park tomorrow and let's leave in the morning. I've always wondered what it was like, though, for a family to just do something else other than go to church and as we sat there eating our picnic lunch, my wife intimated that she could kind of get used to not going to church. (I think she was kidding...I think).
But she had a point because it was a beautiful day. Our son wasn't sold on the idea and whined a bit (OK, whined a lot) but once we got there and started hiking around, our moods improved dramatically. As much as we enjoy living in the city, I'm finding it more and more important for us to make sure our kids stay in touch with nature so they get a more holistic view of God's creation.
I must confess that, as a pastor, I would occasionally silently judge people if I knew they were doing something else other than being in worship. I do think it's important for folks to be in worship on a regular basis, but, after last Sunday, if a person needs to play hooky on the occasional Sunday, I think I may have a better understanding of why.
Friday, November 20, 2009
When things don't change
One of my favorite stores is a place I only visit about once a year and I'm only in there for 10 minutes or so. But I still look forward to it.
It's called The Shaver Shop and it's located in Evanston near the Davis St. Metra stop. Its sells electric razors and accessories and it's like walking through a time warp whenever I go in. Absolutely nothing changes about it. The signs and notices on the wall are the same (one sign says they accept BankAmericard, which became Visa in the mid-1970s), the magazines seem to be the same, the man (I assume is the owner) who helps me is the same. The products change, but that's about it.
I've wondered why I enjoy going in there and I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we are constantly bombarded with the message that everything in our world is changing and changing quickly so you better keep up. In many ways, I welcome change (especially when it comes to the church), but it's also kind of nice to have a few things that remain the same.
I'm thankful that God's promise that God will always love us and will always be present in our lives is one of those things. That will never change and I base my hope on that abiding and steadfast promise.
It's called The Shaver Shop and it's located in Evanston near the Davis St. Metra stop. Its sells electric razors and accessories and it's like walking through a time warp whenever I go in. Absolutely nothing changes about it. The signs and notices on the wall are the same (one sign says they accept BankAmericard, which became Visa in the mid-1970s), the magazines seem to be the same, the man (I assume is the owner) who helps me is the same. The products change, but that's about it.
I've wondered why I enjoy going in there and I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we are constantly bombarded with the message that everything in our world is changing and changing quickly so you better keep up. In many ways, I welcome change (especially when it comes to the church), but it's also kind of nice to have a few things that remain the same.
I'm thankful that God's promise that God will always love us and will always be present in our lives is one of those things. That will never change and I base my hope on that abiding and steadfast promise.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
At home in a new place
I've had a few people ask about how our first worship service as Urban Village Church went last Sunday night and I've been a bit surprised that my first reaction has been silence. I still haven't been able to put into words what my feelings and emotions were like that night. It's still a struggle to articulate it, but I'll give it a shot.
On the one hand, everything went great. We had around 80 people show up which, if you think about it, is pretty remarkable because just a few months ago, we had 2, Trey and I (well, a few more if you count our families). The venue was perfect and the transition between the Korean congregation that worships there in the afternoon and our worship went as smoothly as we could have hoped for (a last-minute email made me nervous about this, but it all worked out). The musicians were great (one found through a contact of Trey's, the other found on Craigslist). I preached and I think that went pretty well. At least people told me it went well.
And yet I still feel a bit detached from it all, probably because it hasn't sunk in that this thing (a.k.a. Urban Village) we've been working on for five months, this thing we've been thinking about for more than two years has actually started. I think we were all so anxious about everything running smoothly while also keeping an eye out for people who said they would come and didn't and being surprised by others who we never would have dreamed show up and did, it was hard to really and truly appreciate the evening.
I think, though, that the best way to describe it for me is that it felt like home. I've experienced a fair number of different worship services the last few months and have felt a little like Goldilocks (too much of something in one, too little of something in another). But Sunday night, it just felt right, even though it's still a work in progress and we have lots of areas in which we can improve. I was surrounded by a lot of people I didn't know and I felt a connection that I hadn't felt in a while. That is a very good thing since I preached about the need for followers of Jesus and questioners of Jesus to be in community together.
I have a feeling we'll look back on this night and chuckle at how we did things. But I also have a feeling that the sense of overwhelming gratitude for what God did in that place during that hour (and all the hours leading up to it) will only grow stronger as the years go along.
On the one hand, everything went great. We had around 80 people show up which, if you think about it, is pretty remarkable because just a few months ago, we had 2, Trey and I (well, a few more if you count our families). The venue was perfect and the transition between the Korean congregation that worships there in the afternoon and our worship went as smoothly as we could have hoped for (a last-minute email made me nervous about this, but it all worked out). The musicians were great (one found through a contact of Trey's, the other found on Craigslist). I preached and I think that went pretty well. At least people told me it went well.
And yet I still feel a bit detached from it all, probably because it hasn't sunk in that this thing (a.k.a. Urban Village) we've been working on for five months, this thing we've been thinking about for more than two years has actually started. I think we were all so anxious about everything running smoothly while also keeping an eye out for people who said they would come and didn't and being surprised by others who we never would have dreamed show up and did, it was hard to really and truly appreciate the evening.
