Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
I Need to Apologize to a Few People
My last trip on a Beach Reach van this week was by far the worst one. We had a packed van--there must have been 14 or 15 people packed into a 12 passenger van--and it was no secret that no one was really comfortable.
Add on top of that the fact that all but 5 of us had been drinking and partying all night, and it makes for an interesting experience.
So here are the apologies I have to make:
To Jacob, the guy driving the van--I'm sorry that I jumped on your van to get a ride back to the hotel. I had been excited about actually having conversations instead of just driving, but it was obviously not the right time to do so.
To Conner, the Beach Reach guy in my row--I'm sorry that I separated you from the people you were supposed to be ministering to. That was not cool, and I apologize for effectively cutting off your chances at conversation.
To Mary, the Beach Reach girl in the row ahead of me--I'm sorry that I left you stranded when those two not-so-drunk but absolutely-so-belligerent guys decided to turn their crass conversations on you, backing you into a verbal corner and making you feel so uncomfortable.
To all of the Beach Reachers in the van--I'm sorry that I, as an adult sponsor and pastor, did not step up to deal with the problem before it got so out of hand. From the first few comments out of these gentlemen's mouths, it was obvious that they were trying to incite reactions from us and trying to bring us to their level. It should have been nipped in the bud, and because it wasn't, you did not have a chance to share the gospel like I know you wanted to.
To the other Spring Breakers in the van--I'm sorry that because of my inaction, you had to deal with that at the end of your night. These rides are about showing you a little taste of Christ's love, from the free trips home to the laid back conversations to the lack of condemnation no matter what your story is, and you didn't get to experience that--at least not in the way we intended.
To the two Spring Breakers who were causing the scene--I'm sorry that I was not up front with you. I'm sorry that my inaction led to your continued hurtful words and to others' growing scorn for you. Part of being a leader in the church is to stand up for what is wrong, not only for the sake of those being afflicted, but also for the sake of those doing the afflicting. I had a chance to show you what justice in love looks like, and I was too scared to do so. I was so worried about confrontation, so worried about saying the wrong thing, that I said nothing at all. And that absolutely was the wrong thing to say.
To Jesus--You gave your very life for me, and you set the example for me in how to interact with the world. You called me into leadership in your church, and gave me a voice to speak out against sin and brokenness. I failed to do this during the van ride, and for that I owe you, my Savior, an apology. Next time, I will try my hardest to muster up the courage it takes to confront in love, that even in correcting behavior, I might shine your light into the world.
Add on top of that the fact that all but 5 of us had been drinking and partying all night, and it makes for an interesting experience.
So here are the apologies I have to make:
To Jacob, the guy driving the van--I'm sorry that I jumped on your van to get a ride back to the hotel. I had been excited about actually having conversations instead of just driving, but it was obviously not the right time to do so.
To Conner, the Beach Reach guy in my row--I'm sorry that I separated you from the people you were supposed to be ministering to. That was not cool, and I apologize for effectively cutting off your chances at conversation.
To Mary, the Beach Reach girl in the row ahead of me--I'm sorry that I left you stranded when those two not-so-drunk but absolutely-so-belligerent guys decided to turn their crass conversations on you, backing you into a verbal corner and making you feel so uncomfortable.
To all of the Beach Reachers in the van--I'm sorry that I, as an adult sponsor and pastor, did not step up to deal with the problem before it got so out of hand. From the first few comments out of these gentlemen's mouths, it was obvious that they were trying to incite reactions from us and trying to bring us to their level. It should have been nipped in the bud, and because it wasn't, you did not have a chance to share the gospel like I know you wanted to.
To the other Spring Breakers in the van--I'm sorry that because of my inaction, you had to deal with that at the end of your night. These rides are about showing you a little taste of Christ's love, from the free trips home to the laid back conversations to the lack of condemnation no matter what your story is, and you didn't get to experience that--at least not in the way we intended.
To the two Spring Breakers who were causing the scene--I'm sorry that I was not up front with you. I'm sorry that my inaction led to your continued hurtful words and to others' growing scorn for you. Part of being a leader in the church is to stand up for what is wrong, not only for the sake of those being afflicted, but also for the sake of those doing the afflicting. I had a chance to show you what justice in love looks like, and I was too scared to do so. I was so worried about confrontation, so worried about saying the wrong thing, that I said nothing at all. And that absolutely was the wrong thing to say.
To Jesus--You gave your very life for me, and you set the example for me in how to interact with the world. You called me into leadership in your church, and gave me a voice to speak out against sin and brokenness. I failed to do this during the van ride, and for that I owe you, my Savior, an apology. Next time, I will try my hardest to muster up the courage it takes to confront in love, that even in correcting behavior, I might shine your light into the world.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
My Sign Would Say Something Like: "Jesus loves these Christians, but he's damn sure disappointed in them."
