Sayers of Nay

Mira is reading a book right now called Faith of Leap, for the Academy of Missional Wisdom in which she is enrolled. For many reasons, I am thankful that she has enrolled in this course, with the help of the New Start Initiative. One of those reasons is that I get some second hand wisdom from her as she returns from retreats and reading sessions, and her enthusiasm can be infectious. Faith of Leap addresses the importance of faithful leaders and initiators being able to step up at the right time in the face of the multiple barriers that could get in the way.

One of those barriers, the author says, that often gets in the way of Church moving forward with missional work are “naysayers.” Their words:

“Naysayers are highly skilled urgency killers, and the church is full of them. They can be powerful barriers to missional engagement and progress. They are not true skeptics, who serve a good purpose by curbing naive enthusiasm and can be convinced by evidence. Rather, naysayers will discredit people and derail the process. They continue to question the information and demand more proof. They disrupt useful conversation and cause delay and frustration. You can’t ignore them. You can’t co-opt them. You must distract them, push them out of the organization, or expose their behaviors in a socially acceptable way so that social pressure will shut them down.”

--Frost, Michael; Hirsch, Alan (2011-04-15). Faith of Leap, The (Shapevine) (p. 42). Baker Books. Kindle Edition.

I had many questions about all the naysayers who are members of churches, because their very presence in churches has baffled me. Which God do they worship? Do they know the stories of Jesus? What got them to come to church in the first place?

As I thought about it some more, I now realize that I shouldn't be surprised at the presence of naysayers, because the fact is that naysayers have been disciples from the very beginning. Judas was the first naysayer, “faithful” to following Jesus to the very end. It was most probably Judas, the keeper of the money who objected to Jesus being anointed by the woman with very expensive perfume, claiming that it could have been sold and the money given to the poor. It was an offering of a gift, and Judas led the cause to say, “Nay!” Never mind that the perfume wasn't his to sell: he was standing on the sidelines barking about what he would do with the money given the chance. His hunger for power is revealed in the next verses when he sells Jesus out to the authorities for money that was most definitely not given to the poor. Of course Judas is “supportive” of Jesus and the ministry up to the very end. And, according to the text, he is surprised that Jesus would even suspect that he was the betrayer among the disciples: “Surely you don’t mean me, Rabbi?” Trying to manipulate Jesus and the other witnesses with his false incredulity, this denial came after he had already sold information about Jesus to the chief priests.

But we don't, or at least shouldn't, follow the direction of manipulative naysayers. In fact, in the church, we follow an earnest yay!sayer in Jesus. When conventional wisdom said it was impossible, Jesus said yay! over and over again. One example of this is in the feeding of the 5000. The people were hungry for two things. First, they were hungry to hear Jesus speak. They wouldn't have followed him to the middle of nowhere otherwise. Secondly, they were now just plain hungry for real food. Jesus knew it, the disciples knew it, and the boy (in John's version at least) knew it. The naysayers (perhaps led by the selfish pragmatist, Judas?) told Jesus to send the people away with directions to the nearest village to eat, a kind of “help-people-to-help-themselves” approach. But Jesus knew they were all called to be miracle workers that day and suggested something, “You feed them,” at which I am sure the naysayers, who obviously knew best, laughed. It didn't make sense, but Jesus said yay! to the disciples living into who they were called to be: co-facilitators of miracles God is just waiting to perform through those who would trust him.

This is the God I love at work and I see it happening in pockets of our community: sometimes in our churches. But more and more, its happening outside of our churches, by yay!sayers who won't wait for permission by the power broking naysayers in churches to do the work at which Jesus would smile.

Judas lost his opportunity to live into the miracle of saying yay! to Jesus, and died lonely and bitter. But the same fate doesn't have to happen to our living naysayers. If you are in the extremely fortunate position to recognize that you are a naysayer, stop it, and find out what is really causing “nay!” to perpetually escape your lips. This may happen through a string of direct “no” votes to missional work in your community, or in passive aggressive ways addressed in the book quote above. If you are mindful of these things happening over and over, you really are fortunate to have such mindfulness. Take advantage of that self-awareness and choose another way! Secondly, seek help from your pastor or a counselor. You may be surprised that the saying of nay is actually covering up something that deeply wounded you a long time ago. The fact is that you will always be haunted by this habit if you don't address the root causes. Kind of like an aggressive dandelion patch. It might look good to simply mow over the top of them, but they will always always always come back unless you take care of the roots. Finally, befriend a strong yay!sayer and learn from them. Get the joy they feel in recognizing that the God they follow doesn't know the same barriers you have made up as a naysayer. You will see in them that life is just full of all sorts of possibility, rather than something to be endured or resisted. Impossibilities become achievable challenges.

