Blessed

I serve a wonderful body of people at the First Baptist Church of Nocona, TX. Are they a perfect church? No. Am I a perfect pastor? Not by a long shot. Do they make mistakes and do things they shouldn't and often stumble and fall in their walk of faith? They do...just like their pastor does. But just as God loves and accepts me in Christ and in spite of my repeated failings, and just like our church does the same for me and for one another, I love them, too.

I have spoken with other pastors who are often frustrated when church members act mean or hateful or jealous or rude or controlling or greedy or selfish. And while I, too, am tempted to let those things really bother me, God has been so gracious to remind me in those instances that the church is a collection of broken people who haven't reached the end of the journey yet. I'm one of them. And despite my sin and my selfishness, God has not given up on me. Scripture affirms that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it until the Day of Christ Jesus. I am a work in progress and so is every member of our church. And so when I am forced to deal with the imperfections of real people, I am reminded of God's grace...toward me and toward all those who have been redeemed.

As Pastor Appreciation Month draws to a close, I want to say thank you to my church for the words, notes, cards, and gifts of appreciation. Thank you for your affirmation and encouragement. Thank you for your love and care toward me and my family. And thank you for being a constant reminder of God's goodness and grace extended to those who have not deserved it.

When you don't quite measure up

As a pastor it's hard to know how to measure success. Even biblically it's a difficult thing. Abraham, Joseph, Moses, David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, the Apostles...they all met with mixed results, even when they were doing EXACTLY what they were supposed to do. So how do I gauge my effectiveness in ministry? I do my best to study fervently. I aspire to preach the gospel passionately. I strive to teach skillfully. I attempt to love our people deeply. As it is, I manage/administrate adequately (my major weakness, in my opinion). And yet I look at what has happened in our church over the last 4 years that I have been pastor, and it's a pretty mixed bag.

Encouraging things: We are engaged in more Bible study opportunities now with some real discipleship happening as well as our women's Bible study. We are pretty healthy financially. We are willing to take steps to prepare for an unknown future (clearing land, renovating facilities). There is little visible strife. Our student ministry is booming and reaching untold numbers of kids and parents. We have families desiring to join our church.

Things that depress me if I let them: Sunday School numbers continue to plunge (one class of young adults has vanished). There is an overall sense of contentment/apathy in our community that has crept into our membership. Sports is an idol that keeps people away from the fellowship of the body. Very few people are willing to serve. We have well over half of our church roll who do not attend worship, even semi-regularly. AWANA is on life support. VBS and WAM week (our summer children's events) are dead, and have been for 2 years now. I don't know if we, as a church body, really love people like we say we do.

And all of this is hard for me to admit. While individuals certainly bear some responsibility for our failings as a church, I am the undershepherd. I'm ultimately accountable. I'm supposed to have a handle on all this, right? Isn't the church's failing to some degree the pastor's failing? And so I'm tempted to evaluate my success as a pastor on outward, visible, measurable things - attendance, programs, leadership, people's faithfulness. If that's the standard, I am a failure and I should just go ahead and pack up and let someone else take over. But if the standard of effectiveness is rooted in something else altogether, maybe there's hope for me. Maybe I'm still usable. Maybe if I continue to study and preach God's Word, continue to love and care for God's people, continue to pray, and continue to surround myself with people who are strong where I'm weak, maybe I'll make it. That's the plan, anyway.

Dave

The Best Medicine

A little insight into the life of Dave: I love to laugh. I like jokes. I like comedy. I like gags. I like humorous t-shirts. But the thing that makes me laugh out loud more than anything else is watching people fall down. I know it hurts. I know it's painful. But I can't seem to help myself. When we watch America's Funniest Home Videos (my kids' favorite show...because they like to watch people falling down, too) and something strikes me as funny, I will watch it over and over and over again (much to the chagrin of my wife...who doesn't like to watch people falling down as much as I do). Ultimately, I will collapse in a giggling, quaking, crying, snorting mass. For your viewing pleasure, I have included some of my favorites. Be sure to check out 0:33 of the pinata video (the wild flailing is genius), 0:23 of the trampoline video (at what point does he realize he's not going to make it?), and of course, the third video, which proves that I am not the only one who goes into a cackling fit when people fall down. Please to enjoy...

Dust to Dust

Right before I moved to Nocona, First Baptist Church bought a little 3-bedroom, 1-bath house adjacent to the church building for possible future expansion. In the subsequent years, we've purchased every other lot/home on the block with the exception of one. The only problem was that 2 houses, a garage, and an apartment building occupied these lots. Our goal was never to use these buildings for anything, so the understanding seemed to be that, at some point, we would tear these buildings down or give them to whoever was willing to move them (no one wanted to do that, BTW). And while we have no immediate plans to build or expand, instead of continuing to put it off (and risk being taxed on the property), the church voted in June to go ahead and send in the wrecking ball.

This past weekend the garage was torn down, and Monday they started on the quaint little yellow brick house. I watched as the excavator leveled it, scooped up the remains, loaded them up, and hauled them off. While I was ready for these buildings to be gone, I got a little sentimental about a house I had very little history with. Someone had to build it and be the first to move in. Surely kids were raised there. I could imagine marks on the door jambs indicating how tall they were getting. Meals were eaten there. Arguments took place. Tender moments were shared. Someone may have even taken their last breath in that house. And now it's gone.

