Well, technically, I wasn’t on a retreat. I was at the 2010 Academy of Missional Preaching (Southwest). But it was held at the Serra Retreat Center in Malibu, and there were retreat-ish aspects to it. If you needed to work on a sermon, you could go sit in a garden like the one above and think about what you were trying to say. It was a pretty harsh existence, but we must all be prepared to sacrifice for the Kingdom.

Of course, it was not only about preaching, it was about missional preaching. (Missional is the idea that the church exists as an instrument used in God’s mission to the world. See John 20:21, Acts 1:8, etc.) In addition to preaching, we also got to hear various speakers including John Dally (Choosing the Kingdom) and Darrell Guder (Missional Church).

During the celebration of Bishop Padovese’s funeral Mass, the Turkish TV station NTV announced that the 26 year-old driver, Murat Altun, had confessed to killing the bishop. He died after being stabbed 25 times, eight of them in his heart, and was almost completely decapitated by Altun, who said he murdered Bishop Padovese because he had received a “divine inspiration.”

NTV added that Altun shouted “Allahu Akbar” a number of times after the murder, despite having presented himself as a Catholic.

Please remember the friends and family of Bishop Padovese in your prayers, and everyone who faces the possibility of martyrdom for their faith. Please also pray for everyone who feels called to murder others by “divine inspiration.”

As a judge, Samuel may have been tolerable–if you read the book of Judges, you see that’s not a very high bar to jump–but his sons, like Eli’s, were poor candidates to succeed him. In chapter 8, we read they “took bribes and perverted justice,” and the people, who had enough of judges, clamored for a king. (From the frying pan to the fire.)

God picked Saul to be king and Samuel anointed him, but Saul wasn’t such a great king, and in chapter 15, God announced, “I regret that I made Saul king.” When Samuel gave him the bad news, Saul’s only response (1 Samuel 15:30-31) was to ask Samuel to take part in a charade so people would think he still had God’s blessing–and the amazing thing is that Samuel agreed! When God finally told Samuel to anoint David as successor to Saul, Samuel asks, “How can I do that? If Saul hears of it, he will kill me!”

Good grief, Samuel! On top of everything else, you’re a chicken? I mean, I could understand if I was afraid to do what God called me to do. I might go along with a deceptive, meaningless ritual, if the king pressured me. But Samuel, you’re a prophet! You’re supposed to be this great man of God, and here you are, all human.

But that’s the point, of course. Samuel was always like that–he didn’t change. But God used Samuel to do great things despite his very real flaws. God does it all the time: look at the story of Abraham. Or Moses, or David. Or Peter and Paul. God uses flawed people because–except for Jesus–that’s all there is. Just flawed people.

Just people like you and me. So what about you? Are you afraid? Did your kids turn out different than you thought they would? Are you old, or frail? Are you sick, or tired? If people would wonder why God would ever use you to do great things, you’re the kind of person God works through! Maybe it’s already happening. You better watch out.

A neighboring empire had attacked Israel and Jerusalem was under siege. The city was surrounded, so nothing could get in or out, and people got very, very hungry. But one night, God caused the besiegers to hear the sound of a great army. They became frightened and fled, abandoning their camp outside the city.

Inside Jerusalem, nobody knew the enemy was gone. But outside the city gates were were four lepers. Like those in the city, they were hungry, and they decided to defect to the enemy. When they arrived, and found the enemy missing, the Bible says, “they went into a tent, ate and drank, carried off silver, gold, and clothing, and went and hid them.” Then on to the next tent—like the Grinch stealing Christmas.

But after awhile, the lepers said to one another, “This isn’t right. This is a day of good news, and we aren’t sharing it with anyone! Come on, let’s go back and tell the people at the palace.”

The story might not be familiar, but this picture is one that Christians should recognize. We are like the lepers: we’ve stumbled on treasure we did nothing to earn. (Similarly, Jesus compares the Kingdom of God to someone who found a treasure hidden in a field.)

