What A Trip To The ER Can Teach Us

   Our Bishop, Mike Coyner, was on vacation out of state when his wife Marsha grew ill and had to be taken to the emergency room.  Her illness required some kind of surgical procedure, but not one that kept her at the hospital over night.  Bishop Coyner, in one of his recent posts, made the following observations about what the church can learn from his experience about hospitality.


As I reflected on that experience in the "strange" hospital in the "strange" city, I wondered how many congregations would measure up to their standard. Let me list a few of the ingredients of the hospitality of that hospital to allow you to compare to your congregation:

1. Excellent signage so I could find the ER entrance even in the dark of night
2. Free and plentiful parking
3. A person greeting us as soon as we entered - who took us to the right place to start the admission process (she did not just point and tell us where to go)
4. An admissions person who was an RN and really knew how to ask the appropriate questions to determine the level of medical care needed
5. Prompt attention from a nurse and then a physician (we waited less than 10 minutes)
6. Many expressions of care, asking about Marsha's level of pain, offering words of comfort, and many comments about "I am so sorry that has happened during your vacation."
7. No one - NOT ONE PERSON - looked or acted strangely toward us since we were from another state and not "local" persons. Everyone treated us with respect and courtesy.
8. The volunteer staff in the surgical waiting room gave me a pager (like you get in some restaurants when you wait to be seated) that would locate me anywhere in the hospital when they needed to alert me how Marsha was doing. Those same volunteer staff took the time to show me to the next location where I needed to wait for Marsha in recovery. Just like the greeter listed in #3 above, they did not point and tell me where to go, they took me since I was obviously new and did not know my way around
9. The doctor gave me his business card and wrote his cell phone number on the back, saying, "I know you are new to this area, so if anything goes wrong or if you have any further concerns or questions, just call me - even if it is 2 a.m."
10. The volunteer who wheeled Marsha out to my car took the time to offer suggestions for places we could visit during the remainder of our vacation, since our plans for bike-riding were changed by her medical situation.

I could name others, but you get the point. Hospitality means caring enough to put oneself into another "shoes" and to try to provide for their needs even before being asked. Hospitality is really about the Golden Rule of Jesus: doing for others what we would want done for us.

   Hospitality is something we do naturally in our homes or in our businesses.  It is more than being just polite or well mannered.  It is one of the most forward leaning habits of Christian kindness.  And it is something we have to always work on when we attend worship or other events at our church.  Jesus is the host, ultimately, but in the meantime since St. Andrew is OUR church we are the stand-ins for our Master.  Even though I hope that we will move beyond "making room for those God sends to us" to seeking out our prodigal brothers and sisters and bringing them back home to God--we can never lose sight of the life-changing experience of radical hospitality.  May we never forget to put ourselves in the shoes of those who make the leap to try some aspect of our congregational life--doing for others what Jesus so extravagantly did and does for us.

What About Me?

(A Thought or Two About Self-Interest & the Kingdom)

         One of the refrains that I hear all the time during election season is the classic “What about me?”  We are encouraged by politicians (from each party) to keeping asking ourselves that same question over and over again.  You’ve heard it echoed and rephrased a dozen different ways:

         Am I better off now than I was four years ago?

         How will this law affect my healthcare?

         Will I have to pay more or less income tax?

         When are they going to get around to paving my street?

It’s just the conventional wisdom that we will vote our self-interest while at the same time speaking out about the uncontrollable, irrational self-interest of all those ‘other’ folks.

         Maybe it’s the conventional wisdom because it’s true.  Maybe all we really care about is whether or not me and mine are getting our generous share of the pie.  Maybe when all is said and done we, the American electorate, are only motivated by what’s in it for us.

         That would be a sad thing indeed--especially for those of us who do what we can to follow Jesus of Nazareth.  Looking over the life of Jesus it’s hard to find many examples where Jesus was motivated by self-interest.  Almost every single choice he makes is a choice to follow the path that God laid out for him, which in this case, just happened to be a path that led him to choose God first, the Kingdom second, others third, and himself last.

         So if Jesus was unlikely to ask, What’s in it for me?  What might he have asked instead?

         What’s in it for my neighbor?  That’s the question Jesus said we ought to be asking and illustrated it with a Samaritan, traveling down the dangerous Jericho road (Luke 10:25ff).