I pray that the church can get its act together, but mostly I pray that the people who make up the church can get the help they need to live fully into discipleship. Because this not a game. It is not a social club. There are people dying in our world, starving for a Christian witness against violence, for feeding miracles to happen again, for the eradication of systemic oppression. It is absolutely urgent that Christ's disciples start following him to those places, many of which exist right outside the door of the sanctuary. I would love to have the naysayers on board with this mission, because quite honestly, the world needs all the help it can get. But disciples shouldn't be wasting their time arguing with naysayers: too many lives are at stake for that kind of verbal pattycake. Just get out and do it.

All those in favor of doing the work of Jesus, say Yay!

Like a tree, planted by the water

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither—

whatever they do prospers.

--Psalm 1:3

Last month Mira and I got to spend a wonderful weekend in the Redwood forest witnessing the beginning of her brother Justin's marriage to his, now, wife, Lilita. It was a wonderful time of community, celebration, sharing, and being in nature with friends and family. I am in awe of his circle of many many friends, who, filled with talent and vision, also provide a love and caring for one another that is unrivaled, even in church communities. We felt so welcomed and loved, engaging in deep conversations, laughing, dancing, playing music, and just being together. There was little anxiety about how things were going to get done (believe it or not there is a lot of preparation that goes into a camping wedding!), because people just did the work necessary, with glad smiles on their faces and in their hearts, because of their love for Justin and Lil. I was humbled to see this and be a small part of this community for a bit. The lesson is that when you love someone so much, you just do what it takes with joy in your heart.

But what I was really struck by, in that time in Northern California, are those great trees. I learned from the National Park Service website that the average age of the redwoods is between 500 and 700 years old, and that some of the biggest ones are up to 2000 years old. This means that most of these trees were between saplings and adolescent trees when Columbus began his American invasion, and by the time the American revolution rolled around in 1776, the majority of that forest that exists today was already between 300 and 400 years old. Of course, the oldest of the trees were just sprouting out of the ground when Jesus was born! As we witnessed the removal of the large tree in front of the parsonage this week (“measley” 3 ½ feet in diameter and only 39 years old!), I thought about those old trees and how many more of them there must have been before mass human habitation. The ones that remain have seen it all--although they have only seen it all from where they were planted. Imagine spending your entire life in literally the same exact place, not moving a single foot! Now imagine spending 20 more of those lives in the same place! Their lives firmly planted in the soil with roots spreading over a hundred feet away from their trunk, and encountering and witnessing life from a permanent position. It is grand and humbling, especially considering how much running around we humans do, declaring material things that we have made or bought as extremely important, and worrying about events that haven't happened yet. As I write this, I am worried about Mira and Auggie traveling, and how I'm going to cope without them for the next few days. But when I worry and rush, I miss out on the smiles Auggie is dishing out for free. I miss an opportunity to talk with my neighbor. I lose touch with the things that really do bring me joy, satisfaction, and contentment. While I am not an animist, I can't help but learn this simple and wise lesson from the trees: “God is always good. God will always provide. Live well, do your part, and God will let you know when its over.” I imagine that if they really did talk, it would be in a voice similar to Alan Rickman or James Earl Jones, rich and full.

Perhaps the community that formed in that grove of sequoias can inform me a bit in how I am with the people around me in the same way those trees informed the wedding party itself. Don’t constantly have an agenda with people. Just simply be present to them, the same way God calls us to presence with God. The same way the trees are a constant presence to whatever community forms in their midst. I pray that we as a human race can one day let go of the formation of strategies and structures that tie us down, and simply seek the real presence of the One and the ones in our midst.

Eric

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that. Ephesians 5:1-2

Our son Augustine was born on June 26, 2011. Of course, life has been utterly transformed, as we had been told countless times it would, and as we suspected it most definitely would. One of my friends, Bobby, who, with his wife Emily, have two great kids, told me before Auggie was born, that he suspected the birth of our child would (among many things) have a profound impact on my preaching. He expounded that it would expand and deepen my conception of how God cares interacts and cares for people as his children. As I have not preached yet, I don't know the effect Auggie will have, but his birth has given me some insights about life, God, and how we treat one another.

