Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

Billy Graham died today. Lots of people have a “Billy Graham story”. Here’s mine.

Thanksgiving of 1971 I was dating a young woman who attended Montreat-Anderson College, in Montreat, NC. She had a job caring for a couple of horses at Billy Graham’s home near there. She was invited to Thanksgiving supper with the Grahams, and she invited me to go along. Which I did. Nervously. After all, this was Billy Graham I would be sitting with at the table.

We stood at the front door, waiting for someone to answer. I tried to make jokes to ease my nervousness. “Do I need to take off my shoes, this being holy ground?” “Is that a burning bush I see over at the edge of the yard?” Not very funny, but I was trying.

The door opened and there he was. He welcomed us into his home, stuck out his hand, and said, “Hello. I’m Billy Graham.” I took his hand and told him my name. We went into the dining room, had supper, and good conversation. Every time the conversation would turn towards him, Billy would direct it in another way. He wasn’t being overly private or hiding anything; he just didn’t think he was that interesting.

Late in the conversation, I ventured these thoughts to him. “Mr. Graham, you may be the best-known person on the planet right now. Your voice is known all over the world. Even if people did not know what you looked like, they would recognize your voice because it is heard on radio stations everywhere. You are probably the only person who would not need to introduce himself. Yet, you told me your name at the door. You didn’t need to. Why?” (I thought that he probably thought I was too stupid to remember where I was having supper.) He said, “I have always thought it was presumptuous to think that anyone would know who I was.”

That has stuck with me for the last 47 years.

Thanks, Dr. Graham, for your life and witness. I will wager everything that this morning when you woke up in heaven, someone called you by name.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

We have a large whiteboard in one of the hallways at church. We put it up several years ago and asked people to write on it things they were thankful for. For a long time, people did that. You would walk by and see where folks had written things like God’s grace, my family, trees, food, and laughter. You would often see the name of someone that a person was thankful for.

Lately, that’s been dying down. Not many people are writing things on the board. The newness has worn off.

Except for our children.

And they write on it every day. They draw pictures, scribble lines, and just mark it all to bits. And they write whatever is on their hearts and minds.

Like today’s photo. They have been learning about the death and resurrection of Jesus. They have learned songs and made crafts that express it. One of them wrote what he or she was thankful for- “Jesuses Resurrection.”

They have learned how to spell resurrection correctly, but haven’t learned about the singular possessive of a noun that end with ‘s’.

But I’ve been thinking about this.

If Christ is in us (1 Corinthians 1:27), if we are the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12), if because Christ lives, we too shall live (John 14), then maybe that little child had it right. We are “little Jesuses” and we too will live! I am thankful for Jesuses resurrection, too!

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

I’ve been thinking about how to live in these contentious days. It does not seem to be getting easier to be a civilized person. And to be a follower of Jesus during all the hatred that is coming from the highest of offices is quite a challenge.

As I was praying this morning, I remembered a drawing that I have yet to hang up in my new home. (We’ve not hung any pictures yet.) Thirty years ago I met an artist in Hendersonville who did wonderful works with crayon and ink. She made a drawing for me of my favorite quote from Camelot (based on the book The Once and Future King, by T.H White). Here’s the quote:

“By God, Excalibur, I shall be a King! This is the time of King Arthur, and we reach for the stars! This is the time of King Arthur, and violence is not strength and compassion is not weakness. We are civilized! Resolved: We shall live through this together, Excalibur: They, you and I! And God have mercy on us all.”

Violence is not strength and compassion is not weakness! I love it!

Excalibur was the mighty sword Arthur drew from the stone. What if we decided that our Excalibur would be the “Word of God” (see Ephesians 6:7), and that Word is Jesus (John 1)? Could we live empowered by the Spirit, so that we face this world with compassion? Could we actually be different from the prevailing crowd?

To quote Arthur from another movie, “It is a dream I have….”