We can be happy, like the lepers, and enjoy what we’ve found. What we can’t do is keep it to ourselves. We need to share the good news with people who haven’t heard it yet.

Too often, however, Christians model their behavior after people in other Bible stories. We act like a watchman posted announce the approaching doom (Ezekiel 3:16-21). Certainly there is a role for the prophetic messenger—but how often do we pick that role, instead of being called to it?

It isn’t easy to admit you’re a lucky leper. To admit everything good in your life is a gift God put in your path. But for most of us, it’s more honest.

This is the holiday season: A month of parties and special occasions between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, a time to gather with friends and family in celebration after celebration. Some people you know may be like the miserable victims of Jerusalem’s siege. Can you be like one of the “lucky lepers” and share your good news with them?

Note: this article originally appeared in the Yucca Valley Hi Desert Star on Wednesday, December 2, 2009.

Several of you have asked me that question. As you know, I’ve worn a minister’s robe in worship since arriving at Desert Hills. But I quit this summer. Now fall has come, and soon winter will be here, and I haven’t resumed wearing the robes. Why not?

I guess I’m not really sure. There are arguments for and against ministers wearing robes. On the one hand, it’s certainly convenient for the minister. It keeps his or her clothing from being a distraction. I can go right ahead and spill my coffee on my tie, or wear the same clothes two Sundays in a row, and nobody will know.

The robe also symbolizes my education. I got a fancy frame for my diploma, but you have to go to my study to see it. The robe is like a diploma you can wear. I doubt if that’s why Calvin began the practice. He supposedly began wearing his academic gown because his church was cold and drafty–or so the story goes. I suspect it was really for the same reason a chef (still) wears a tall white hat: in the middle ages, everyone wore unique clothes to indicate which guild they belonged to.

I’m not entirely persuaded by either of those reasons. It’s true that some people still wear uniforms — chefs, police and postal workers, and of course people in the armed forces. Doctors wear lab coats and carry stethoscopes. But nurses, on the other hand, don’t wear uniforms any more. I mean, they wear uniforms, but they aren’t uniforms: they’re all different. Where they used to be white and austere, now nurses’ clothes are laid-back and colorful. The idea seems to be that sick people are tense enough; the nurse doesn’t need to add to it. I think the same is true for when you see your pastor.

As for education, things have changed since Calvin’s time. Few back then could even read, and they couldn’t afford a Bible anyway. Today, at least in this country, everyone can afford a Bible, and if someone can’t read, there are always audiobooks.

But beyond that, the robe isn’t effective as a symbol of education, because even professors don’t wear robes any more–except on graduation day. I’d hazard to guess that more people associate the robes with how Bible characters dress than with scholars.

That’s dangerous. It’s one thing to say someone went to school. It’s another thing to put them on a pedestal and say they’ve got some special religious “juice.” The person on the pedestal is supposed to be Jesus. You can have someone ship you water from the Jordan River, but we discourage people from being baptized in it, because water is supposed to be ordinary water. The bread we eat in the Lord’s Supper is just regular bread. The whole point is that God uses ordinary stuff to do extraordinary things. The same is true about ministers.

Ultimately, the question of robes is a judgment call, like your preference in Bible translations–there is an element of personal preference. But there’s also a deeper question: does it help or hinder in carrying out the mission of the church? In that sense, having robes is more like the decisions our Session makes when it schedules the church’s worship services, or how frequently we celebrate communion.

What do you think? Should ministers wear robes? Why, or why not? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject. Give me a call — let’s talk!

He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

– Isaiah 40:29-31

I began to put on a little weight a couple of years ago. This, without any obvious changes in my diet or exercise. My doctor told me, “Well, that’s middle age for you.” (She put it a little more politely than that, but that’s the message that came through.) So I’ve been watching my diet and trying to get more exercise. I’ve also begun to notice health and fitness articles in the news more than I used to.

