The Adventure Continues…
. I’m sitting in a La Quinta Inn in Missoula, Montana heading to Seattle. All around us are people on vacation, but not us. We are moving. I know, everyone is moving, but we really are moving.
I have been invited to launch a new church in the community of Edmonds, Washington, where we lived for ten years. We are excited to reconnect with our many good friends and develop new friendships as well. Edmonds is just north of Seattle along the Puget Sound. Ferry boats shuttle folks across to Kingston, and sea lions bark along the shore while they wait for the salmon to run.
Downtown Edmonds has quaint shops and boutiques. Jerilyn Brouseau ran a great café in town with the best pecan rolls I have ever tasted. Of course she no longer runs it since she sold her recipe to Cinnabon for a small fortune. I guess it was the best they had ever tasted too.
The next few months will be filled with evaluating and researching best options for location, building a leadership team, and developing strategy for new congregation. I taught ‘New Paradigms for Congregational Renewal’ at Fuller Seminary for about ten years, but after my experience at Colonial Church of Edina, I am starting to question whether old, hardened people in old hardened churches can experience true spiritual renewal. I guess now I am going to try “Newal”. I believe that you can plant a new congregation across the street from an old dying church and the new one will grow and bubble with life. I wish it wasn’t so, but wishing doesn’t bring the fresh winds of the Holy Spirit to the old dry church.
So here’s to Newal and all that is to come… Bye for now.
“Growing Up, Going Bald: Reflections Off the Top of My Head”
I think this will be the title of my autobiography. I always saw the wisdom of Jimmy Buffet, (not Warren Buffet though he is wise too). His insight was, “I’m growing older but not up.”
This week I am coming to grips with some of the realities of life and my need to embrace a few limitations. I am going to set aside any thoughts of being a professional football, baseball, or NBA basketball player. It probably isn’t going to happen. Neither will a long successful career on the pro golf tour. Though I remember when I announced in church that I had turned 50 and was now ready for the ‘Champions Tour.’ Then I realized it was necessary to actually have game. Oh well.
While I’m at the limitation game, I better let you know that I’m setting aside the dream of being rock/ country music star. I’m setting aside the bright lights, cheering fans, tough life on the road, and huge record contracts. Growing up I had assumed I would be the amalgam of Kris Kristofferson and Mick Jagger. Oh well.
What does that leave? Are there any dreams to pursue? What can a person do who is growing older but not up? Plenty!
In I Corinthians 13, Paul writes of putting away childish things, and responding to life as a grown person. There is wisdom in these words. For myself, I think: Now that I’m free from all that I didn’t do, I am free for all that I will do.
This week, Eileen and I are going to participate in a two day ‘life transition’ program. It will involve assessment and evaluation of experiences, gifts, skills, values, to help us move toward the future, with better understanding and shared commitment. I will let you know if it turns out as good as we hope. If it’s a bomb I’ll let you know that as well.
So here I go, taking steps of faith that look a lot like the steps of faith I had to take at every stage of my life. Maybe that’s the way God planned it.
By the way, a few days ago at our Minikahda Country Club, I shot three birdies in a row for the first time and actually played some pretty good golf. Will I make it on the Champions tour? Naw. But I had a good day with a good friend, who after losing to me, went and signed up for lessons. Oh well.
Have a great day!
Life Lessons from Immigrants
Yesterday I was lunching with two former staff members/good friends in Walnut Creek, California. We went to a small Persian restaurant because Frank (Dr. Burroughs) lived most of his life in Iran and knows most of the Persian people in town. Tim Halls (soon to be Doctor Halls) has traveled with me through some of the most remote and interesting places in our beautiful world.
I always feel more cultured and even a little smarter when I’m with these friends. Between us we had fluency in Portuguese, Farsi, Spanish, Japanese, Arabic and English (that was my contribution). We sensed the wait person did not understand us very much so every effort was made to use different languages hoping to resonate with her. When nothing seemed to work, we finally asked what language she spoke, French. Of course. I saved the day, “Merci”, I responded. Whew that was a close one.