Updated: I've been thinking about what I wrote below, and I want to say a few things about it. I realized that it is extremely sarcastic and back-handed, and I am not okay with that. This post was written in anger, an anger that didn't go away even 12 hours after the incident. That is inexcusable. I'm leaving it below, though, in hopes that maybe it--along with this confession--might in some way spark a conversation that could lead to healing. I do not at all agree with their tactics, and I honestly think that they are doing much more harm than good for the Kingdom, but that doesn't excuse my off-handed comments meant to belittle and demean them. So please, hear my reactions, but hear as well my tempered and (hopefully) love-infused reaction to said reaction. And maybe together, we the church can be better than we are now.
Last night, I had the immense blessing to drive around a van of beach reachers, working tirelessly in the late late evening--Jimmy Fallon was already asleep--to minister to buzzed, drunk, and sloshed spring breakers.
It was a blast.
But there's one part of last night I can't stop thinking about: the protesters.
Outside of Louie's, one of the two big party clubs, there was a small group of Christian men standing with signs and bullhorns, condemning everyone there to hell. "Repent or burn!" I heard one guy yell. They even protested against us, as we were aiding them in their sin.
It probably didn't cross their minds at all that by taxiing them around, we were cutting down on drunk driving around this small island.
I sincerely hope that they are not the only Jesus that these people see.
Last night, I had the immense blessing to drive around a van of beach reachers, working tirelessly in the late late evening--Jimmy Fallon was already asleep--to minister to buzzed, drunk, and sloshed spring breakers.
It was a blast.
But there's one part of last night I can't stop thinking about: the protesters.
Outside of Louie's, one of the two big party clubs, there was a small group of Christian men standing with signs and bullhorns, condemning everyone there to hell. "Repent or burn!" I heard one guy yell. They even protested against us, as we were aiding them in their sin.
It probably didn't cross their minds at all that by taxiing them around, we were cutting down on drunk driving around this small island.
I sincerely hope that they are not the only Jesus that these people see.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Beach Reach Part One
Today I woke up in Kyle, flew from Austin North to Dallas, flew from Dallas South to Harlingen (which I didn't even know had an airport), and then drove from Harlingen's said (surprise) airport to South Padre.
I would choose to spend Spring Break in South Padre--not as a single college kid, but as a married pastor. Weird, right? But I'm excited, because I'm not here to party or drink or any of the normal Padre-during-Spring-Break stuff. I'm here because of all of that, but not to partake in it.
I'm here for Beach Reach.
Beach Reach is a ministry that was started decades ago by the Baptist Student Ministries (BSM) organization. They have been coming to Padre and other Spring Break locations every year to minister to the people who are coming for... anything but Jesus. They do a free taxi service to cut down on drunk driving. They walk the roads and beaches praying for people. They even do free pancake breakfasts for anyone who is hungry. It's pretty cool, and I'm excited to spend this week with the Texas Wesley Foundation as they join their fellow UT students from the BSM in reaching out to their peers. There are some 90 people here from UT engaging in this ministry, and we're not the only ones. We're joining a group that this week totals over 800 college students and sponsors, doing a very special form of God's work.
It's exciting!
My prayer is that in the midst of the partying, drinking, cavorting, etc..., Jesus would be present. Either through us or in spite of us, I hope that God does some amazing things this week.
And don't worry--I'll keep y'all informed as to how it's going.
I would choose to spend Spring Break in South Padre--not as a single college kid, but as a married pastor. Weird, right? But I'm excited, because I'm not here to party or drink or any of the normal Padre-during-Spring-Break stuff. I'm here because of all of that, but not to partake in it.
I'm here for Beach Reach.
Beach Reach is a ministry that was started decades ago by the Baptist Student Ministries (BSM) organization. They have been coming to Padre and other Spring Break locations every year to minister to the people who are coming for... anything but Jesus. They do a free taxi service to cut down on drunk driving. They walk the roads and beaches praying for people. They even do free pancake breakfasts for anyone who is hungry. It's pretty cool, and I'm excited to spend this week with the Texas Wesley Foundation as they join their fellow UT students from the BSM in reaching out to their peers. There are some 90 people here from UT engaging in this ministry, and we're not the only ones. We're joining a group that this week totals over 800 college students and sponsors, doing a very special form of God's work.
It's exciting!
My prayer is that in the midst of the partying, drinking, cavorting, etc..., Jesus would be present. Either through us or in spite of us, I hope that God does some amazing things this week.
And don't worry--I'll keep y'all informed as to how it's going.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Sunday Mornings
I hate mornings.
Most Sundays start around 6:45 for me. I don't think it should be legal for anyone to wake up before 9 a.m. But I have a church service at 8:45, so that's not an option. Also having a son who thinks mornings are great. Not what I was most looking forward to about being a dad.