People are so generous with a newly formed family. People just can't wait to share stuff with you once you have a child. We have received so many baby clothes, diapers, toys, and various paraphernalia, that we have hardly had to buy anything to prepare for his arrival. The warm wishes and love that accompanied each gift (and many times stood alone on their own accord) have radiated through our house, beginning months before the birth. We are also thankful for the meals that were prepared for us. Mira's mom stayed with us for three and a half weeks, which was wonderful as she did so much to ease our transition and keep us comfortable, and sprinkled love all over our new family's home. And after she left, several friends from our small group and others from the area chipped in and brought over meals that satiated us and provided loving company that made us smile. Mira's best friend from high school and her mother visited for about four days, and lo! and behold! during their visit, a "grocery fairy" and a "laundry fairy" also visited. I am grateful for those loving fairies, whoever they were. Mira's brother-in-law and his fiance came, as well, bringing gifts, a willingness to help, and lots of love for Auggie, Mira, and I. My folks visited us, and they and my brother and sister in law, provided gifts, love, and provided all sorts of hospitality when we made the long trek up to the Spokane region for some rest and relaxation. A friend of mine from college even made a detour visit from a family wedding he was attending in Seattle, and surprised us with a flat of berries. Numerous showers dotted throughout provided by friends, neighbors, and church family gave us a rain storm of gifts and, of course, love. Love Love Love.

People just can't seem to resist smiling when they see a new baby. And people just want to do something for that baby's family. It really does make sense that this is how God views us all the time. There is no history between us because God consistently and persistently wipes the slate clean: God is overjoyed when we laugh and smile, and his heart breaks in our sorrow, the same way mine does when I see Auggie's tiny face cringe in fright or pain. Of course that is not always the purest way I react to Auggie's cries (which says a lot about my own impatience because when I get frustrated, its because Auggie has "selfishly" interrupted me with his needs), but I sense that is always the way God reacts to ours.

And then something will inevitably happen. People will stop smiling at us when the three of us walk down the street, no longer enamored with a newborn baby in their midst. While some people will always love kids and people, there will be many who will snap at us to keep our kid quiet; who will wonder why he is so messy and disrespectful. And eventually, when Auggie is able to make his own choices, there will be some who disagree with his choices, opinions, and lifestyle decisions, labeling him as doomed or problematic or a trouble-maker before he even has a chance to get to know them. It is hard to imagine with this two month-old baby in our midst, but it is true. And it is a truth that brings out many emotions in me.

My hope is that it doesn't happen in the church, with Auggie or with any other child of God. Having a newborn in our midst, it is easier to do this, but I am trying to see the world, not through the eyes of a newborn (which must be a wild experience!), but through the eyes of God - where I acknowledge that each person I see has at one point has been cared for as a baby. "That person is God's newborn baby." It is not always easy to do this. While visiting some friends the other day, we saw a man walking down the street with his son. I don't what had happened to instigate this, but over and over again the man kept asking the son, "Who's the liar? Who's the liar" When the son tried to say something, the man just kept repeating with more force, "Who's the liar? Who's a ****ing liar? ****ing liar! ****ing liar!" The son was in the fifth grade and our friend had had him in her second grade class. While it was easy to feel for the son, it was not easy to see this man as a newborn infant, treating his son with such disdain. But I believe God's heart broke and wept for both of them on that day: For the son who experienced such pain at the thundering and pounding voice of his dad, and for the father who himself must have been treated in a similar manner as a child. I pray the cycle ends at the son's generation. Sadly, the Christians too often play the role of the dad in this story, but that is because we (sometimes for entire lifetimes) stopped seeing the world the way God has taught us too: through God's eyes. Our houses get robbed, our child grows up, we get cut off in traffic. Stuff happens and we forget.

If Augustine makes a bad decision with drugs or alcohol, what labels will be permanently affixed to him? If Augustine decides that he is a fiscal conservative, will he be told to quit being a stodgy stick in the mud? If he decides that he's a liberal, will he be told to quit being such a bleeding-heart and get realistic about the world? If Augustine comes out as a sexual minority, what epithets will be thrown his way? It's hard to imagine Auggie in those situations, but consider this: the last person I thought ill of was a baby at some point in their lives. Do you think it was easy for their parents to consider that at some point I would be wishing evil upon their baby?