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

Note 2: The next eclipse in the eastern US is coming up April 8. I plan to go to Dayton, Ohio to watch it with Cathy and my niece Megan. Can’t wait!

Some thoughts on today’s eclipse-

I decided I wanted to see it in totality, and since Florence had only around 99%, I had to go somewhere else. Cathy and I scoped out the Santee Indian Mound a couple of weeks ago, and went at the same time as today’s event. Found it to be perfect. Traffic down I-95 was crowded, but never bad. Can’t say the same thing for coming back. Cathy and I decided to take the back country roads home. It gave us time to talk about the eclipse and other things.

If you haven’t been to the Santee Wildlife Reserve and Indian Mound (and Fort Watson), and you live in the area, it’s worth the time. Maybe not in the heat of the summer, but it is a great place. We figured it would not be crowded, and honestly, it wasn’t. There were several hundred people spread throughout the reserve, but no place was really crowded. Before the eclipse started, it was fairly quiet and peaceful. People were talking, children playing, a few dogs running around. There was no loud music, no drinking, just folks getting to know each other. We were from all over the East Coast- Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Delaware, New Jersey, and New York. People were sharing stories of how they got there, about other things to see and do in the area, and sharing glasses, solar binoculars, and solar telescopes. We were all different ethnicities, and probably a wide variety of political persuasions, but none of that mattered. We were there to see something magnificent up in the sky. What united us was greater than what divided us.

The sky started out cloudy, but by 1:30 it was clear blue! We watched as the moon made its way across the sun. Right before totality, maybe 3 seconds before, when we could see the first diamond ring- which we had been talking about- the crowd moaned with delight. Then when totality came, everyone cheered. You could see three streams of gasses coming out from the corona, just about equally spaced around the sun. To the northwest we could see a few stars. Cathy pointed out one of the things I had not thought about- for 360 degrees, a full circle, the clouds reflected the sun like it does at dusk. Those red clouds that we usually see only in the west, were all around us. The temperature cooled down about 20 degrees, and it was like an early evening gathering with some close friends.

We watched the diamond ring show up again 2 minutes and 36 seconds later. As the sun started showing up again, everybody broke into singing George Harrison’s Here Comes The Sun. Seems like everyone knew it. We were smiling, shaking hands, talking about how good it was to be there. I’ve been in a few worship services like that. It changes your heart.

Of course, the traffic was horrendous getting out. What was easy coming in was a parking lot going out. But that was okay. We were all taking our time, letting each other in the line, talking to people on the side of the road, offering water and soft drinks to people, and wishing them a good trip home. Some even talked about trying to make it to Carbondale in 2024. We will see.

As Cathy and I drove home, two thoughts came to me. The first is the opening lines from Psalm 19-

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the handiwork of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words;

no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

And the second was this- what united us was greater than what divided us.

God, that it would always be so, I prayed.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

Ok. Now that I have your attention, let me say I do not HATE Andy Stanley. I have never met the man. I have read a fair number of his books. Like Will Willimon, he does not seem to have an unpublished thought. And, like Willimon, most of his thoughts are worth considering. We have some theological differences, but that’s not a reason to hate him (or anyone). He seems to be a good man, he loves the Lord, and he loves people. So how can you not like him? But something in me gets riled up by him.

I have the same feelings for Rick Warren, the heir apparent to Billy Graham as America’s pastor, Max Lucado, one of the best story-tellers in the country, and Craig Groeschel, pastor of the largest church in the country. And, just so you’ll know it’s not all of these in their particular denominations. There are some within my own tribe, the UMC, that raise the same feelings in me.

Here’s the issue: I am not them and I do not serve a church like theirs. Every time someone comes to me (and they often do) and say, “Pastor Mike, I just heard the most moving sermon I have ever heard by (fill in the name of any nationally known preacher),” what I hear is, “Why can’t you preach sermons like that?” When someone says, “Well, at that church they have the best process for welcoming non-believers into the church. Why can’t you do that?” I want to say, “Because I’m trying to just keep up with us.” A well-meaning church member told me, “You just need to work smarter.” I didn’t know how to tell them, but this is about as smart as I can get.