Soon we were talking about Tim’s doctoral research and its cultural implications for ministry. There are connections of experience between Latino immigrants and Muslim immigrant communities. Evidently bonds of relationship are forming and children are growing up together in ways that may forever change the social fabric of our land.
I was interested to learn that both groups find it natural and appropriate to talk of God and faith in their everyday lives. This is not always a comfortable phenomenon for Anglo-Americans. I remember being taught that we were not to talk about money, politics or religion in polite company. Of course I still think that is true for money and politics.
However because of this communication inhibition, it is difficult for us white guys to even broach the subject of faith, or to inquire about a person’s view or experience of God in their lives.
I got to thinking that the rise of Hispanic and Muslim populations in our country may lead those of us in the mainstream churches to finally let go of our resistance and begin to share authentically about our relationship with Christ and God’s fingerprints all over our lives. Maybe we can grow to the point that discussions of faith are natural, meaningful and welcomed as they are for our Hispanic and Muslim neighbors.
Thank you Frank and Tim for your gifts of friendship and wisdom.
Deja Vu
Last weekend I felt like I fell into the Tom Hank’s movie, ‘Terminal’. Flying home from Puerto Rico we had a little connection in Newark. No big deal- we thought. Now after 2 airlines, 2 hotels, 3 bumps, 1 bump up, and 3 days we arrived home.
Kathy, the gate attendant for Northwest Air was fabulous. She managed to arrange 6 free tickets for us, endless food coupons and First Class tickets home. She has officially announced my new name is: ‘John Windfall’. I look forward to seeing her the next time we get routed through Newark.
Usually I just go through airports. They are an unpleasant but necessary part of our travel scenarios. It is easy to focus on the ‘getting there’ and miss a marvelous slice of life. Now after about three days in one airport I have a new perspective.
First of all, look at the people: (mostly invisible). Some of our new friends include:
1. Rita, who gives chair massages at the airport spa. I may never be able to stand again after what felt like a truck backing over me. I was even able to practice my new Spanish skills as I cried for mercy, “No mas!”.
2. John and Heather who were desperate to get a seat back home, (we gave them ours.)
3. Jim the Medtronic Executive who was a member of two churches that I served. He is having shoulder surgery this week so pray for him.
4. Of course I won’t forget the godfather of the Russian mob who was holding court in the Wyndam dining room day and night. His wife came for dinner dressed like old world royalty. Lots of respect was shown by diners at the every table.
5. I can’t leave out Ellen the soon to retire flight attendant that traveled with us from the hotel elevator, lobby bus, train, terminal shuttle, and there she was welcoming us onto the plane.
The world (and the airport) is filled with interesting people if we take the time to notice. I guess it’s true about the journey being as important as the getting there.
I wish you all an adventurous journey, with real folks along the way.
Full Circle
Thirty Two years ago on Good Friday, I preached my first sermon. It was in the chapel at First Presbyterian Church in San Diego. My Mom said, “you did good.” Whether or not it was ‘good’ didn’t really matter- she was proud of me and that meant a lot.
This year on Good Friday I was back in the chapel at old First Pres. in San Diego. This time I stood in that same pulpit and said goodbye to Laurel Westfall – my Mom.
Isn’t it strange that after speaking at hundreds of memorial services and funerals for these thirty two years, now it’s personal?
Mom was a unique, unrepeatable miracle from God. Born in Texas from a long line of Texans, she grew up in Los Angeles where her father ran Hollywood Park Racetrack. She never missed opening day at the races and even got to go to the Kentucky Derby a few years ago.
She liked to tell about Walt Disney coming to the house with toys for the children. (We thought he went to everyone’s home.) She loved to dance and was a great traveler. She was strong enough to take us four kids to live in the jungles of Africa as missionaries and she had an unwavering faith in the Lord throughout the twists and turns of life.
Independence was so important that sometimes it seemed as if she had raised four ‘only children’ in the same family. We were each quite different which was fine with Mom.