My prayer is that the lesson I have learned with Augustine: the appreciation of others for all the flavor they bring to life, having a God's eye view of the world, and the importance of expressed love in our relationships, sticks with me throughout all of his, my, and Mira's life together.

God's peace,

Eric

Give it up and follow me...

“When the young man heard this word, he went away grieving, for he had many possessions”

Matthew 19:22

The eye twitch. You ever get those? I've got one right now in my left eye. It's subtle, but I can definitely feel it. It has been there for about three weeks now, so I got concerned and started to read up on what can cause eye twitches. I first learned that I had to distinguish between an eyeball twitch and an eyelid twitch. Mine is definitely in the lid region. I took a brief quiz online, asking me all sorts of questions, inquiring as to my level of stress, my physical health and well-being, how much caffeine I take in, how often I sit in front of a screen of any type, and my mental health status. It turns out that I have been feeling a good deal of stress lately (new baby, personal and church finances, taxes, a task list that never gets shorter...), I drink at least two cups of coffee per day, and I spend a lot of time in front of the computer, all of which greatly increase the risk of the dreaded eyelid twitch. Of course, I should have seen the three-fold solution from a mile away: reduce the stress in my life, lower my caffeine intake, and get away from the screen. But the question is not whether I am able to do those things – it surely does not take a feat of super human strength to do any of them – but am I willing to do any of them? The fact is, if I want to reduce the symptoms, I will either have to do these things or get comfortable with an ever-twitching eye.

To the outsider, it seems silly to live with such an annoying thing just so I can continue my high-stress-lifestyle laden with coffee and computer time. “Do what you need to do to get healthy! Take care of yourself, for crying out loud!”

Therefore I find myself in the position of the rich young ruler. He had done all the commandments and yet was still left unfulfilled. And Jesus recognized that the man was still holding something back: “Go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come, follow me.” The man, who had been able to do all the other “important” commandments, was sad because he just could not muster up the courage to change this last part of his life. He chose instead to continue to live his unfulfilled life. I pray that I will muster up that courage to implement change in my lifestyle choices which have caused enough physical harm that my eye twitches.

Similarly, I have heard it said to many a church leader that if the church wants to grow in vibrancy and service, the solution is relatively simple: it needs to analyze how much of its energy is spent on its own internal operations. If that is greater than the effort it is spending selflessly in its community, then stop it. And if the church cannot stop it, “sell” what is preventing it, look outside of itself, and then let the church (the people who follow Jesus, not the building) begin living in non-self-serving ways in the communities that could most use its help and support. Simple solution. But extremely difficult to implement. Does the Church find itself sadly walking away from Jesus?

The story comes to mind of that older woman who attended a medium-to-large church with an aging congregation who lamented in a workshop that her church no longer had any young children in attendance. When asked by the workshop leader how many of the church members were volunteering at the public schools or at after school programs, or who was accompanying children of need in any significant way, she responded that there was not anyone she knew who was doing any of those things. The questioner than said, “Why do you want any young people to come to your church if you are not engaging with them in any way in the 'real world?' It sounds like your church is actually perfectly content with where it is at.” She was frustrated by the answer because it indicated to her the reality of what they were up against: it was not some outside force conspiring against the church, but it was their own decisions and misplaced priorities. That is a tough sell to a community.

My doctor cannot convince me to want a life without an eye twitch. She can present me with all the evidence, and the possible solutions, but it is ultimately me who must want a life that is twitch-free. Jesus could not (and did not, by the looks of it) convince the young man to want to be be free of his stuff and share with his impoverished neighbors. The workshop leader cannot convince the woman to want to be in relationship with the children in their town.

We can have the courage to pray to be transformed. But we have to put some meat on those prayers.

First, become familiar with God's mission. Where do we get familiar with God's mission? How about Jesus' life as recorded in the gospels? Matthew is a good place to start. Seriously, if you have questions like “What does God want my life to look like?” then read Matthew cover to cover and see if you find answers. Once we are familiar with God's mission as lived out in Christ (who thus commanded that his disciples also live out), then we pray to be shaped into a person whose mission is God's mission. We tell others of our prayers so they can pray for us. And we share with them where the spirit is moving us as a result of such prayers. If this is the pattern of our life, we pray with patience and become optimistic. We have optimism because, through this prayer pattern, God has greater ability to work through us, a willing piece of clay. But if this is not the pattern for our lives, and yet we still lament about church growth, or finances, or building issues, or eye-twitching, then we, like the young man or the old woman, better learn to get comfortable with where we are at, because nothing is likely to ever change.