Those churches with pastors like Stanley, Warren, Lucado, Groeschel, etc. are different. Not only are they much larger, but they have different needs, and are in different communities. They do not do pastoral care in their congregation. That doesn’t mean people aren’t cared for, it just means that it’s not the pastor who cares for them. If you have an illness, if your parent dies, if your child is in a horrible wreck, in Florence SC, and you are part of a church, you pretty much expect your pastor to show up. And he/she wants to. If you are part of a 25,000-member church with seven campuses, and you see your preacher more often on a screen than in real life, don’t expect him to be there to pray with you before you go into surgery. Perhaps someone from the congregation, or from your small group, will be there, but you cannot expect your pastor to…..well….pastor.

I get leadership “tips” from most of the above-mentioned folks, and some others, almost every day. I’m on about a zillion email lists.  And I like what they have to say. But it’s obvious we’re in very different places. One of them writes about his schedule. “I get up early, spend some time with the Lord, go to the gym, work out and talk with friends there, then get into the office about 10. I’m usually in the office from 10 until 3, where I work on the Sunday service most days of the week. After 3 I go home, spend time with my kids and wife, then read and relax for the evening. And I usually take Friday and Saturday off.” Curious about how that works, I emailed and asked some questions, and, surprisingly enough, he wrote back. I’ve emailed, mailed, and handwritten a lot of pastors, asking questions. Most do not reply. So I was grateful for his.  Here are some of the questions and answers.

Q:“When and how often do you visit your home-bound and assisted living members?”

A: “I don’t. We have very few members like that. Our church was a new church plant, and we reached out to younger adults. We really have very few older adults, and we let their small group, if they are in one, care for them.”

Q: “Do you visit the hospitals when your members are sick?”

A: “No. I watch after my staff and their families. I expect the congregation to take care of itself.”

Q: “What kind of relationship do you have with the children and youth in your church?”

A: “I love every one of them! But I know less than a hand full. I let my staff care for that.”

Q: “How many church meetings do you attend?”

A: “One. I have an advisory board of 7 people in my church. We meet once a month.”

Q: “How much time do you spend with your church doing community outreach?”

A: “Very little. I spend most of my time developing sermons that will meet people’s needs. I find that if I do that, all the rest takes care of itself.”

There were a few other questions he answered, then wished me well.

Andy Stanley says that his church, which started with more people than my current church has, said they wanted to make a church that non-churched people would be comfortable in. And they did that. According to him, you might walk into their worship space and the band be playing old Beatles songs. Nothing wrong with that. I sort of like the idea. But I would feel real bad about all of those people in my church that have loved it and supported it for generations walking out. This is not to say that I don’t want to change, because I do, but there’s a dynamic here that is not in other places.

Rick Warren has all his 100,000 people reading the same book at the same time (usually written by him) for a few months. It’s a great thing. A couple of years ago our church decided to read through the Bible together and use our readings for Sunday school and worship for about 9 months. For some in the church, you would have thought that I had said, “Why don’t we all burn the International Lesson Series in a bonfire.” By the way, the church did it, the people learned and grew and were very appreciative of it, but said, by and large, “let’s not do anything like that again.”

Another one of the pastors said his church gives him the summer off, so he can plan the sermons for the other nine months. I can hear how that might go at my church. “You want to take off for the summer so you can work on the rest of the year? Okay by me, as long as you don’t mind if we don’t pay you for the summer.”

I also know that there are some of my colleagues who hate me. For the same reasons. We have a wonderful children’s ministry, an active and growing youth ministry, and the best preschool weekday ministry in town. I also have the best staff members leading those programs. And I’m sure that at some smaller, struggling church, a church member is saying to their pastor, “Mike Henderson’s church does this…..” and that pastor walks off muttering my name and a few words.

