Navigating a Church Split

     I am a United Methodist Pastor, and the season in which we live is not easy. So it is with great sadness that I see and hear churches in my annual conference choose to disaffiliate with the United Methodist Church to join other denominations. I know we are not a perfect body of believers, but we live in the promise of grace through Jesus the Christ, our Lord. The assuredness of God’s faithfulness compels me to celebrate my faith in my blessed denomination. Okay, that is about as political as I am going to get.

     The times we live reflect moments of sadness as I put names and faces on those who choose to leave. I think of my friendships with my clergy brothers and sisters and realize that we will not share special moments at retreats or around a table after a brutal Annual Conference. We may remain friends, but our relationships will change. I mourn for the possibility of loss as my denomination seeks to redefine itself as we let our loved ones explore new ways to celebrate Christ in the world.

     I also feel anger as the era of misinformation attempts to cast opposing sides as enemies. I constantly ask myself, “How in the name of the Almighty can people demonize their fellow clergy members with statements based on untruth?” I refuse to accept such mean-spirited attacks on my colleagues. It is wrong and should stop. We must separate because, at the heart of the matter, our disagreements prove so severe that we can no longer find common ground and must search out a new path.

     With a heavy heart, I must say goodbye to pastors and churches as they seek to further their understanding of the mission of God. I pray that the truth continues to make its presence known and that those who continue to spread misinformation stop and allow churches considering disaffiliation to find the answers to their questions. Through this experience, I hope we continue to pray for one another, wishing God’s best to everyone. Let grace prevail, and the truth of Christ remains our guiding principle.

Gratitude for a Visit with My Sister

     This week my sister came to visit us in New Mexico. So far, we have enjoyed catching up and planning trips in the “Land of Enchantment.” I appreciate her company and look forward to many mad-capped adventures. It is comforting to know that although she knows the burial sites of all my skeletons, yet still wants to spend time with me.

    I marvel at how much our relationship continues to evolve. I think of the times when I let frustration and a lack of understanding prevent me from enjoying a relationship with her. Through my years, I learned how to sit back and listen to the hearts of those I love. Psalmist wrote, “Be still and know that I am God” (Ps. 46:10 NIV). The implication from this very brief verse reminds me that to fully understand God or a person, and I must stop my mind from forming opinions before taking a moment to stop and allow the Divine presence to speak into my soul.

     I take the words of the Psalmist to heart in all my relationships. I stop and listen to the hearts and souls of others who see me. Holy listening allows me to share and discover fullness with information that helps me share the truth. Even in our brokenness, the Holy One can restore us, but it takes time, patience, and stillness. Healing beyond our imagination can find its way into the recesses of our hearts if we only allow it.

     As I journey from this moment, I hope to maintain the spiritual discipline of stillness and let it foster growth in my life. I aim to discover the sacredness of each connection I have in my life and be an encourager to everyone I know. In stillness, I encounter integrity, which leads to wholeness. May we continue our journey in our love for one another, always discovering ways to express heartfelt truth.

Not Enough Paper to Go Around

“But there are also many other things Jesus did; and if they were all to be recorded, I don’t think the whole world could contain the books that would have to be written!” (John 21:25 CJSB).

As the Gospel of John comes to a close, the above verse is the last one. To sum up the phrase, Jesus completes so many miracles, that there were not enough writing utensils to record everything. We only have highlights (which is more than enough to feed us), while Jesus continued to love the people around Him. Our road map, the Gospels, gives us all that we need to know to follow the Messiah. Love God with everything you are (warts and all) and love your neighbor as yourself. To complete the two commandments requires a change of heart, which leads to redemption and hope.

I believe that Jesus continues to work miracles all around us. We simply must stop and look to find the Holy Spirit alive and well in our day-to-day living. Think of the many ways that God guides you on your path, and recall the healing processes in which the hope of Jesus restored you to wholeness. There are enough miracles we continue to witness that could not fit in a book. The Holy One is deeply connected to us and restores our souls.

My hope for us, as we leave the Gospels and begin reading the Book of Acts, is that we take a few moments to look around and remember, Jesus, is still in the business of healing hearts and restoring minds. Praise be to God that we may stop and give thanks for all that we receive from the Father. Let us stop, observe that beauty of faith, and then go out into the world to make a difference. In so doing, the last verse of Luke is not an ending of the story, but a continuation.

