Musings from a New Pastor

2011-07-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

Deadlines. Depending on your point-of-view, you either hate them or love them. Rarely are we ambivalent. For example, you probably love payday -- the deadline for your company or organization to have their personnel payment issues in order. But, you might hate deadlines at your job -- the looming calendar guillotine for turning in a project or completing a necessary task. Bedtime was a non-negotiable deadline when I was a kid. (As a night-owl, I hated it. But I think my parents loved it.) April 15, every year... Let's just say I'm glad I don't work at the post office.

When I first began serving in ministry, I wasn't sure how I felt about deadlines. Discipleship weekend deadlines were made to be broken. Camp registration people were too legalistic; after all, this kid needs to be there! I felt guilty enforcing deadlines. After all, God is merciful and gracious! I wanted people to see mercy and grace in me as a follower of Jesus. What's an hour? A day? A week? After all, people were often all too enslaved by their calendars!

This week, we are wrapping up registration at our church for the "More Than a Backpack" outreach effort. Together with other churches from our local Baptist Association, we are helping provide backpacks and school supplies to needy families in our area. Registration began in May and was slow, like the trickle from a leaky faucet. But this week is the last week for registration, and the flood has come. And it's great. But today is the last day of registration, and now have come the flood of calls, wanting information. And when they hear that today is the last day, sometimes there's a call for leniency. "We can't make it today." "Please, please, pretty please, with a cherry on top, can we come by tomorrow?" "The car is out of gas." "The dog is having surgery." "We just found out." "We just moved here." Some requests seem more reasonable than others, some just make me feel fat guilty. What's one more day?

Years ago, as I struggled with this same issue, I was gently reminded in a moment of prayer that sticking to deadlines is, in fact, a very good thing to do. A godly thing, actually. Perhaps even worshipful. Deadlines remind us of the truths of eschatology, which is a fancy way of saying, "the final things."

Yes, God is merciful to those who call out to Him. He is gracious, forgiving evil and all kinds of foolishness. But... there will come a time when the hours of pardon will come to an end. There will be a day that is the final deadline, when the end comes and our window of opportunity will close. No appeals. No second chances. No "wait, wait, wait..." The end will come for you, and for me. Just because we don't know the particular when, be it by death or by the triumphant return of Christ, doesn't make it any less real.

Deadlines remind us that finality is real, but that opportunity remains. When we miss a deadline and we encounter that sinking feeling that something was missed, it might remind us that our time is precious, and that we should make the most of each fleeting breath. It might remind us on a small scale to repent from sin and trust Christ as Lord now, since either by hook or by crook, our own personal deadline is approaching.

Plus, isn't it just nice to know that you have things in order with time remaining on the clock?

Book Review: Tactics by Gregory Koukl

2011-05-17T13:25:00.000-07:00

Every now and again, a preacher will come along and remind me that a Christian's responsibility is to share Christ with those around him. And, I have to admit, there have been many times I have heard that admonition -- err, encouragement -- with a quick attempt to make eye contact with just about anything else: the floor, my open Bible, my watch, "oh, what do you know? My shoelace is untied. I could trip if I don't fix that right now." Sure, I know I'm supposed to be on the alert to "give a defense for the hope that is in me" (1 Peter 3:16), but I'll admit I'm not always so good at making the most of those opportunities. Often I'm a victim of my own perceived amabassadorial inadequacies.

Fortunately, I stumbled upon a remarkable little book by Gregory Koukl titled Tactics. It's a fairly quick read (just at 200 pages), but I have found that good things come in small packages. The cover advertises the text as "a game plan for discussing your Christian convictions", and Koukl delivers an exceptionally applicable approach for explicit evangelistic engagement.

At the heart of Koukl's work is the lost art of reasonable, winsome interrogation: asking meaningful questions, engaging conversation, and remembering that a personal witness of Christ's lordship doesn't require one to be a sage on the stage. "All I want to do is put a stone in someone's shoe" is the axiom for Koukl (p. 38).

And thus beginneth the course. Good questions, basic critical thinking, and a sense of the Gospel's inherent truth will provide every follower of Christ with the necessary tools to adequately and powerfully respond to inquiries and straight challenges. Can't stand to read academic textbooks that go over your head? Koukl's presentation is stimulating and written in a conversational manner that anyone can read and comprehend.