Please hear me clearly. I’m not complaining about where I am or what I do. I am in a church that has some older members “who want to see the preacher, and anybody else, but only the preacher really counts,” some parents of teenagers and children who want me to know what’s going on in those areas and to make sure that everything they do is the best in town, and some younger members who are looking for ways to serve and wondering why we don’t meet in the local pub. I have lots of people who sincerely want to serve Jesus by serving others, and some who are here to see what’s in it for them. I have some who are scared to death of change, and others who are scared we will not change.

Many of them want to see the best at Highland Park, and by best, they mean what they have read about or seen in those other churches. I am sure that those other high profile preachers have struggles, though for all their talk about authenticity and vulnerability, most do not share them with the congregations. Maybe that’s why so many fall, and our hearts go out to them. In my church, people see my shortcomings and failures up close. They see how I am not able to do everything, and the things I do, while they may be the best I can do, are not the best.

So while I do not really hate Andy Stanley and the rest, I am not one of them. And though I do not know what to do to make Highland Park be “the next big thing” among churches in Florence, there are three things I do know. I will just try to be the best me. I will continue to love Highland Park, because they are a great church and at the same time just regular people (like me). And I will find ways to serve Jesus in the world.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

I’m finishing day 9 of a 30 day experiment- no TV. No network TV, no streaming, Netflix, Youtube.   I read a Fast Company article last week, How Giving Up TV For A Month Changed My Brain And My Life, and it challenged me. So I am giving it a try.

Not that I watched that much anyway. Star Trek TNG, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Call The Midwife, Sherlock, Boardwalk Empire, Maria Bamford, maybe a movie, and then I was through for the night. Okay, I didn’t watch all of those every night, but usually two or three. I’ve made it through this first week okay. And if I can make it through the next couple, I should make it more than the 30, since I’m going to Africa at the end of the month for a couple of weeks. I know, they have TV over there, but I’ll be busy doing other things. I remember being in Belgium years ago, coming in from some touring, turning on the TV in my refrigerator-sized room, and watching The Dukes of Hazard. In Flemish. A waste of a beautiful language.

I’ve noticed some things. First, I don’t (as yet) miss it. Which means I was probably mindlessly watching it. Well, it is the boob tube. And I’ve kept up with important stuff in other ways- radio, newspaper, occasional smoke signal. I don’t need to see videos of radical Southern terrorists to know the harm and damage they do. Or Donald Trump ranting and Hillary Clinton responding. I’ve seen enough already.

Second, I’m sleeping better. I do not usually sleep well through the night. Haven’t for a long time. But I am doing better. Hoping one night to make it six hours in a row.

And third, I’ve been thinking about the shows I used to watch. Not a lot, but about one characteristic that jumps out now. Almost none of them ever have anyone watching TV. The sitcoms, the dramas, even the animated shows, usually have people talking to each other, going somewhere, doing something. My wife is a big fan of HG TV. She loves to watch Fixer Upper. That show and the couple on it have saved HGTV in the same way that Pawn Stars saved The History Channel several years ago. Chip and Joanna Gaines are getting to be more than famous for their TV show as well as what seems like a great marriage. In a recent interview, Joanna revealed that they do not have a TV in their home. Their children do not watch TV. They do not watch TV. Not even their own show.

If people who make a living on TV do not watch TV, that ought to tell us something.

Now I have read most of my magazines. I’ve finished a couple of books. And even begun writing again. Will I make it 30 days? I don’t know, but I think I will. And in the meantime, I’ll get a few other things done.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

“Am I a fool at this late date

To heed a voice that says 

   that you can be great

I heard it young, now I hear it again…”

John Gorka, Morningside

This song by John Gorka kept playing in my head this morning as I did my six miles to Starbucks and back. Tomorrow I turn 62, not a spectacular date, like 65 or those years ending in zero. But I have been thinking about it, more so than most birthdays.