Generous isn’t strong enough of a word. Whatever she had could just as well be given to someone else (friend or stranger.) I’ve seen her give necklaces to people who happened to mention that they liked the one she was wearing at the time. Our friends, Randy and Nancy Rowland found this out when they stayed overnight with my folks. Mom gave Randy a robe to wear, and he mentioned what a nice robe it was. Without a word, Mom drove over to Nordstrom and in the morning presented them each with a new robe.
I am probably the man I am today because of her love, faith and character. So, standing in the pulpit of the First Presbyterian chapel, I couldn’t help but be grateful and think, “Mom, you did good!”
It Doesn’t Take Much
It’s early on a Saturday morning and I’m sitting at the Cinabon stand getting ready to fly home after participating in the National Pastor’s Conference in San Diego. I’ll write more about the conference later, but right now I want you to hear about this:
I just finished a conversation with a man who walked up to me and made small talk about computers. He was friendly but I of course had a little bit of wondering if I was being sold something. He told me he was on his way to Detroit, I mentioned that I was heading home to Minneapolis. I mentioned that I was having one of my last visits with my mother this week. Jim (his real name) began to tear up and shared how he was a four year cancer survivor. Congratulations.
I asked him what was different in his life now, and he told me that a few weeks ago he went out and bought a sailboat. He had always wanted one, but it was never the right time or circumstance. We laughed and cried and chatted together. I thanked Jim for his kindness and for the nice visit. He paused and said, “It doesn’t take much to make a friend.” Then he handed me something and said,” keep this and remember me.”
It was a brand new James Madison freshly minted dollar coin. I told him that I would remember.
So, for Jim and all of you who become a friend, thank you for stopping, chatting and sharing your lives, it doesn’t take much.
Thinking about Fishing and Evangelism
Perhaps it’s time to take back evangelism from the evangelists and get back to sharing our faith in a way that looks more like Jesus’ Style.
“Come follow me, and I will make you a fisher of men.” With this simple invitation and promise, Jesus set the priority and expectation that his followers will use have a contagious faith that draws others into a relationship with Jesus as well.
I like that Jesus used Peter’s identity and career choice as the means of reaching others with the Gospel. Obviously, Peter knew fishing, was good at it, and felt quite comfortable when he was out doing what he loved. He also ran the family fishing business, so he had a whole web of relationships, friends and contacts from his fishing business that would become his ‘mission field.’
So why is evangelism misunderstood today? Why do we cringe a little when someone talks about introducing someone to Jesus? I think our discomfort may be directly related to our drifting away from Jesus’ original call.
I have been in many churches that want to be evangelistic; think about evangelism; and believe it is important for followers of Jesus. They just don’t do it. Why not?
Perhaps it is because the training and programs that promote evangelism place everyday people in situations of maximum discomfort and unnaturally controlled settings. Contrived answers to rigged questions, phony ‘surveys’, witnessing without personal relationships, all in an atmosphere of pressure and score keeping.
Our efforts at evangelism seem more like a fishing derby than a fun fishing trip with friends. What if our evangelism ministry in the world resembled a group of friends on a fishing expedition? How different would that be?
Write me about your fishing experiences and lets see if we can come up with a new and exciting strategy for reaching men and women with the good news of Jesus.
Still Crazy After All these Years
Today, I’m sitting in Kinko’s in Escondido, California just north of San Diego. Each year at this time we stay at our time share and reconnect with family and friends. This week, Eileen spent time with her old college roommate whom we hadn’t seen in over 35 years. She visited their quilting group and had a good time remembering times past.
We also celebrated our 37th anniversary, by returning to the restaurant at the beach in Cardiff by the Sea, where she had her big brain seizure last year that put her in the stroke ward of the hospital. I figured that she hadn’t gotten to finish her French fries, so we ought to venture back. And if she did get taken to the hospital in an ambulance, at least we wouldn’t have to pay for the lunch. So there is always a bright side. I’m pleased to report that there was no repeat incident, and Eileen was happy to say, that she is officially healed from the seizures. So we are blest.