A recent survey suggests that even the oldest people benefit from exercise. The 3-year survival rate for active 85-year olds is three times as high as the rate for sedentary ones. (“Active,” in this study, is four hours’ exercise a week, and the “exercise” didn’t have to be lifting weights or running marathons: it could be as simple as taking a couple of 15-minute walks a day.)

That’s encouraging to me. But another finding was even more interesting: It’s never too late to start. Even 85-year olds who became more active after a lifetime of sedentary living still had double the survival rate of their inactive counterparts!

There are so many things in our culture that tell us the opposite message. It’s too late to change. The die is cast. We’ve made our beds and now we have to lie in them. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Our faith teaches us that’s a lie. It’s never too late to change, because our God is a God of second chances. “Remember me when you come into your kingdom,” the thief said, and Jesus replied, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:42-43)

But it’s not just about eternal life. Or, rather, eternal life isn’t just about life after death. Eternal life is a new kind of life that we experience in Christ now, and will continue to enjoy after death. The Apostle Paul put it this way: “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”

Where are you experiencing that newness in your own life?

Maybe you could take up a new pastime.

Maybe you can let bygones be bygones, and forgive an old enemy.

Maybe you can invest in a new relationship.

Or perhaps you’re like one of those people in the study who has been living a sedentary life, and you could become more active.

I’d love to hear ways you’re experiencing newness in your life. And until next time, be a blessing!

Here it is, almost fall again! Where did the summer go?

A highlight of the summer for me was our brief trip to the Navajo Nation in Arizona. We were privileged to visit St. Michael’s Association for Special Education and the evangelical (Protestant) church at Hunter’s Point, along with several others from our church.

This type of ministry is the essence of what Jesus meant when he told us to be his witnesses (Acts 1:8). Too often, we assume that someone else will do it for us. “The church does that,” we think. But “the church” can’t go on mission trips. The church can’t visit someone in the hospital. The church can’t tutor someone who’s trying to learn to read or to speak English. People have to do those things, and I’m so happy that people who do, call this church home.

The church, of course, has a role in carrying out the mission of Christ in this world. Sometimes, we have to partner with others in our church to achieve what Christ calls us to do. As just one example, there are homeless people in our community who could actually afford to rent an apartment–except for the startup costs (first and last month’s rent, utility hookups, etc.). Believers at Desert Hills help to address that need by giving A.R.C.H. money through their contributions to the church’s mission budget. (For another example, see the article in this issue. We support the food pantry individually by donating food, and together as a church with our contributions.)

The second thing our church does is equip the saints (you and me) for ministry (Ephesians 4:11-16). The things we do as the gathered church–our Sunday worship, fellowship activities, and education programs –all function like the “huddle” a football team goes into before each play. When we’re finished with our “huddle” we disperse, going back into the world to carry out our Commission.

With summer winding down, we will be resuming our second worship service. Last spring, our two services were practically identical; the only significant difference was that the choir sang in the first service. This fall, we’re going to be looking for ways to give each service its own flavor. The choir will participate in the first service, as before. In the second service, I’m going to begin using multimedia (i.e., a projector). I have some ideas about how that can enhance the worship experience. This will give me a “laboratory” to experiment, by projecting scriptures and prayers on the screen, referring to other scriptures, including visual aids, and so forth.

No matter which worship service you prefer, you will be able to participate in a Bible Study this fall. If you come for the first service, stay for a Bible study afterwards. Or come for a Bible study during the first service, then join us in worship afterward.

It’s always exciting in the fall as we shake off our summer doldrums and ramp up our programs. I think our “huddles” will be even more helpful to us this fall. But nobody goes to a game to watch the huddle. What really matters is what we do after the huddle. If you’ve got ideas about things we can do as a church to help one another carry out the Great Commission between Sundays, give me a call. I’d love to talk with you about them. And until next time, be a blessing!