But I get up. I shower and get dressed. I make my morning smoothie--today is was frozen mixed berries, a banana, Greek yogurt, and 3 oz of orange juice. I drink said smoothie while reading a book that has nothing to do with theology or the church--at least not directly.
I am up at church unlocking doors, turning on heaters or A/C's, turning on lights, etc... by 7:45. Then begins the half-hour-long frantic run around to take care of everything that I can never remember to do during the week.
Is there a call to worship? Did I triple-check the bulletin for mistakes that I made? Did I bring a tie?
Then I get to greet people as they come in and run around helping everyone else get a handle on their morning. It can be stressful, but I love to help people, so it's worth it.
Service starts at 8:45. Usually at about 8:43 1/2, I go into my office to change from suit jacket into tie and robe. Then I run into the sanctuary (hopefully) right before my liturgist starts the welcome and announcements. After a morning that always seems a little more stressful than it needs to be, it's finally time for worship.
And that's when everything is right in the world.
I don't care if I have twenty people or a hundred people in worship. I don't care if the choir has prepared an anthem or if Danton is just going to play something instrumental on the piano. It doesn't matter who my liturgist is or what songs we sing. Everything that has been swimming around in my head disappears. My to-do list vanishes. My worries and cares take a back seat. I don't even think about my sermon or Scripture telling at that point. It's all in the background. It all fades away.
Because it's time for worship.
Most Sundays start around 6:45 for me. I don't think it should be legal for anyone to wake up before 9 a.m. But I have a church service at 8:45, so that's not an option. Also having a son who thinks mornings are great. Not what I was most looking forward to about being a dad.
But I get up. I shower and get dressed. I make my morning smoothie--today is was frozen mixed berries, a banana, Greek yogurt, and 3 oz of orange juice. I drink said smoothie while reading a book that has nothing to do with theology or the church--at least not directly.
I am up at church unlocking doors, turning on heaters or A/C's, turning on lights, etc... by 7:45. Then begins the half-hour-long frantic run around to take care of everything that I can never remember to do during the week.
Is there a call to worship? Did I triple-check the bulletin for mistakes that I made? Did I bring a tie?
Then I get to greet people as they come in and run around helping everyone else get a handle on their morning. It can be stressful, but I love to help people, so it's worth it.
Service starts at 8:45. Usually at about 8:43 1/2, I go into my office to change from suit jacket into tie and robe. Then I run into the sanctuary (hopefully) right before my liturgist starts the welcome and announcements. After a morning that always seems a little more stressful than it needs to be, it's finally time for worship.
And that's when everything is right in the world.
I don't care if I have twenty people or a hundred people in worship. I don't care if the choir has prepared an anthem or if Danton is just going to play something instrumental on the piano. It doesn't matter who my liturgist is or what songs we sing. Everything that has been swimming around in my head disappears. My to-do list vanishes. My worries and cares take a back seat. I don't even think about my sermon or Scripture telling at that point. It's all in the background. It all fades away.
Because it's time for worship.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Rocking My World is Too Easy
Today I found out that a good friend of mine from college decided a few months ago that we were no longer going to be friends. Apparently, he felt that I had taken advantage of him as a friend and didn't value our relationship like I valued others.
Needless to say, I've been basically useless all day, because this is all I've been able to think about. I've been pouring over the last few years in my mind again and again, trying to see if he's right, if I was a jerk, and if I need to come repentant before my God and before one I've called a brother. I don't know how my sermon is going to be on Sunday--I was having hard problems focusing on a message on the Eucharist when I haven't figured out how to reconcile with my brother before coming to the altar myself. Hopefully God will take the lump of clay and make it into an amazing sculpture.
What is bothering me almost as much as losing a friend is how easily it was for my world to be completely rocked. It's taking me almost all day to figure out how to articulate this, and I'm still struggling with it. I can let almost anything just brush off my back, but when a friend... Doesn't want... To be a friend anymore... I pretty much grind to a halt. I need to learn how to deal with this better, because what I'm doing now will simply not work.
God, give me strength and clarity in this situation. May Your light and love shine through.
Amen.
Needless to say, I've been basically useless all day, because this is all I've been able to think about. I've been pouring over the last few years in my mind again and again, trying to see if he's right, if I was a jerk, and if I need to come repentant before my God and before one I've called a brother. I don't know how my sermon is going to be on Sunday--I was having hard problems focusing on a message on the Eucharist when I haven't figured out how to reconcile with my brother before coming to the altar myself. Hopefully God will take the lump of clay and make it into an amazing sculpture.
What is bothering me almost as much as losing a friend is how easily it was for my world to be completely rocked. It's taking me almost all day to figure out how to articulate this, and I'm still struggling with it. I can let almost anything just brush off my back, but when a friend... Doesn't want... To be a friend anymore... I pretty much grind to a halt. I need to learn how to deal with this better, because what I'm doing now will simply not work.
God, give me strength and clarity in this situation. May Your light and love shine through.
Amen.
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