I believe the Resurrection life is one that constantly asks the spirit to transform us and to shape us into disciples who are willing to let go of lifestyles that are harmful or unfruitful, and to prayerfully seek out a new way of being. God is yet alive and can do anything through those who give all of themselves over, holding nothing back: not even their coffee!

Peace,

Shane Claiborne

I wanted to encourage any of the three of you who read this blog to go see Shane Claiborne on June 2 in Portland. Don't wait to see if something else comes up. Don't procrastinate. Don't tell me that you have a church board meeting to go to. Call in sick. Cancel your plans. Just put it in your calendar and make that the thing you do. Trust me, it's that important. Go ahead. I'm waiting.

Okay, now that you have decided to go, here is some more information about the event.

Here is a blurb from the Ecumenical Ministries of Oregon website about the event:

June 2
Lecture by Shane Claiborne, "Follow Me: Exploring the Meaning of Being a Christian Disciple in the 21st Century." 7 p.m. at Imago Dei Community, 1302 SE Ankeny St., Portland. Shane Claiborne is a founding partner of the Simple Way, bestselling author, prominent Christian activist and sought-after speaker. Presented by EMO and cosponsored by the Luis Palau Association and the Oregon Center for Christian Values. The event is free and open to the public, and a free will offering will be received to support the event. For more information, call EMO at (503) 221-1054.

Also, here is a link to an article written on the United Methodist Portal website about Shane preaching at Duke University. http://www.umportal.org/article.asp?id=7788.

I wonder if we are dirty enough? Or are are we more concerned about the preservation of our institution than Christ being lived out in our communities?

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go to hear Shane talk!

Eric

In the Myst of It

I am grateful for this time of Lent. In our church, we are engaged in a thematic look at the scriptures called "Radical Companionship." Jesus accompanies so many different folks in his life, all who seem to be encountering Jesus at just the right moment. It is a powerful reflection on the life and ministry of Jesus, but for those of us familiar with the conclusion, the mystery of the end is what captivates us. I can't help but wonder what those folks with whom Jesus walked must have thought when they heard about his arrest, death, and rumors of his resurrection. What did that mean for their lives? Were they discouraged? Did they give up? Did it embolden them in the new direction their life took? Obviously, something took hold - and I think it is rooted in the mysteriousness of this Jesus character.

We have grown to fear mystery in our culture. We want cold hard facts, stats, and results. And this way works for our brothers and sisters who engage in the scientific method, such as biology, astronomy, or criminal forensics. The trouble is that our church often transfers this methodology into its evangelical endeavors. We are tempted to try to convince others of the case for God in scientific terms. "Here's how its possible, scientifically speaking, that dinosaurs only lived 4ooo years ago" or "Here's how its possible that a flood from a finite amount of water could have covered the entire earth and then receded to some other place." The story of our faith is not based on scientific possibility or probability. It doesn't hold up to the scientific method and we shouldn't try to force it. I would posit that the power of the story is not whether something did or did not happen in terms of scientific proof, but in learning how people of faith have been presented to respond to adversity, oppression, and their view of how God was in the midst of it. For us, this biblical story gives a fuller, but not complete view of God - God is yet alive, right? And sometimes this is an allegorical view of God's action in the world. If the Song of Solomon can be seen as allegory and not be literally true, then why not the flood story or two creation stories in Genesis? Does allegory make a story less true?

If it had been absolutely clear what had happened to Jesus (which it is not), meticulously documented by hundreds of cross-referenced historical sources (which it is not), would prayer be the constant challenge that it is for us? Faith wouldn't be the same - it would just be a matter of either getting a hold of the facts or not getting a hold of the facts. Anyone who didn't believe, or who doubted (and if we are honest with ourselves, we all doubt at some point in our lives) that person would not have a lack of faith, they just wouldn't have a hold of the facts. One thing of which we are certain, that this this not the case. Philosophers and theologians have tried for centuries, unsuccessfully, to come up with a "proof" for God based on logic and science. In contrast, I appreciate the challenge and struggle that faith's mystery gives to us, to believe in that which cannot be seen.