         What’s in it for the last, lost, and the least?  That’s the focus Jesus would have us consider when we recognize our Master’s face in the visage of the sick, naked, hungry, and imprisoned (Matthew 25:31ff).

         What’s in it for the reign of God?  How are the unacceptable being accepted, the unforgiveable forgiven, the unloved being loved, and the skeptics being led to believe the impossible (Matthew 5-7)?

         ‘What about me’ is not necessarily the wrong question to ask.  It’s all in how you ask it. 

What about me:  what can I sacrifice in order to build a society that I can confidently turn over to my children and grandchildren? 

What about me:  isn’t it about time my generation made the kind of investment that previous generations made for grand projects like an interstate highway system, a transcontinental railroad, the Erie or Panama canal?  

What about me:  should I begin to demand something different from the leaders I elect—something other than a willingness to pander to my short term self-interest?

         As Pastor Pat and I have said many times the problem with politics today are not the politicians—the problem lies with us who continue to raise up leaders who lack the courage or moral fiber to say ‘No’ to what a majority of us who want what we want when we want it, and say ‘Yes’ to what is in the best long-term interests of our nation and our world.  If just the followers of Jesus got together and voted God first, the Kingdom second, and others third—as best we understand those things at any given time—I believe we would be a great deal closer to solving some of the looming, systemic challenges that lay before us.  But alas, the campaigning that has gone on so far gives little indication that there will be a ground swell for open honest debate or for the benefits of unity.

         So I guess we do what Christians have always done in the past.  We pray, we stay informed, and we are careful as to which voices we trust, then act in as faithful a matter as we can.  We also recognize that our brothers and sisters may come to very different conclusions than our own.  And rather than working up a head of steam, we can rest assured that they have prayed just as hard, are just as informed, and are attempting to be just as faithful as we are.

                  

The More Important Work

       We had a chance Monday night to host a community prayer service for the four young Harrison High School women devastated by an ATV/Jeep accident Sunday evening.  Lisa's very warm heart and confidence in her church's compassion; Dana and Pat's willingness to rearrange important commitments; Katie and Luann's readiness to share their gifts; Mike & Cathy's 'whatever it takes' attitude--plus the love of many friends and acquaintances made for a sacred moment in our sanctuary.  It was humbling to be a part of it.
      I realized for a moment how flimsy my seminary theological training really was when someone shared about Maya's dire condition.  What the doctors were seeing and what the tests were showing just shouted bad news.  And inside my belly there came a fire that said, "If that were my daughter I wouldn't for a second give up.  I wouldn't listen.  I would ignore the science and go with my God--who is after all a God of second chances and unscripted surprises."  Even though I have never met Maya I started praying for her like she was my daughter.  I started praying that God do the right thing, even if that right thing wasn't necessarily medically indicated; even if it wasn't necessarily God's will; even if somehow it wasn't necessarily even the 'right thing'.  Sometimes you want what you want and you want it so badly you just don't care about doctrine or medicine or common sense.
    I know that whatever you ask for you are supposed to end it with, "Not my will, but Yours be done."  I know all about God's agency, human frailty, and the mystery of theodicy--but none of that would enter the picture if it were my daughter.  Mine would be a prayer of uncompromising certainty and non-negotiable willfulness.  It would probably be some kind of heresy but it would be honest and it would be directed to a God who can handle all the heresy I can dish out.
     A lot of the time if we can't do something to change a situation, if we can't affect or influence the outcome, we say to ourselves, "Well, at least I can pray."  Or we say, "The best we can do is pray."  Or we shrug our shoulders resignedly and say, "I'll give prayer a shot."  We act as if action were the important work and prayer a weak least acceptable option.  But I strongly disagree.  I think it is the most important work we do as God's children.
    Don't take my word for it.  Go back and take note of a day in the life of Jesus.  He starts it in prayer, as life interrupts him he handles it with prayer.  The more demanding his schedule the harder he works to get alone in prayer.  And he never misses an opportunity to gather with God's people as they share in prayer.  For Jesus prayer was not an after thought.  For Jesus prayer was his lifeline to God and the fuel for his interactions with others.
    The prayer service Monday night just reminded me how life changing it is to be able to talk, grapple, thank, cajole, beg, celebrate, and listen to the One who holds us and our world in the palm of His hand.  It is not plan B or C or D.  Prayer is and always has been plan A for life lived in the presence of God.  And I, for one, will do everything I can not to take it for granted.

