I just received my copies of The Real Mary as a part of my agreement to serve on Paraclete’s “Real Mary Street Team.” Several of us around the country have agreed to host discussion groups for The Real Mary in December. This will coordinate with the release of the new movie, The Nativity Story. In this movie Mary will be played by Keisha Castle-Hughes of Whale Rider fame. Just the other day, we were talking about unwed mothers in a bible study group, and someone said they were afraid that churches tend to accept and encourage this behavior far too often. I said, perhaps a little too facetiously, “You know there’s this story about an unwed mother in the bible. Have any of you heard of Mary?” We had to pause and rethink our conversation just a bit. I look forward to reading this work and will comment on it on the blog some as well.

I’m about to finish reading a great book by Alan Jacobs: The Narnian: The Life and Imagination of C.S. Lewis. I’m not going to blog through this book, but it is an incredible biographical work on one of the great modern Christian authors. Jacobs interweaves Lewis’ life and work into a seamless exposition of the imaginative world of this amazingly interesting man. There are several surprises for a relative Lewis newbie like myself. Although I have read several of his works, I knew less about his life than I had imagined. For instance, I had no idea about the older woman he lived with for much of his adult life. There are aspects of Lewis’ life that I would love to recreate in my own. The section on the Inklings (a literary group that met at the local pub and included greats such as J.R.R. Tolkien, Charles Williams, etc.) is most fascinating. I can see myself now: gathered around a rustic wodden pub table with a small group of brilliant men and women discussing theology and the church. I think my English blood runs deep. Now, I would like to get my hands on a similar biography of Tolkien. Perhaps Jacobs will do us the favor of writing this as well! He would be excellent considering his lucid writing style, which is perfectly paced and describes the thought-world of Lewis perfectly.

This week I have been making several pastoral visits. As I bounce back and forth from living rooms to hospitals to nursing homes, I have had a variety of experiences. Pastors eventually realize that the pastoral visit is a complex interaction and their own responses are as varied as the people they visit. Although I’m not one to go for hard and fast categories, I have started sensing two different types of visits.

There are visits that I would characterize as “gifts.” Here, I enter the context as an agent of God’s grace. It is sheer gift. I expect nothing. The person I visit, even if the visit is planned, is gracious and sometimes genuinely surprised that their pastor cares enough to simply be there. It is a moment of community and grace. The other visits are “obligations.” These parishioners expect you there because it is what you are supposed to do. It is your obligation as a pastor, and they expect you to fulfill it. True to form, I enter the context of the visit as an agent fulfilling my duty. There is no sense of gift. At some level, I simply expect to have my “made visit” card punched. Predictably, the other person doesn’t respond graciously. Usually, these are the people you cannot visit often enough. I realize that everyone needs God’s grace and I try to model that, yet the dynamics are always different with people who receive life as something they are owed.

How do you and I approach life? Do we approach it as a gift or as something God is obligated to provide us with? Are we owed the great joy and suprising moments of grace we receive? I pray that I will begin to receive life and joy as a gift – sheer grace. It makes a world of difference in pastoral visitation, and I think it makes a profound difference in our lives.

This Sunday, we celebrated All Saints’ Day. I preached from the Isaiah 25:6-9 & Revelation 21:1-6a texts. This is completely unedited and as most of you may know the final product from the pulpit is somewhat different than the manuscript. So, here you go:

Today we celebrate one of the great days in the Christian Year. On the first Sunday of November, many churches celebrate All Saints’ Day. The very first mention of this day is found in a sermon from the year 402 A.D., and for the last 1,600 years there have been churches who used this day to remember all of those who have died in the faith. Now this was definitely not a day that we ever celebrated or even mentioned in the little church I grew up in – most people, if they had ever heard of it, would probably associate it with the Catholic Church. However, in recent years there are more and more protestant churches that are beginning to celebrate this day, commemorating the faithful followers of Christ around the world, both living and dead. For the most part, All Saints’ Day has become a time to remember the faithful who have died in the year preceding that particular Sunday.

In some church traditions, being a saint is seen as something totally out of reach. We think of people like Mother Teresa – those people who have devoted their entire lives to service in Jesus’ name. Yet, being a saint is not out of reach. In fact, I believe that if today is to be a faithful time of celebrating the lives of ‘the saints,’ it should be a time when we lift up those ordinary women and men who practice their faith in the ins and outs of everyday life. Those are the kind of saints we need to imitate.