Get a copy of Tactics and get in the game!

Elevators and the Unwritten Rules

2011-04-21T08:27:00.000-07:00

Spent some quality time in an elevator yesterday. I got on at the first floor and had to go all the way up to the eighth, with periodic pauses on the in-between floors to let others on and off. It's a mundane thing, really, to ride on an elevator. We hardly pay any attention to the goings-on. But you know what?

Social conventions crack me up.

Those little unwritten rules about elevator etiquette are unique and kind of silly. Don't talk to anyone, unless the topic involves communicating the destination floor. Look only at the numbers, or your feet, or the door. Actually, just don't make eye-contact with anyone. Move to the back of the elevator when new people get on. Face toward the doors. Evenly space out as far as humanly possible to be equidistant from every other passenger. Making contact with the wall is OK. Don't slouch. Which is funny when you think about it, because I think people would have better posture if we rode elevators everywhere. When did I learn? Did Mom have to sit me down and enlighten me one day? Did we cover proper elevator behavior in Kindergarten?

Funny thing. I probably never had to be taught verbally how to behave in an elevator, but I learned by observation. It's probably as close as we ever get to the old "learning by osmosis" trick many of us have been trying since high school chemistry. And eventually, we all catch on.

Which makes me wonder... What are the unwritten expectations of faith and behavior at Lexington Baptist Church? What do we expect of growing believers in Christ? Do we expect discipleship? Do we expect Biblical literacy? Do we expect people to grow in grace, and love, and mercy? What do we expect post-baptism?

What social conventions (good or bad) exist at Lexington Baptist? And are they keepers or losers?

Amazing is Good

2011-04-04T13:29:00.000-07:00

A little over a month ago, Kiley brought home Starburst jelly beans after a trip out for groceries. You say, “That’s great. Jelly beans are jelly beans.” I respectfully disagree. You have not had jelly beans until you have had Starburst jelly beans. In a word, they are awesomeamazingsplendiforousheavenly. You say that’s not a word. It is now. I just coined it, because frankly, Starburst jelly beans defy definition by an existing word. Once you truly experience a Starburst jelly bean, you’ll agree with me. I am convinced that as we gather around the throne to worship the King once our earthly days end, angelic ushers will provide us with Starburst jelly beans. They are that good.

One problem, though. Like Mint M&M’s at Christmas, Starburst jelly beans are a seasonal item. (Or so Kiley tells me. I hope it’s not a ploy to control my sugar intake.) In a month’s time, Starburst jelly beans will disappear from the shelves and I will wish I had more. Sometime around October, I will think to myself, “I miss Starburst jelly beans.”

Easter is almost here! That day when we celebrate the resurrection, the day that makes every other day worth living! Jesus – the spotless Lamb, the second Adam, the Lord of the Universe – was killed, but He didn’t stay that way! He ate breakfast with the disciples; He met Peter on the beach; He walked on the road to Emmaus; He paid a visit to His brother James and 500 others. Lots of people think we only celebrate Easter once a year as a seasonal thing. But you know better!

We remember Easter each week because we worship on Sunday – the Lord’s Day, the day of resurrection. We remember Easter each day because Jesus has said, “Remember! I am with you always, even to the end of time” (Matt. 28:20, emphasis mine). And, because you have truly experienced that resurrection power by trusting the resurrected Jesus to be boss of your life, you agree with me. As we gather around the throne to worship the King once our earthly days end, we will be consumed with the majesty of Easter. It’s that good.

Don’t get caught thinking Easter is merely a seasonal item. Without the empty tomb, the manger is just a cute display piece.

Book Review: Change Your Church for Good by Brad Powell

2010-08-31T09:08:00.000-07:00

As the father of a toddler, I have a little experience with change. Change a diaper too often, you create more waste than you eliminate; change a diaper not often enough, and the buildup can be disastrous. Change can be difficult, but it’s necessary and healthy. The same principles apply for the local church, and in Change Your Church for Good, Brad Powell offers useful principles for navigating the waters of change in church life.

Powell directs his message to ministers and lay leaders who are in for the long haul; while emphasizing the need for change, he also reminds that there is a need for process – effective transition does not happen overnight.

