Following up on the nudges

It's one thing to recognize when you might have been nudged by God. It's another to actually follow through on the nudge. I think I have decent nudge recognition. But, unfortunately, that's as far as it goes.

Two examples from yesterday. I was walking down Michigan Avenue after having a fascinating conversation with a Pauline nun who's an avid blogger (they run the Pauline bookstore on Michigan and Lake) and a woman walks by me and she's clearly been crying. I noticed the tears. I noticed that she was wearing an Argo Tea t-shirt. Would it have hurt to ask, "Are you OK?" The worst that could have happened is that she ignores me or tells me to mind my own business. That was a nudge that I didn't do anything with.

Later in the day, I was walking home and noticed that our next-door neighbor was walking about a block ahead of me. We get along with our neighbors very well and a few weeks ago they mentioned they may come to church someday. Would it have hurt to call out to the neighbor and walk with her? No. But I just kept walking, minding my own business. Another nudge I ignored.

Seeing God in our daily lives is a beautiful thing. It also can be a time to respond, too.

Changed lives, changed city

My friends and family are probably tired of me talking about this, but I'm writing to you from Redlands, CA, where I'm speaking to different groups of United Methodist clergy and laity about the Urban Village experience.

I had my first presentation yesterday. It got off to a slow start with lots of people staring at me (so I perceived) with blank faces, but as I got going, I felt like I was connecting more. By the end, I was peppered with lots of great questions and a few challenges, too ("You claim to be different. What makes Urban Village so different?"). The question that made me pause, though, was a simple one: What kind of transformation are you promising the people who come to your church?

I was a little taken aback because I had never been asked that question in that way before. I stood there for a few seconds in silence, trying to figure out the best way to answer it. I finally came up with a simple answer: Changed lives and a changed city. I was surrounded by other pastors so I felt compelled to use some theological jargon because I wasn't sure my simple answer was adequate enough. As I thought about it this morning, though, I believe it is.

What could be more powerful, more radical than a changed life? We firmly believe that the gospel of Jesus changes everything. And when peoples' lives are changed, they want to transform their neighborhoods and their city so that others can know this love and grace, too. That change may come slowly with some, quickly with others. But, if we're open to it, I believe that this change happens. That's God's promise to us.

Yet another thing they don't teach in seminary

Pastoral Care to the Inebriated 101

Now that's a seminary class that people would sign up for. But, alas, it's one of those experiences that you usually have to go through. Like last night. We had a gathering at a pub in the Lakeview neighborhood and had a great time and a great turnout. One of the folks from the church had won a Happy Hour and she "donated" it to the church so from 6:30 to 8:30, people could drink Budweiser products for free. United Methodists have historically frowned on alcohol consumption, but we thought this would be a fairly tame way to bring people together in a place that wouldn't be intimidating and that would be easy for people to invite friends to. For the most part, it was. There was one exception.

There's a man who's come to a few of our worship services after finding one of our postcards on the street. I'd seen him only once, but he says he's come more than that. I arrived around 6:45 and the man pretty quickly approached Trey (the other Urban Village pastor) and I to tell us that he likes our sermons and he liked the fact that we wrote him a note thanking him for visiting. It was clear that he'd already had too much to drink so I tried to engage him a little bit, but also kept an eye on him the rest of the night. He talked to a few of our folks and made some of them feel uncomfortable (and bless those who attempted to have a conversation with him). By 8:15, though, he was thoroughly drunk and was getting slightly belligerent. He was yelling at people to get out of the way and I thought he wanted to leave so I asked him, "Do you want to leave?" I think he thought I was saying, "Let's take this outside and fight" and so he asked me if I wanted to leave. I tried to remain calm in the midst of the situation but he grabbed my shirt at one point and I was wondering how this was going to end up. I wasn't too nervous because I probably could have simply gave him a little nudge and he would have fallen down (not that I would have done that). Anyway, the bartender called the police and the man soon left.

What to do in that situation? I haven't had a lot of experience in dealing with the homeless, but I've volunteered at enough soup kitchens and shelters to know that there's usually a no tolerance policy when it comes to being drunk. I think we handled it the best way we could--tried to be hospitable while also paying close attention to make sure he wasn't abusive. I met with a woman this morning who's had fairly extensive experience in being with the homeless and I asked for her wisdom and one of the first things she said was, you have to have a lot of love and a lot of forgiveness. Not that you tolerate abuse, but recognize that mental illness can sometimes play a role in a person's behavior or misbehavior.

I hope he comes back to church. I hope he comes sober. I hope we have the wisdom to know how to love him while respecting the whole community's boundaries. I need to take that class.