It got me to thinking about the transient nature of our existence. Truth be known, all our endeavors to preserve and restore and protect are all ultimately going to be in vain. Every house will come crashing down. Schools and church buildings and stadiums will fall. Shopping malls and Wal-Marts will crumble. And one day each of us will draw our last breath, be put in the ground, and turn to dust. None of this is going to last.

And so our hope is not in tangible things, but in the renewal and redemption that we will experience as children of God. Romans 8 speaks of how the whole of creation groans to be set free from its corruption and futility. And likewise, we who have been justified groan for the redemption of our bodies. One day this earth will be set right...like it was created to be before the Fall. And one day we will be remade with holy, sinless bodies. Our hope is not found in the frail, passing things of this world. Our hope is in Christ who makes all things new.

All these thoughts inspired me to write:

Dust to Dust

The year was 1926; they built a home on Texas soil
They made it strong with wood and brick, and hope and sweat and pain and toil
It held their hopes, it kept their dreams; it grew their love as years went by
They lived and loved within those walls; there they grew old, and there they died

It’s only time till it’s all gone
None of it was meant to last
Ash to ash, and dust to dust
The frail and broken things will pass away

Was on a Wednesday I was born; they welcomed me with love and fear
Three decades now have come and gone, and Providence has brought me here
I know I’ve got a ways to go until I lay this body down
But I’m closer now that yesterday, and one day they’ll put me in the ground

It was made and then it fell
Broken flesh and broken ground
Its broken voice began to groan, even now
Redemption’s just around the bend
How we long to have a home
Our bodies and creation, too…even now…even now

I watched them as they tore it down – machines and trucks and shattered glass
The little house was turned to dust; those dreams replaced by wind and grass

One Issue

It's funny to me that during this election season, anyone who uses a poltician's stance on abortion as a criterion for voting is labeled a "one-issue voter." While it is true that abortion is one issue among many, I think there is a difference between being a "one-issue voter" and letting a serious issue automatically disqualify a candidate, no matter what other views they have.

Let me give you an example. When I was single, I had a pretty good idea of what I was looking for in a wife. A few things on my "list" were non-negotiables. Many others were simply preferences. I wasn't basing my search on one issue, but there certainly were single issues that would have disqualified a young woman immediately. If she were a drug addict...out. If she were a stripper...gone. If she used to be a man...nyet. If she were an FSU grad...seeya. And I think everyone feels that way to an extent. There would be certain things that would disqualify a person from being your date or your spouse, regardless of what else they had going for them. Yet, we don't ever hear people being defined as a "one-issue dater."

To bring it back into the political arena, suppose you found the perfect candidate. He lined up with you across the board...economically, socially, morally, defense, healthcare. Everything is great, except that this candidate supports the selling of nuclear secrets to terrorists. Would that disqualify him? What if he supported the reinstitution of slavery? Would that disqualify him? What if he wanted to legalize pedophelia? Disqualified? I would think so.

To me, the label "single-issue voter" is a pejorative term intended to paint the accused as unthinking or simple-minded. I don't consider myself either of those, and yet, because of his stance on abortion, I cannot vote for Barrack Obama. In my mind, he is disqualified. Would I agree with him on other issues? Maybe, but he doesn't meet one of my non-negotiables. And please understand, the fact that I'm not voting for Obama doesn't mean I am voting for John McCain. I have serious concerns there as well. Who knows...I may cast a third party vote for someone like Chuck Baldwin. But I will not compromise. And I will not sit by and let myself be pigeonholed. It doesn't matter how much you get right if you get certain things wrong.

Dave

Lay off...I've been busy for the last year

Well, here's to 15 months off from blogging. I was going to jump right in with some more current topics, but I really want to finish up with an amazing story from Brazil.

On Wednesday morning we went to visit the town witch...yeah, that's right...town witch. She's a middle-aged woman in town who carries a lot of influence. She is courted by politicians to gain her support and endorsement. The reason she holds such sway over these people is that they believe she has supernatural powers. They will come to her if they need a job or have a sick child or want someone to like them. They pay her to make a sacrifice (usually a chicken) to the spirits. Actually, what happens is that she gets drunk on rum, talks in a deep voice, falls down and rolls on the ground, and then beheads the aforementioned poultry. But they buy it.

When we went to visit her, she was busy and claimed to not have time for us. So we thanked her for her time and left. After we had gone just a few steps outside of her house, I felt impressed to pray that God would break her and make her desperate for the salvation only He can give. So I gathered up our team (me, my interpreter Elmo, the pastor's wife, and a church member) and began to pray. And as I'm praying, I start to hear music blaring from a house nearby. It doesn't take long to recognize that the song is "Agnus Dei" by Michael W. Smith. Here we are praying for God to show this woman that her idols and spirits are weak and powerless and false, and this music is proclaiming through the streets and corridors and alleys "Holy, holy are You, Lord God Almighty, worthy is the Lamb...for our Lord God Almighty reigns." I began to weep for her and because of the goodness God has shown to save any of us. What a testimony to His sovereignty that there in an obscure Brazilian neighborhood, in a back alley beside a witch's house that THAT song would be playing at that moment for us to hear. Goosebumps. Still.

The rest of the trip consisted of more home visits and evangelism opportunities, some fun and shopping, and an uncomfortable trip back to the U.S. (due to a severe migraine). I could go on and on about what a great, lifechanging trip this was, but those of you who have been on a mission trip already know what I'm talking about, and those that haven't probably wouldn't understand fully anyway.

Thanks for reading about my unforgettable trip to an unforgettable place. May God continue to water and shine light on the seeds that were sown in June of 2007. I'll be back tomorrow with something a little more current.

Dave