Living Our Faith

Last Sunday I asked the congregation, “You are a new creature in Christ, so what are you going to do about it?”  In asking the question, I hoped to spark an awareness that our faith requires us to not only have as Paul said, “A circumcision of the heart,” but to respond to this new way of being with our actions.  What we do, along with what we say determines our commitment to God.  In other words, we simply can’t say we are Christians and then act like we are anything but children of God.  We must prove it with how we treat others.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, spoke very candidly about the importance of our actions.  While he acknowledged that we can do nothing to earn our salvation, Wesley also stressed the need to mirror the change within by sharing our faith from the inside out.  How we live matters.  The way that we exist in the world proves that we have indeed had a “circumcision of the heart.”  To live any other way would indicate that our transformation lacked authenticity.

As we begin 2017, I pray that people see my change of heart by the way that I treat others.  This is a tough task and should not be taken lightly.  Careful attention towards a change in action requires a commitment to living the life to which God has called me.  I will admit that there are a few relationships with which I struggle.  Yes, I am called to reveal a new heart even in these very tense and complicated situations.

You indeed are a beautiful creation in Christ.  Now take up this claim and show those around you that a new path is being made in the desert.  It is your answer to the calling that God placed on your life.  Pick this task up and carry it forward.  How else will they know that we are Christians than by our love?

The Best Necklace in the Whole World

I was eleven years old, and my mission in life was to by my mother the best birthday gift possible.  Her birthday was coming up, and I was desperate.  My grandparents took me to a shopping mall in Houston, and I was determined that I would not leave empty handed.  There had to be something in one of the many stores.  I had a whopping $15 in my pocket, and I was ready to do a little retail damage.

As we went into one of the many stores that night, there was something that caught my eye.  I saw a bracelet that shined like I had never seen anything shine in my life.  I walked over to look at this incredible work of art.  Surely it was way too far out of my league.  I was shocked to learn that it only cost $12.  At eleven years old, I wasn’t aware that rhinestones were not the same as diamonds.  The necklace was simply a beautiful piece of jewelry and that it was just what I wanted to give to my mother.

I eagerly asked the salesman to wrap up my trinket and was excited that my mom would wear it soon.  A feeling of pride swept over me as I paid for the rhinestone necklace.  This gift was my idea.  My mom would wear the best jewelry that the store had to offer (or so I thought).

When it came time to open the box, my mother immediately placed the jewelry around her neck and proclaimed it to be the most beautiful gift that she had ever received.  I thought she looked like a queen.  It was even better than I expected.  I was very happy with myself, for I gave my mother the best necklace in the whole world!

As the years went by my mom would talk about her special present and smile.  I was a little embarrassed as I reflected on my younger self. I know that as an adult, my childhood self did not know the difference between fake jewelry and the real thing.  All I knew is that my mom deserved the best that I could give.

Five years ago, almost to the day, my mother died.  I still think of her and miss her.  I am thankful for the friendship that we forged in my adult years.  Not long after she died my sister and I began the arduous task of sorting through her things.  I stumbled upon a jewelry box and opened the top.  In the box was a beautiful diamond and right next to the amazing stone was a little bag.  I unfastened the top of the bag and to my amazement, the little rhinestone necklace that I bought so many years ago fell onto the table.

I immediately teared up as I remembered that brave little boy, eager to give the best that he had so that his mother would smile.  All of the sudden the costume jewelry increased in value and surpassed that big old diamond.  My necklace contained all of the love that an eleven-year-old heart could muster.  Nothing is more priceless than the intention of the heart.

Today I am grateful as I remember my mother this week, and the legacy that she gave to me.  I honor her memory every day of my life, as I hope to be the best husband, father, brother, friend, pastor, and the person that I can be.  I believe that she is with me each and every day and that her memory continues in love shared with those in need of hope and renewal.  Praise God for Ruby Jensen, and her spirit of compassion and joy.