There is a classic story about one of these saints told by Tony Campolo. There was a man named Joe who was addicted to alcohol. By God’s grace he was converted to the Christian faith at a mission in one of the worst parts of New York City. Before his conversion, Joe was known – at best – as a dirty hopeless wino with no future. Following his conversion, something profound happened. Joe became the most caring person that anyone associated with the mission had ever known. He spent his days and nights “happening by” the mission to do whatever needed to be done. There wasn’t a single task that was too lowly for Joe to take on. There was never anything he was asked to do that he considered to be ‘beneath him.’ If a bathroom needed to have vomit mopped up, Joe was the man. If a toilet needed scrubbing, Joe was the man. Joe did anything he was asked with a kind smile and gratitude for getting the chance to help. He could be counted on to feed those feeble men who wandered into the mission off the streets, and to carefully prepare those for bed who were simply too far gone to take care of themselves. One evening, the director of the mission held a worship service and spoke to the usual crowd of still and sullen men with drooped heads. One man looked up, came down to the altar, knelt to pray, and began to sob. “Oh God, I’m ready to change.” The repentant man kept shouting, “Oh God, make me like Joe! Make me like Joe, dear God! Make me like Joe; make me like Joe!” Finally the director of the mission came, and knelt down beside the man to pray, “Son…I think it might be better if you prayed, ‘Dear God, make me like Jesus.’” The man looked up with tears in his eyes and a puzzled expression on his face. He asked, “Is he anything like Joe?”

That’s what it means to be a saint. We need to be like Joe! When people are around a saint, they know it. Saints are those people who follow Jesus so closely that he starts to rub off. When you look at a saint, there is something joyful and worthwhile about them – they embrace the world with one hand and God with the other. They’re people worth imitating.

Our scripture lessons for today demonstrate what awaits those beloved followers of Jesus, like Joe, have to look forward to after death. So often, we offer people condolences and talk about our loved ones being in a “better place.” Yet, do we really look forward to heaven? When I was a kid, my brother and I once talked about heaven. I remember us worrying that heaven would be just like church – except it would last even longer. Imagine: heaven itself is just like church that never ever lets out for lunch – an eternal Sunday morning service. Are you ready to sign up? Now, even though heaven is described in terms of eternally worshiping in God’s presence – it also uses the metaphors of those things in this world that we love the most. I’m going to take an unofficial poll here: Raise your hand if you like to eat. All-right – that looks like a 98%, at least – the other 2% are asleep! Isaiah is talking about what lies in store for the faithful and he says it’s like an all-you-can-eat buffet of the greatest food you can imagine: a feast of rich food, the best of the best! And on top of that, death is going to be taken care of for good – no more suffering, no more cancer, no more nursing homes, no more bad kidneys. God’s going to take care of everything that is wrong with this world – all our tears will be wiped away. Revelation then fills in some of the blanks from Isaiah – there’s going to be a new heaven and a new earth – it’s going to be like the most luscious wedding reception you’ve ever attended, except far better! “God’s home is going to be with humankind; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” Now, does this sound like a never-ending Sunday service?

No way! This is the kind of vision that inspire people to live like Jesus! This is the kind of vision that inspires the ordinary Joes of the world! This is the kind of vision that make us want to be saints. To me, it takes a vision like this and the power of God to inspire the kind of life saints are called to live. Today we remember the saints – we remember the people in our lives who have stuck with the faith when everything went south. Today we remember the people in our lives who clung to their faith in spite of everything taking a nose-dive. Today we remember those people who loved life, who lived with a spirit of great joy, and who could find God in all the little things of our world. Today we remember those who looked at the mess they had made of their lives and turned it all over to God, accepting his grace, forgiveness, and salvation. Today we celebrate the countless Joes of our world. Today we celebrate the saints, and we look forward to that big family dinner that God has in store. Because, in the end, when all is said and done, God will wipe away all of our tears, God will take away all of the pain of this world, and welcome us to the greatest celebration of all time – the celebration of his goodness and presence that will never, ever end.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock, you’ve seen the scandal involving Ted Haggard the now former head of the National Association of Evangelicals. The article I’ve linked to has the following quote from Rev. Ross Parsley, “It is important for you to know that he confessed to the overseers that some of the accusations against him are true.” We don’t know what he has confessed to, and it likely doesn’t matter. Either way, there will be a huge fall-out over this.

<!––>One of the things I continue to notice is the media continues to speak of evangelicals as if they are a monolithic group. Of course, some who are more conversant with the movement will understand that evangelicals are as diverse as any group. There are fufundamentalist evangelicals and more liberal evangelicals.

Of course, none of us are exempt from falling. Let’s keep pastors in our prayers, and say a prayer for Haggard’s wife and five children. This has to be devestating.

<!––>On another note, Ben Witherington has an interesting post on the struggles of men in high profile independent evangelical churches and male menopause’s (that’s right – male menopause) possible connection to this story.