Powell’s heart for the gospel shines through clearly as he outlines the rationale and role of change in the local church body. Great care is taken to emphasize the unchanging nature of the Christian message – available redemption from sin through repentance and faith in Christ. But the message must not be confused with the methodology, just as a gift cannot be confused with the wrapper, and Christians must be cautious not to make their fellowship a members-only club.

It would be easy for a work such as this to degenerate into a “what’s wrong with the church today?” tome, but Powell continuously maintains two optimistic perspectives that must be viewed in harmony: 1. the church is the light of Christ to those in darkness, and 2. Christians in any congregation want to see others embrace Christ as Lord in a meaningful way. That kind of optimism is refreshing and challenging!

If you are a pastor or lay leader, consider reading Change Your Church for Good!

Disclaimer: I was provided a copy of this book for free from Booksneeze.com, under no obligation to provide a positive review.

Where I'm Coming From...

2010-07-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

The title gives you an idea about this post. Not "where I'm coming from" in a philosophical sense, mind you. Well, not overtly, anyway, although I'm sure there's plenty about my current ministry setting that will inform the way I see and respond to things in Corpus.

What to say about Lampasas, TX? Small town, central Texas; about an hour north of Austin, about an hour and a half north of San Antonio. Two and a half hours south-ish from Fort Worth. Killeen is 40 minutes to the east, and we sit in the shadow of Fort Hood, so the US Army has a very significant fingerprint on the region's social and economic milieu.

The 2000 census has the Lampasas population at a little over 6,700; but as the county seat it serves more like 7,500 once you count all the outlying rural people. The Lampasas ISD has one high school, one middle school, and three elementary schools.

A local Lampasas church did a little survey a few years ago about church attendance; the results clocked in at a little under 2400 people who are active in local congregations. I don't have all the parameters on what consititutes "active", but on face value, that sounds pretty nice. That's about 1/3 of the population; it also means that Christians are in the minority among the rest of the populace.

During the school year, I made the local Middle School lunch a routine stop-in. It's a great way to make contact with kids who would never darken the door of a church. The school cafeteria is a "neutral" site - sort of. Students talk when they are in packs -- and it's funny what they will say when they think numbers give them leverage. Sometimes what they say shocks you; sometimes what comes out is profane, but more often than not it's profound. I never (more like rarely on second blush) broadcast that I'm the youth minister at First Baptist Church, but it usually gets around.

You build a pretty regular set of contacts after a couple of months. I don't sit unless invited, and I end up sitting quite a bit. We laugh about inane things, we chat about dorky homework and maddening teachers. Sometimes dark secrets from weekends pop up, then the students remind themselves that an "adult" in the conversation, and it dribbles away. Sometimes, they don't care.

I stay through both 7th and 8th grade lunches and usually end up "playing soccer" during the break before the 7th graders head back to class; I put playing in quotes because I usually stand in front of the goal, chat with the goalie, and "forget" that I have to use my feet to touch the ball. We laugh, they get sweaty, we trudge back to the pleasure of A/C in the spring, they to the slavery of the next class period and me to the cafeteria for the next lunch. 8th graders tend to be more content just dragging out lunchtable time before going in to class.

The best part about Middle School lunch? You learn to listen in a crowd. You learn to hear what people say, and what they don't. They learn church might not be a threatening place. You make witty banter with the school clerical staff when you sign in and the teachers start to trust you. Next thing you know, that kid (the jock, the all-dressed-in-black girl, the cheerleader, the know-it-all, the new kid from Canada) says "I didn't know you knew my name."

Sure didn't, six months ago.

Howdy!

2010-07-20T14:22:00.000-07:00

My name is Scott, and I will be officially starting as pastor of Lexington Baptist Church in Corpus Christi in a few short weeks.

*Whew* That's better.

They say the hardest things to write in any composition are the introduction and the conclusion. Clearly, the introduction is out of the way, so the rest of this should be a breeze!

In the coming days, I'll be stopping by this blog to post some thoughts on my transition from Lampasas to Corpus Christi. Feel free to stop by! I hope I can give you a window into my perspective as August 9 gets closer. I very much have the church family at Lexington on my mind these days, and I hope to begin giving you an idea for what I can see the Lord leading us to do.

In the meantime, won't you pray for Kiley, Chloe, and me? We enjoy the adventure of a new place to serve... but this moving thing is really for the birds!