 

A Moment of Truth

When I stand at the altar to prepare for Communion, there is an innate sense of responsibility that flows through me. I think long and hard about every word that comes out my mouth, as I consecrate the elements, inviting the Holy Spirit to speak into the lives of the congregation.  Each member is asking, pleading, requesting God to speak into their lives.

Everyone in the room comes seeking to be made whole, to take a break from a life filled with chaos.  And so, with all of these things in mind, they come to the table.  And there standing beside the table is me; waiting, hoping, praying for everyone that I see. Each person coming with their language, their way of expressing the deep needs of hearts yearning for wholeness.

As I watch the feast at the banquet, I hope everyone stops long enough to realize the moment of truth that Christ Himself calls to each of them to find that for which they are looking.  May the music of redemption fill their ears as heavenly bells ring out that everyone is loved and desired by our amazing God.  The reality of Holy love is the hope of our faith; it is the headwaters of that which we believe.

Heavenly truth reveals to us that we are never alone, that God’s presence is with us always.  We continue to struggle in a world that challenge us with each new day, the foundation of hope is always the underlying part of the victory that we share in Christ.  Love never leaves us.  Love never shames us.  Love is simply and continuously present.  We only turn and embrace the amazing gift of grace.

Today, I am grateful for the gift of God’s grace as revealed in the invitation to a banquet like none other.  I stand there and participate in the meal, confronting the truth that I am a beloved child of the Most-High God.  This reality is at times incomprehensible and overwhelming.  Such grace is offered to someone like me.  How amazing!

A Time to Remember

As I prepare for All Soul’s Sunday, I remember the incredible men and women that left a lasting legacy on my heart.  I must admit that the Service of Remembrance is one of the most sacred of the church year.  There is a feeling of comfort and holiness as we invite our brothers and sisters in the faith to join voices in giving thanks for the many saints that went before us.  We thank them for their teachings, for their presence in our lives.  We are better because they lived.

One of the many men who had a profound impact on my life was my grandfather.  Edwin Lance Jensen lived a life that many would consider remarkable.  He survived the Great Depression, the early loss of his mother, homelessness, a world war, and the loss of a child.  I knew him for 18 years.  Unfortunately, he died at the young age of 60.

My grandfather was the most significant male role model that I had growing up.  I learned patience, perseverance, and endurance.  This tough talking, rough around the edges kind of man took the time to teach me the many life lessons that I needed to know.  I look back and still consider him one, if not the most intelligent man that I ever met.

One of my fondest memories of him was an event that happened during my senior year of high school.  I prepared to leave for school when all of the sudden I heard a thunderous crash right outside my house.  A lady hit my parked car.  My grandfather ran outside, all 6’4″ and 300 pounds of him to check on the person who was involved in the wreck. Making sure she was safe, he invited her in to have some coffee while we handled the day to day stuff involving my car.  I like to think that a mechanic fixed the car, and the lady found peace, all because of my grandfather’s kindness.

Many years after Edwin’s death, I was in an old bookstore sorting through different titles that caught my eye.  One of them was about the presence of angels.  I looked inside of the book and the question, “How do we know that we are in the company of angels?” peeked my curiosity.  I had to continue, the words called to me.

As I read the answer to the question, I found myself weeping, giving thanks for this saucy dirty old man that encouraged me to be the person that I am today.  It said, “An angel is a person who leaves our world better because they were in it.”  Through my tears, I started to laugh thinking about this broken not too old of a man, appearing as one of the many angels who journey through my life.

Through this week, let us stop and give thanks for our angels (sometimes disguised in the strangest packages that we could ever know).  We are bolder and better because of their legacy.  When you think of the special people in your life, remember to stop and give thanks and praise for the people that speak the words that you need to hear at the moment that you need to hear them.  Today we say, “Praise be to God for our angels.”

 

What We Learn on the Journey

Today I am reminded that January will bring about my final semester regarding classwork in the Doctorate of Ministry.  My next step will be implementing and reporting on my final project. My first assignment will be an analysis of several books, with some course work due before the first day of the semester.  While I always feel overwhelmed, I am giving thanks for the program offered at Austin Seminary.  The academic expectations are very high, and for that, I am truly grateful.