Update: It seems the word coming out now from the Haggard camp is that he bought meth, never used it, and got a massage from this guy. Here’s the latest story. This is the last time I’ll mention this whole ordeal; I’m sure it’ll get messier and stranger before it’s over.

For various reasons, I am now driving a 1991 Ford 4X4. But, before you criticize my total lack of ecological awareness, hear me out. Driving this 15 year old pickup has become a spiritual discipline. The windows do not work without extreme manual effort. Yes, they are electric, but the motors are so worn out I have to press up on the window with one hand while pushing the up button with the other. This vehicle is also a standard. For those of you who don’t know, that means I have to actually shift the vehicle. Because of the four wheel drive and other reasons, this truck does not drive very good at speeds over 55 mph. Therefore, I have been taking life much more slowly as of late. The air conditioner doesn’t work, the heater is oppresively hot, and it the truck smells of mildew because of a rainstorm after one of the broken windows was left cracked over night. Yes, this is an awesome vehicle.

However, I have been developing spiritually even as I drive. For the most part, I am learning the practice of patience. This truck is a little like the church. It’s not a new model, it requires hands-on attention, it isn’t always comfortable, and it is very slow. Yet, driving this finely tuned machine – the truck not the church – has allowed me to develop a slower pace of life, if only between stops on the two-point charge wonder-tour.

Who knows, God might even teach me true patience with enough time behind the wheel. Now, I’m not quite sure if I’m talking about the truck or the church…

If you are a pastor and have been to seminary, you really need to read this post by Scot McKnight. By now, you know that I find Scot’s posts to be consistently good, but this one is very important. I had the experience last week for maybe the first time. I said something about eschatology as if everyone in the world would know what it meant, and my layfolks stopped me and said, “Wait a second preacher…escha-whatogy?!” God bless them; I needed that. I’m thankful that they were not afraid to ask me that immediately.

I’ve been working on Charge Conference paperwork all morning, and I think I’ve uncovered quite a conspiracy. Every year as charge conferences approach for United Methodist pastors, you begin to hear grumbling and complaining about all the paperwork. I agree – there’s a ton of paperwork to be completed. However…there’s a conspiracy among pastors. A wise group of pastors long ago developed this pile of paperwork for a very good reason. We can use charge conference to excuse ourselves from anything we don’t like to do for at least two months! *Gasp* Everytime I’m too tired, busy, or lazy to do something, it’s because of charge conference. These two magic words exempt you from anything you don’t want to do! “Pastor, can you…” “Oh, I would love to, but you know it’s charge conference season…” The person then nods knowingly and walks away, pleased that his or her hardworking pastor is slaving over ‘the books.’ Amazing. Don’t tell anyone; it’s a secret.

All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed, he has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11:13-16 NRSV

Every time I visit the valley where I grew up, I have a longing to live there again. I don’t know if it is some weird sentimentality or a sincere desire to be rooted in a place where I have a history. As a United Methodist pastor, I’m a stranger and foreigner in the places I live. It makes me think of the exiles. In Israel, all of the exiles were known by name. They weren’t just anonymous Israelites stuck in a foreign land.

Abraham left for a foreign land as well, and left behind his identity as Terah’s boy and Nahor’s grandson. He knew every back road and side street in Ur, but he didn’t know the land where God was sending him. Abram could point out every house and tell you who lived there for two generations, but he left it behind.

I’ll bet Abraham thought about the land he left behind all the time. The author of Hebrews tells us he had the opportunity to return, and we all have that opportunity as well. We could settle down on a nice piece of land and do what it takes to make a living and practice an easy faith. Wouldn’t that work?

Hebrews also tells us that these strangers and foreigners desired a better country. I’m reminded of the song, “Sweet Beulah Land,” by Squire Parsons:

I’m kind of homesick for a country
to which I’ve never been before
No sad goodbyes will there be spoken
And time won’t matter anymore

Beulah land I’m longing for you,
and someday on thee I’ll stand.
There my home shall be eternal
Beulah land…sweet Beulah land.

I’m looking now across that river
to where my faith is gonna end in sight.
There’s just a few more days to labor,
then I’ll take my heavenly flight.

Beulah land I’m longing for you,
and someday on thee I’ll stand.
There my home shall be eternal
Beulah land…sweet Beulah land.

The strangers and foreigners who are our predecessors in the faith longed for a better country and I pray that I’ll desire that country too. Their witness is powerful; no wonder God is not ashamed to be called their God.

Here is a link to Scot McKnight’s blog. He has a neat article on the emerging movement that will be worth your time to read. Click on the “Foolish Sage” link within this post to reach the article.