Be careful what you wish for...

or I guess to be more grammatically correct, "be careful for what you wish. "

From the time I first sensed a call to full time ministry, I always had one of these idealistic, dreamy visions of what pastoring would be like. I would watch old movies and television shows in which every little town had its own "preacher" who everyone knew and loved. The little old ladies would bring pies to his house and the local barber would offer him free hair cuts (which of course he would refuse...AND he'd give a good tip). When the townspeople had a problem, they would come to the preacher for counsel and advice. He would do all the weddings and all the funerals. He was the "community pastor." I've always wanted to be that guy.

The problem, until recently, was that I had lived in places like Tampa and Ft. Worth. Big cities like these aren't real conducive to the "community pastor."

All that changed 5 years ago when I moved the family to Nocona, TX, population 3,000 to serve as youth and music minister in a small church. I quickly became entrenched in small-town life. I became a regular at the Dairy Queen every morning for coffee. I joined the Rotary Club. I became a volunteer firefighter. I refereed "Little Dribblers" basketball games. I announced the Jr. High and JV football games on Thursday nights. I would substitute teach one day a month.

When our pastor resigned suddenly 2 years ago and the church called me to shepherd them, it seemed as though my dreams had been fulfilled. I had become the very thing I had always wanted. I was the community pastor.

And that's great. But on weeks like this week, where I've had to do 3 funerals in 4 days for people who did not even attend our church, I begin to wonder. Were my dreams too idealistic? Did I think ministry like that would be all sunshine and butterflies? Didn't I realize the amount of work that would go into serving an entire community?

I guess I didn't. But to tell you the truth, seeing the smiles on the tear-stained faced and hearing the words of gratitude coming from trembling lips, I wouldn't have it any other way. I am proud to call Nocona my home. I am proud to call these people my people. And I am honored and humbled that God would allow me the privilege and place upon me the responsibility of being Christ to these wonderful folks. Even when I am beat down and worn out, it is a joy to love and care for the people of our town. It humbles me, and at the same time it buoys my spirits. May I walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which I have been called.

Dave

Is there a place for lousy joiners?

One of my favorite songwriters is Rich Mullins. Several years back a video was released that gave a lot of insight about his life, death, and ministry. It was full of concert video and interviews with friends, family, and fellow artists. At one point, Phil Madeira made a comment to the effect that "creative types are typically lousy joiners." He went on to say that Rich was unique in that different people from different traditions and denominations all claimed him. In a culture of "lousy joiners" everyone wanted Rich to join them. His words were really meant to show how special Rich was, but his statement on creative types resonated with me.

I suppose I am a "creative type." I've always been kind of artsy. I draw. I write a little. I am a musician. And true to form I've always been a "lousy joiner." My "popularity peak" occured in 5th grade, at which point something went terribly wrong. My self-image, along with my social life, took a hard left turn. I went into a tailspin of nerdity and geekdom which didn't slow down until my senior year of HS (those who really know me would debate that, insisting that I am still a card carrying member of the Dork Patrol). All of those years confirmed to me that I am not one of those people who is naturally charismatic. I don't have that natural "attractiveness" to me. I have very few close friends. Even in seminary, which was "networking central" I only made one real friend. I've always found it difficult to fit in...which brings me to the point of my post.

I entered the blogosphere hoping to fit in a little and throw my $.02 into an ongoing discussion about faith and the state of the SBC. I found a lot of likeminded people who said some of the same things I was thinking. It was kind of fun feeling like I fit in. But in recent days, it seems that lines have been drawn which have made me question where I really fit, and if I even fit at all. It seems that factions have arisen (whether they intended to and whether they even see themselves as factions) that have very distinctive marks (or have had those marks thrust upon them). There is the Joshua Convergence crew and the Memphis Declaration group. There are traditional conservatives and neo-conservatives. There are the abstainers and the winebibbers. There are the Founders and the "Caner Baptists." There are tent-wideners and gate-guardians. There are apparently those who blog and those who evangelize (you can't do both, you know). There are the cessationists and the continuationists/continualists. There are the Landmarkers and the...whatever the opposite of them is. And while I understand the value of labels as identifiers, I find myself confused and lost as to which label fits me.

I am an inerrantist. I don't drink. I don't think Scripture prohibits the moderate consumption of beverage alcohol. I am a lifelong Southern Baptist. I am a 5-point Calvinist. I have never spoken in a tongue unknown to me. I can't find any convincing support that miraculous gifts have ceased. I am not supportive of the new IMB policies. I value and see the need for doctrinal accountability via a confession of faith. I respect and honor those who have defended biblical Christianity and fought for the authority of Scripture. I have never met Paige Patterson. I have met Wade Burleson once. I am for the accurate reporting of church membership numbers and the regular practice of church discipline. I am intrigued by the writings and spirituality of the mystics. I am sympathetic toward pacifism. I have walked a labyrinth. I own several Brian McLaren books. I have been inspired by the writing of men as diverse as Brennan Manning, Mike Yaconelli, RC Sproul, John Piper, Bob George, Steve McVey, Charles Spurgeon, and John Owen. I don't know where I fit in terms of eschatology, except to say that I am not a dispensationalist. I'm not sure if I align more with Covenant Theology or New Covenant Theology. I am more complimentarian than egalitarian. I support women deacons (if deacons are servants and not a ruling board). I support plural elder leadership. And add to these doctrinal issues the fact that I am sometimes lazy, sometimes undisciplined, sometimes selfish, sometimes defensive, sometimes insensitive, sometimes critical, sometimes obsessive, sometimes perfectionistic, sometimes demanding, sometimes angry, sometimes distracted, sometimes anxious, sometimes cowardly, and often wrong.

So all that to say, do I fit as a Southern Baptist? Am I qualified to serve in any capacity? Would I even want to? Would anyone want me to? Maybe I ask too many questions. And maybe I've said too much.

Dave