I think, though, that the best way to describe it for me is that it felt like home. I've experienced a fair number of different worship services the last few months and have felt a little like Goldilocks (too much of something in one, too little of something in another). But Sunday night, it just felt right, even though it's still a work in progress and we have lots of areas in which we can improve. I was surrounded by a lot of people I didn't know and I felt a connection that I hadn't felt in a while. That is a very good thing since I preached about the need for followers of Jesus and questioners of Jesus to be in community together.
I have a feeling we'll look back on this night and chuckle at how we did things. But I also have a feeling that the sense of overwhelming gratitude for what God did in that place during that hour (and all the hours leading up to it) will only grow stronger as the years go along.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Sit. Stay.
For years, I've had my prayer/devotional time early in the morning, right after I wake up. I'm usually the first one up (not counting our son's occasional ventures into our room around 3 a.m.) so it's quiet and allows me to start the day with the right focus. Granted, I'd fall asleep while praying from time to time (hey, the disciples did it), but, still it worked out well. That's changed once school started this fall.
School buses aren't too common in the city so I've been driving my daughter to school nearly every day. It's not that bad of a drive. At most, it takes 15 minutes and we leave around 7:40. If I want to run in the morning, though, that pretty much means my prayer time has shifted to 8:30 or 9. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge deal, but my body has been used to getting going with the day at 8:30 or 9 so I'm fighting my mind now. It says, "Hey, this is your most productive time of the day and you're spending it...praying?!? You should be writing, planning, answering e-mail."
At 8:30, I feel a little like our dog when she's particularly energetic. The only way to get her (the dog) to settle down is to use an authoritarian voice and command, "Sit. Stay." And, most of the time, she does. In fact, she seems a little relieved that some boundaries have been placed on her.
Those words came to mind yesterday morning as I was eager to get going. Sit, the Spirit said. Stay. And I did. And I was glad. I've had to get used to this new rhythm, but it's slowly coming.
School buses aren't too common in the city so I've been driving my daughter to school nearly every day. It's not that bad of a drive. At most, it takes 15 minutes and we leave around 7:40. If I want to run in the morning, though, that pretty much means my prayer time has shifted to 8:30 or 9. Normally, that wouldn't be a huge deal, but my body has been used to getting going with the day at 8:30 or 9 so I'm fighting my mind now. It says, "Hey, this is your most productive time of the day and you're spending it...praying?!? You should be writing, planning, answering e-mail."
At 8:30, I feel a little like our dog when she's particularly energetic. The only way to get her (the dog) to settle down is to use an authoritarian voice and command, "Sit. Stay." And, most of the time, she does. In fact, she seems a little relieved that some boundaries have been placed on her.
Those words came to mind yesterday morning as I was eager to get going. Sit, the Spirit said. Stay. And I did. And I was glad. I've had to get used to this new rhythm, but it's slowly coming.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Wanted: Wide, open spaces
We're understandably been asked quite a bit how we like living in the city compared to the suburbs and we've really loved it. I'm speaking for all of us, which may be a bit presumptuous (the kids occasionally say they want to move back), but I've really thrived on the energy that living downtown offers.
Until today. Or, more accurately, until last Friday.
My wife's birthday was yesterday so I spent a little time shopping for her gift on Friday. She had a couple specific requests which I thought would make things easy, but for some reason I got caught in the vortex of North Michigan Avenue and didn't feel like I could escape. I'm not a big fan of shopping the Magnificent Mile--too many people, too many stores, not enough selection (at least for what I wanted). I finally got out of there with my purchases, but ever since then I've had this feeling of claustrophobia and the city feels like it's closing in on me a bit. Part of the reason may be that our son's been sick so we've been cooped inside with him during this beautiful weekend. I so wanted to escape to a forest preserve this afternoon, but Anne had some friends coming down so it didn't work out. Maybe a run by the lake tomorrow will help.
Back in the saddle...
...in more ways than one.
After spending the last two to three years blogging on my .mac account, I've finally given up and come back to blogspot, mainly because of convenience. I won't bore you with the details, but it got to the point where it took 20 minutes or so to download one simple post. That got to be a hassle and I think was a big reason I stopped posting very regularly. So, I'm creating a minor inconvenience by telling people to come back to this site, but it's a lot easier for me so I appreciate your patience and understanding. I'll still podcast from time to time and I'll need to send people back to the other site for that, but, for now, this will be the place.
I was also back in the saddle in that I preached for the first time in close to five months today. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. I've been speaking at other churches in September and October, but that was essentially giving a stump speech about the new church. This felt like an actual sermon (going off a theme, picking a text, etc.) and I think it went OK (it was at Prince of Peace United Methodist Church in Elk Grove Village). One thing that threw me this week was coming up with a new schedule for sermon preparation. In my previous church, I was used to spending an hour or two every morning during the week doing the prep work. This week, it was kind of scattered. I need to be a more regimented this week as I prepare the sermon for our first worship as Urban Village Church. I'm pretty stoked for that. It's all coming together...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)