Someone recently told me that “60 is the new 40,” whatever that means. I said, “Great! I guess that means we all have to work another 25 years.”

To be honest, I’m not counting my years to retirement, nor looking to do it any time soon. I think I’ll work until my job is through, then find another way to serve.

I have been thinking about what I am doing with my life for the last couple of years. Like Gorka’s song, I’ve been hearing something inside me that I heard when I was young. It’s not that I want to be great, nor even have any illusions of greatness. But I want to make a difference. I always have. My greatest fear for many years was that I would get to the end of my life and, after having the proverbial passing of my life before my eyes, I would think “None of it made any difference.” Then I would die. My teen years were about being a rebel. Ask my family. Or the high school administration that kicked me out of school a record 23 times. My 20s and 30s were concerned with making a difference. I became a United Methodist pastor for many reasons, one of which was I thought the church was in the business of making a difference in the world. I thought that through this system, the UMC, we could make a difference. Bring justice, forgiveness, hope, peace, love, acceptance. “ …to proclaim good news to the poor…. freedom for the prisoners…recovery of sight for the blind…to set the oppressed free… to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19) This system called the United Methodist Church, and all the churches that were a part of it, would be making a difference in the world.

Somewhere along the way, I gave up on the system. Institutional survival seemed to be the highest order. As one denominational leader told me, “Of course, we have to focus on keeping the church alive. If the church dies, then so do all the ministries it supports. It’s like we’re a ship at sea. Your first order of business is to keep the ship afloat.” So much for that “he who seeks their own life will lose it, but he who loses his life for my sake and the gospel, will save it.” Who said that?

I never gave up on local churches, though. In them, I saw, for the most part, people who wanted to make a difference in this world, too. So I looked to them and focused on them. Institutions, by their very nature, look to preserve themselves. Years ago a very good friend, an older gentleman whom I dearly loved, but disagreed with on almost everything political, asked me if I knew what the number one priority of any political party was. He then told me, “To get in power.” He then asked if I knew what the number two priority was. He told me, “To stay in power.” Serving people, he said was way on down the line. Same goes for business. Same goes for church hierarchy.

But I have found joy and peace in the churches I serve.

Another song lyric went through my head as I walked.

So you pretend not to notice
That everything has changed
The way that you look
And the friends you once had
So you keep on acting the same
But deep down in your soul
You know you, you got no flame
And who knows then which way to go
Life is short even in its longest days

John Mellencamp, Longest Days

(Why is it that the musicians that I listen to most these days are named John? John Gorka, John Mellencamp, John Denver, John Mayall, John Coltrane, John Lennon, John(athan) Munn, Johnny Cash, Johnny Nash, the list could go on. For my friends named John, don’t get a big head. Your name is also what we call a toilet.)

Mellencamp seemed pretty depressed. Might be because of his heart problems. But whatever it was, I know some of his feelings. Life is short, even in its longest days.

But….

Something in me has come alive that I felt in those early days. I want to make a difference.

Things have gone pretty well for me lately. I have a lovely wife who loves me far beyond comprehension. I have reconnected with some friends from the past, one back to the summer of 1972, and another who was born 8 days before me and is one of my heroes. A few clergy friends have stuck by me through thick and thin, and many others have tolerated me. A few have even forgiven me, which speaks worlds for them.

I have been very fortunate in the churches I have served. I have loved every one of them. Not every one has had the same measure of success (however you would measure that), but every one is one I would go back to. Not so with many of my minister friends. Some have had such painful experiences they will not even go back to a particular town. I have been very lucky. Or blessed.

And the church I serve now is incredible. (See my reflection, 13 Reasons Why I Love My Church.) I do not know when my time here will end, but it will be a good place to end.

