"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.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
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...
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