Slowing Down

Ever since posting my "busy pastor" rant a few weeks ago I've been trying to slow down.

I'm failing.  Miserably.

What's your church cooking with?

I'm preaching this Sunday morning.

The theme is the church's role in nurturing faith at home.

I'll be talking about next generation faith. The church can stunt the faith of the emerging generation if young people are not encouraged to leave "home" one day.

Jesus did it to the disciples when he sent out the 72.
Paul and Barnabas did it when they left on their first missionary journey.

What would happen if a church adopted the value of empty nesting?

We'd probably see a lot more faith being fostered in homes. We'd probably also see a lot more people walking the talk.

Of course, it means we'd have to stop cooking with cheese.

Bad news...

I got some bad news on Tuesday.

Our Pontiac--the Cadillac of mini-vans--is dying

Rotten frame.  That was my mechanic's diagnosis after trying to attach the hoist to something solid.

He figures it'll last the summer.

It's funny.  The outside is fiberglass so it looks great.  It's underneath--the part you can't see--that's showing evidence of decay.

I hope vehicles don't emulate their owners.

Theology for 4-year-olds

I tucked my 2 favorite little people into bed tonight.

I read Shawna the story about Abram telling the Egyptians that Sarai wasn't his wife.  We talked about lying; and about how God takes care of us, even when we're afraid to do the right thing; and about not marrying your sibling.

I told Elijah the story of Jesus washing the disciples stinky, sweaty, poo-caked feet.  We talked about how that job was reserved for servants/slaves.  And we talked about how the most powerful person in the world volunteered to do the lowest job in the world.

And as I talked I got excited.  And I could tell that Elijah was getting excited too.

And after my theologizing was over he cut in the question that had been rolling around in his mind since the beginning of my homily, "Dad, where did the dinosaurs come from?"

I'm glad people don't ask questions after my Sunday morning sermon.

Staff Evaluation time

My annual staff review/evaluation is coming up on Tuesday.

In past years, I've answered a questionnaire about how well I was doing according to my ministry (job) description.

Things are different this year.  Since we're in a transition as a church, our interim lead pastor has asked us to answer questions like, "What's your primary ministry passion?" and "what's your vision for HMC?"  

There's even a question that asks how long we're committed to continue on staff at the church.

That tells me, our interim leader is looking to build a strong, committed team.  And he is open to new possibilities. 

So, anyone what to guess what I'm going to say to this one, "If you could rework your job description, what would you change?"

my family the church

I wonder what would happen if I treated my family like a congregation?

1.  We'd align our couch and chairs in rows whenever we watched T.V.

2.  If my kids wanted to talk to me, they'd have to make an appointment.

3.  I'd make special 'visits' to my wife.  She'd make tea and we would sit and talk about gardening and the neighbours.  Our time would conclude with me reading a Psalm.

4.  We'd have tailor-made family envelopes printed.  'The Mills family inc.' would receive money from individual family members.  The cash would be used to pay bills, my salary, and maybe a child in Spain.

5.  We'd buy another house.  A bigger house.  Just so we could run programs. 

6.  I'd have separate meal times for each of my 2 children.  I'd feed my daughter exactly what she wanted.  Then she'd go back to her room.  We'd have 25 minutes to get my son's favorite meal ready.  He'd eat, then wander back to his room. 

7.  When my kids were ready to leave home, and start their own families, I'd say 'no.'  Then I'd send them to their rooms.

I don't know about you but I'm ready for change.

Reflections on being busy

Currently, I've got a couple of Eugene Peterson books on my reading list. 

The other day, while reading, The Contemplative Pastor: Returning to the art of spiritual direction, I was convicted.

He writes:

"But the word busy is the symptom not of commitment but of betrayal.  It is not devotion but defection.  The adjective busy set as a modifier to pastor should be to our ears like adulterous to characterize a wife or embezzling to describe a banker.  It is an outrageous scandal, a blasphemous affront." The Contemplative Pastor, 27.

Being busy makes me feel important.  It can also be a smokescreen for a commitment I don't want to make.

Sadly, I'd rather say "I'm too busy," than tell the truth.

For me, being busy means:

1.  I haven't managed my time well, or

2.  I haven't said "no" to life's non-essentials. 

I need to make some changes.