With the acknowledgment of the end in sight, I can’t help but recall the years of struggle that I had making it through my undergraduate program.  My head and heart were not in school.  All I knew is that I wanted to sing.  Nothing else mattered.  Making good grades was not a part of my interest in my early twenties.  It would take many years before I appreciated the discipline of academic achievement.

Seminary gave me a perspective that changed my complete outlook on life.  At Iliff, I recaptured my love of history and writing.  I discovered the depth of my appreciation for theological studies, particularly concerning how others expressed their understanding of God and our place in the universe.  I also reclaimed my joy for academic research.  School to me became a blessing, a way of reaching beyond myself and not being afraid to live within a world of unknowables.  One of the most important lessons that I learned was that God, and how humanity expresses the divine presence, is larger than anything I can ever fathom.  The Holy Mystery is vast and amazing.

Our journey takes us to many places that we would never expect to go.  If someone had told me at twenty-five that I would be pastoring a church before I finished my forties, I would have told them they were insane.  Those that knew me back then probably are still questioning the discernment of a congregation to have me as their pastor now.  What no one on either side of the spectrum realizes is that I have walked a road that is distinct to me.  God illumined my path and blessed me for ministry.  For that, I am truly grateful.

It has been a very long journey.  One that is filled with disappointments as well as blessings.  I would never have enjoyed my experiences if I had never chosen to go down the path, one step at a time and one lesson at a time.  Praise be to God for His holy patience and understanding.  This is my story, and I am sticking to it!

 

Freeing Yourself from Shame

Shame is more than a five-letter word.  It can hold you hostage and keep you wholly locked within a prison of your making.  For me, I carry shame for things that were not even my fault.  The wounds pierce my soul with pinpoint accuracy, creating systems of thought that leave a long-lasting effect in my life.  Shame is the most destabilizing of any ammunition utilized.

To the naked eye, shame is invisible, secretly doing its best work in secret.  I didn’t choose one path in life because I was too frightened about what may or may not happen.  I keep hearing the nagging words, “If only I would have….”  The underlying decision at every turn is the shame that continues to carry on in my life.

Please don’t get me wrong.  I love my life.  I am blessed beyond all measure and have excellent resources at my disposal to reclaim parts of my heart that were damaged.  My story is not one of victimization, but of light, healing, and forgiveness.  I continue to look for those places that are still entrapped and rob me of the joy in which I am meant to live.

Surrendering to God means giving up the shame as well.  We cannot hold on to the secret things that hold us back from experiencing the plans that are laid out before us.  Giving up all of our stuff is not easy because it forces us to be vulnerable.  Suddenly, we no longer have control.  God is the one who guides us.

Today I am thankful for my journey.  I am grateful that I have amazing people who walk beside me on my journey, always reflecting the love of Christ, which flows through me, around me, and over me.  I pray that I may be the one who helps others come out of the shadows of shame and into the light of God.  Praise be to our Amazing Creator.

He Remembers!

LasIMG_0245t week was a little too crazy in my life, and so I did not post.  My oldest son moved into his dorm last Tuesday.  I am excited for him and look forward to all that he will accomplish while being a student at the Santa Fe School of Art and Design.  His first week has been filled with anxiety and then joy, as he discovers his capacity to make it on his own.

As my wife and I were helping him unpack, Julian shook a box full of coins in my face.  I asked, “What is that?”  He responded, “Dad, it is the box that Granny gave me.”  That was all that I needed to hear, as I kept my composure long enough to get out of the room.  My son kept a beat up old dilapidated box that my mom gave to him for no reason, filled with pennies.  On the inside of the box was my mother’s handwriting with these words, “Julian, every time I thought of you today, I put a penny in the box.”

Of all of the things that he took with him to his dorm, one of them had to be this box.  It serves as a reminder to him that he was loved before he ever knew his name.  People, angels, and other heavenly beings encircle him to remind of this truth, that he is a child of the Most-High God.  Loved beyond anything he can ever imagine.  All of these important reminders found in a cardboard box.

Julian’s gift reminds me to find an answer to the question, “What am I leaving so that the world may know the incredible love that the Father has for us?”  The answers are not taken lightly.  They build others up, giving purpose to those who need to hear words of comfort and hope.  Store your pennies well!

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