I doubt. And yet in this Lenten season, it is the act of mindful daily prayer even in the midst of it, not a presentation of unprovable "facts", that moves me closer to the mystery and loving it all the more. As we the church move closer to the remembrance of this mysterious resurrection, let us be aware of that unseen and unprovable God that is alive and well, in spite of our insatiable doubts.

The Philosophy of Groundhog Day

When I was in high school, one of my favorite movies was Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray. If you haven't seen the movie, first of all, see it. The somewhat silly “holiday” of Groundhog Day is about ready to happen, and what a better opportunity to honor this hypo-terrainian rodent than to watch the quintessential movie featuring the day that acknowledges him (the only movie that features this day)? Anyway, in the film, the main character played by Murray, named Phil ('Yes, like the groundhog Phil!') is a veteran weather forecaster who does an annual feel-good story on the official groundhog shadow-viewing that happens in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Only this particular year Phil doesn't feel all that good about this project, or any other thing in his life. He is going through the motions of his job, he has no friends, and his dating life is non-existent. Even doing something fun like going to Punxsutawney with his good-spirited producer makes him more cynical. He feels like his life is nothing more than a repeated series of events and that nothing that he does matters much to the world. Once in Punxsutawney, however, he literally experiences what it is like to live the same day over and over and over and over... He goes through the pain of acknowledging that this is the reality of his life (re-living Groundhog Day EVERY day), and is forced to begin that same day EVERY day with the same expectations people have of him: that he is a cynical schmuck who doesn't belong. The repetitive nature of the film gets on some people's nerves, but it is the repetition that drives home the point of the film. His experience of repeating the same day over and over again is a metaphor for his own life, and for many of our lives, feeling “stuck in a rut.” Nothing in his life was interesting anymore, and yet he was unwilling to do anything about it. Unwilling, that is, until he is splashed with the cold water of this harsh metaphor. So he decides to change the one thing he does have control over: himself. He takes his bad situation and decides to make the most of it, learning new languages and musical skills, being a good Samaritan, and learning to love and respect himself so that he could fall in love again.

As I will watch this movie again this year, I will ponder how the church and I are like Phil in a lot of ways, feeling stuck in the ruts we have dug out for ourselves. At one point in the film, Phil is lamenting his situation with some locals at the bar and says, “I was in the Virgin Islands once. I met a girl. We ate lobster, drank piña coladas... That was a pretty good day. Why couldn't I get that day over and over and over...” I think we do a lot of lamenting that things aren't the way they once were back in the good ol' days, or wishing that our current situation could be better.

At the United Methodist district training event in Forest Grove, I heard a woman from another congregation lamenting, “We used to have such a vibrant youth program in the 70's. What can we do to get them to come back?” Many churches share the same lament. The problem is twofold: first, the youth of the 70's aren't youth anymore. In fact, they have children who are youth; there's no going back to the 70's youth groups. Secondly, the reason things don't work is because church is not the automatic activity that people do anymore. Even in the 70's, the church was fading in terms of its prominence in American culture. We just didn't know it yet. We can't expect to hire a youth director, put out a sign and yell, “Youth group! Come and get it!”

So, just like Phil didn't get to choose what kind of rut he was stuck in, we don't get to choose our reality, either. We can't wish for things to get better, or that culture will just revert back to the days when computers didn't exist or kids didn't txt msg while their parents talked to them. The truth is that if we really want to be in “ministry” with children and youth in our communities, we will have to do a lot more with them in the places where they already are: not in the church. If we are unwilling to do that, then the church could very well end up like Phil, lonely at the bar, wondering why things couldn't be different, but unwilling to do anything about it in the moment.

I'm glad the film didn't end there. I am glad that our story is not over, either. We can change how we are. Instead of wishing or lamenting, what if we spent some time evaluating what skills we have to offer and how we can respond to real needs in our community? If you are retired or have a lot of free time during the day, is it possible that we can sit with a child over their lunch time for one day a week? Maybe you could be a mentor for one of the youth, scheduling a time to meet and talk about their lives? If you are already extremely busy, what are some ways that you can be the church in your existing community activities? Can you let people know that you are praying for them in their times of crisis? Are you being a calming Christ-like presence in stress-filled meetings?

The next time you find yourself lamenting the good ol' days, either in your personal life or in the life of the church, consider Phil. Then consider that this is your reality and that its up to you to answer the call and do something about it, to the glory of God!