When I look back on our marriage, it is amazing how we have remained basically the same unique, individuals we were so many years ago. She is still diligent and reliable, and caring. I am still rebellious and outspoken, and idealistic. Together we probably make one good person. I think we are drawn to people who are strong in areas that we aren’t. Then, we spend our time trying to get them to stop being that way. Somewhere along the road, we reach a point where we realize they are who they are, and that they aren’t going to change, so we might as well appreciate the differences. I think at that point we discover that “Where love rules… There is no will to power.”
Now that I think about it, isn’t that what happens in churches as well. We enter a congregation, looking into people’s eyes and wondering, “do I like who I am in their eyes?” Thus our esteem is built not on how we see ourselves, or in how others see us, but it is based on How I think others think of me.
I have this crazy dream that church can become the place where we are known for who we really are, and loved regardless. Perhaps because I’m the same idealistic person I was 37 years ago, I am going to hold on to that dream for the church… it is already happening in this crazy difficult thing we call marriage.
I hope you remember who you were so many years ago. You can still be that person. It isn’t too late.
My own belated Birthday
Well it’s my birthday today, also Eileen’s birthday. I feel particularly grateful this year. Of course with my Mom’s health issues, I am grateful for her love throughout my life. I am also very mindful of the value of friends particularly during times of transition.
I just returned from Seattle where we spent several days with long time friends whose relationships go all the way back to our ministry at University Presbyterian Church. To hear the stories of how God used us in different ways to impact the lives of each other and the city was amazing. It got me thinking of how my life would be different if it weren’t for the relationships that have been formed at different times of my life.
I’m feeling a little sentimental, but hey, it’s my birthday, so give me some slack.
We are heading out to see Kite Runner. I just finished the book after carrying it around for two years or more. It was a book that I couldn’t get into, but then I couldn’t put it down. I have put off seeing the film version because I didn’t want the ending spoiled. I still remember how someone told me the ship sank in Titanic- and that ruined the whole thing. (:{>
Any Who… wherever you are tonight, light a candle on a Hostess Cupcake and sing Happy Birthday to the whole world. Bye for now.
Your Stories
Everybody has a story to tell. Everyone has a book in them. After authoring three books, I took a hiatus for a few years taking a break from writing. Perhaps I’m too much of an extrovert to invest the alone time putting thoughts to print. I also have the misperception that only special people write books.
But if we believe that everyone is special and experiences life in a unique and personal way, than I want to encourage all of you to start writing your book this year! Tell your story. Tell your dreams. Share your struggle, and share your wisdom. Wouldn’t it be great to make this the “year of writing dangerously?”
I prefer novels for my personal reading. I was the only professor at Fuller Seminary who required Stephen King’s book On Writing as required reading for the course on Homiletics (preaching). I told the class that telling stories communicates the gospel in an intriguing way. So why not learn from one of our greatest story tellers?
Eileen is hooked on true crime books and biographies of interesting people. Though that doesn’t seem all together interesting to me, I decided to give it a try the last couple of weeks.
I just finished reading a book that I loved! I bought it for her at Christmas, but when she finished it, I grabbed it up. Steve Martin has written about the early part of his life growing up and growing into stand up comedy. I found my own history throughout this fabulous book. I even used to work at the Ice House nightclub in Pasadena where he developed his unique style of comedy. His analysis of the theory behind his whacky humor was just like the process I go through in preparing a sermon.
He majored in Philosophy at UCLA, so its no wonder he integrates thoughtful observation of life into a seemingly disjointed physical comedy approach.
His movies are often retelling stories of classic literature: Cyrano de Bergerac, Silas Marner, Homer’s Odyssey, and Dostoevsky’s The Idiot.
Anyhoo, I was inspired. So I might even claim this gift of time to rekindle the flame that burns within me. What about you? What story do you have within you that a little encouragement will bring to light?