Beauty From Ashes

      My son Andrew sent me a link to a picture that I thought you might find inspiring.  Though it has since been taken down, there was a hospital shot of Uncle Gregg and family after a double lung transplant.  Uncle Gregg was hooked up to a lot of tubes and machines, but there was a starry-eyed smile that just shone from his face.
      As we go through the stages of grief and anger about what happened in Aurora, Colorado last Thursday night, we all have different reactions.  There are those who want to eliminate access to such deadly firearms or at least limit access for those who show signs of mental illness, etc.  There are those who bristle at the thought that anyone might come between they and their guns.  There are those who had children or grandchildren who had gone to the midnight show somewhere else and realized it could have just as easily been them.  Some are critical that there were so many young children at the theater and are judgmental of the victims.  And there are those who wonder what kind of swift and appropriate justice can be dished out to the shooter so that the world will see that we cannot and will not put up with this kind of violence in our neighborhoods.
      Here's a Jesus glimpse, through this picture.  The death of one victim brought the possibility of life to somebody's Uncle Greg.  And though all of us prefer that the victim could be using his/her own lungs this weekend, Greg's heart and the hearts of his family and friends are filled with gratitude and joy.  It is a powerful reminder of how resurrection is all around us.  God can bring life out of death, hope out of despair, and joy out of grief.
      Throughout the city of Aurora women and men are asking, "Why here Lord?  Why us?  Why her and why him?"  And for those questions there are few satisfying answers, at least not while the wounds are so fresh.
       But in a hospital intensive care unit a very humbled Uncle Greg must be mulling over the other side of those questions.  "Why him or her?  Why me?  How could I be so blessed by another's tragedy?  And Lord, help me live the life  remaining for me with such gratitude and love that I might bring glory to you as I honor the unwilling sacrifice of my donor."
       It brings to mind the last two verses of Psalm 30:
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.  O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

You May Not Always Get What You Pay For

The following is an excerpt from last week's Newsletter article (which is in itself a reprint of a previous newsletter from 1997, which just goes to show you I have been around for a long time.)


In 1997, a Texas judge ordered a church to relinquish the tithes contributed by a bankrupt church member to a creditor.  In a four year period, Leland Collins had tithed $27,687.23 to his church.  During that same time he owed Bill Gregory considerably more than that, but while fulfilling his commitment to God, Collins did not fulfill his commitment to Gregory.

I’m amused and bemused on why the judge ordered the church to pay back the tithe it received.  The judge ruled that the money Collins had contributed to the church was given “without receiving a reasonably equivalent value in exchange.”   Ouch!  That hurts.  Is the judge trying to say that Collins didn’t get his money’s worth?  If so, how in the world would you determine the value of your church giving?

Were the pastor’s sermons were worth roughly the same as admittance to a motivational lecture or a spirituality seminar?  Is an outstanding Vacation Bible School program for your children worth approximately the same as a week at Scout camp?  Is an outstanding prelude, anthem, and special music on Sunday worth the admission to an organ, choirc, or band concert?  Is a 34 week intensive Bible Study like Disciple worth the same as two levels of Rosetta Stone language software?
...
If there is a problem with “equivalent value,” it lies in what God gets in return for all that God has given us.  What can we possibly give “in exchange” for the gift of life?  The wonder of creation?  The joy of unconditional love?  The atoning death of God’s son given on our behalf?  Is $27,687.23 the fair market value for these things?
...

Far be it from me to meddle in Judge Sullivan’s Harris County Civil Court, but I think his judgment ought to be reversed.  Literally.  If anyone has benefited disproportionately in this “exchange,” it is us and not God or God’s church.  I am the one who is blessed in the giving—I am the one whose heart is freed from the chains of selfishness and washed clean by the impulse of generosity and worship.  God doesn’t need what I have to give, but I need to give in order to be who God’s created me to be.  

Taking Out The Power & Putting Love In Its Place

I've been reading Tony Campolo's Choose Love Not Power:  How to Right the World's Wrongs from a Place of Weakness with my sons, Andrew and Zachary.  We've done this a few times since they've been away at school.  What struck me was a passage in Campolo's book in which he chastises followers of Jesus for not taking Philippians 2:5-11 seriously enough.  We know how Jesus emptied himself of his vast power in order to become one of us, in order to rescue us from ourselves.  He did it with humility, servanthood, and sacrifice.  So why do so many of us ignore our Master's model and try to get and keep as much of an upper hand over others as we can?

Here's the quote.  You can chew on it for yourself:

Christians do not always take warnings about power seriously.

There are husbands who think it is their right to exercise power over their wives, and there are wives who, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, play power games with their husbands

There are children who try to exercise power as they challenge the controlling efforts of their parents, and there are parents who regularly tyrannize their children.

There are pastors who try to dominate their parishioners, and church members who try to manipulate their pastors.

There are employers who enjoy bossing their employees, and employees who from unions just so they can strike back and dictate policies to their employers.

There white people who fear losing their power over African-Americans, and African-Americans who turn cries of “Freedom now!” into shouts of “Black power!”

There politicians who compromise anything to stay in power, and there are candidates who, in challenging those politicians, use any deception to wrest power from the incumbents.

There are nations that, in order to become world powers, willingly threaten the survival of the human race by building war machines, and there are world leaders who would push the buttons for all-out nuclear war if they thought their power was being threatened.  (Campolo, pp. 12-13)

In the middle of a rough and tumble political season, it might make sense of Christians took a step back and prayed not for a particular candidate or party's success, but prayed instead that all our candidates might come to see the value of tempering the exercise of power with the example and leadership of love and sacrifice.  I pray that we can all change our tone in this direction, and soon, before the polarization of our society over the little things that separate us lead us to turn our backs on the important principles and overarching compassion that unite us.

A Lifetime of Never “Calling It In”

     I overheard one of those 30 second blurbs on NPR’s Morning Edition last week.  It was about a British carpenter named Dave Miller who was retiring at age 64.  Miller had a perfect attendance record at work, not taking a sick day since 1964!  That’s 48 years of getting out of bed, making your lunch, driving to work, and putting in a full day.  Amazing.

         I was flabbergasted by the amount of discipline that would take:  no matter how you feel, no matter what condition your car is in, no matter how much snow falls or lightning flashes—here’s a man who did it anyway.  I can’t help but think that the moral of this story is the sheer of commitment Dave Miller has to the people he works for and the pride he must have in the projects he works on.

         So how would commitment like that translate into our relationship with God?  I don’t think perfect attendance at worship is comparable, after all worship is as much inspiration for our souls as it is a chance to bring glory to God.  I don’t think it’s a perfect parallel to compare it with reading the Bible, or spending time in prayer.  As much as I love the church and as vital as feeding our spirits may be, I think Dave Miller’s call to us is a little bigger than that.

         In Paul’s letter to the followers of Jesus in Colossae he writes, “Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way. [Colossians 3:17, The Message]  Perfect attendance for Christians is more comparable to submitting every detail in our lives to the Spirit of Jesus.  Our job is not a job, it’s a calling that we pour our best effort into.  Our friendships and families aren’t just for our emotional support, they are the sheep the Great Shepherd has put into our care.  Every off-handed remark, every facebook post, every text and phone call either bear witness to our commitment to love like Jesus or they reveal how far away from that goal we fallen.

         I’m don’t love going to work every day.  I’m sure Dave Miller had days he wished he could be anywhere else other than the work site.  I’m not going to want to focus on the needs of others 24/7—there are too many times when I feel like it ought to be about me.  I’m sure Miller had lots and lots of people encouraging him to indulge himself, that he’d more than earned a “mental health day” or two or three.  
        I’m going to get angry, I’m going to want to be dismissive, I’m going to want to share a tidbit or two of juicy gossip, or sit in smug judgment on someone who has made foolish choices.  I’m going to be sorely tempted to push that send key or dial that phone number or post that snide and sarcastic comment, but then I would be a “no show” in my walk with Jesus. 

It’s very doubtful that I’ve died to self and been resurrected to new life in Christ if I keep resurrecting the old, self-centered me.  The problem with indulging yourself in a sick day here, a personal day there, a ‘it’s-just-too-nice-to-go-into-work-today” every now and then, is that going AWOL becomes easier to do and simpler to justify the next time and the time after that.

         Bottom line is that Dave Miller was at work every day for 48 years because he loved what he was doing, loved who he was working for—because being a committed craftsman and carpenter was just who he was.  The same has go to be true for us or this Jesus thing will never work.  We have got to love being faithful, love whom we are serving, and at some point simply become a new creation—a forgiven, accepting, grace-oriented apprentice of the Master Carpenter.