Not that I want it to end soon. This stirring, this desire to make a difference, burns deep within me. Gorka’s voice rings in my head-

Don’t want to waste what I have to give

 In all of the time that I’ve left to live  

Don’t want to waste what I have to give

In any of the time that I’ve got left

 I can do more than I thought I could

 Work brings more luck than knocking on wood

There’s random bad and random good

 Work brings more good luck, good luck

 Good luck

I hope it’s true that 60 is the new 40. I want those extra 25 years. Maybe I can make a difference. I plan to try.

Happy birthday.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

I recently read an article by Thom Rainer, “12 Reasons I Love My Pastor.” It’s a pretty good read, and as a pastor, I am appreciative of how he feels about his. It got me thinking today as I took an afternoon walk with Cathy about twelve reasons I love my church. I came up with thirteen.

My church is Highland Park United Methodist Church, in Florence, SC. But it is also more than that. It is the South Carolina Conference of the United Methodist Church. It is the United Methodist Church around the world. It is the Church of all who follow Christ, regardless of denominational affiliation (or lack thereof). And it is the Church on earth AND the Church in Heaven. So I want to give thirteen reasons why I love my church, starting with Highland Park, because it is the closest and most immediate to me, and moving on to the larger church.

Three words before I begin the list. 

First, some will immediately want to jump on me for using the term “my church,” saying it’s not mine but God’s. And they are right. “The Church is of God and will be preserved to the end of time,” our baptismal and membership vows state. So, yes, the Church is of God, but I say “my church” because it is where I was raised and have chosen to stay.

Second, I know that there are problems, faults, issues, and sins with the church on all levels (except the Church in Heaven). This is not to ignore those. We are human, and though the Church is a divine institution, it is made up of people. That’s not an excuse for our bullheadedness, our bigotry, our hypocrisy, and our ego-centered ways. But despite all of that, God still has chosen the Church as the way to proclaim divine love, justice, and peace. It’s like Winston Churchill’s statement about democracy to the House of Commons “Many forms of Gov­ern­ment have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pre­tends that democ­racy is per­fect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democ­racy is the worst form of Gov­ern­ment except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…” (November 11, 1947) The Church may not be perfect, but no other institution on earth (including governments) has started more public schools, hospitals, food pantries, clothing closets, stood for justice, worked for peace, spoken for the downtrodden and oppressed. It freely offers grace and forgiveness, even at its own expense. So, while the Church is not perfect, I still love it.

Third, many people will disagree with me because they do not believe that I am a part of the authentic church. As one woman in another denomination told me, “You, and other churches have a reflection of the Light, but our denomination has THE Light.” A young man in what he called a non-denominational church (which, I think is really a small denomination, just consisting of that church) said, “Man, God left your church and all denominational churches a long time ago.” Of all the sinful things we see in the church, this bothers me most. As a matter of fact, it irritates me and makes me angry. This exclusionary feeling among brother and sister Christians (though most of them do not consider me, and probably not you, as a brother or sister) is in direct opposition to the prayer of Jesus in John 17. Churches that do not believe my baptism was real, churches that exclude me and others from taking part in the Lord’s Supper, churches that immediately dismiss me and my friends as a person, cause something to rise up within me. Perhaps it goes back to my childhood when I was not chosen for things, or when I have seen my friends hurt by the rejection of others. And when those things show up among fellow Christians, I have to remember the poem I learned in childhood-

“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In !”

(from the poem Outwitted, by Edwin Markham)

Having said all that, on to the list!

1.       I love my church, Highland Park, because the people there take their faith seriously. They are not somber, legalistic, bombastic, or exclusive, but they want to know what it means to be a follower of Jesus in the world today. So, for the most part, from the youngest to the oldest, they are constantly growing in love and grace. As the Apostle Paul said, “I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding.” (Philippians 1:9)

2.     I love my church, Highland Park, because they care for one another. Though it is a growing mid-sized church (around 700 members), and the members do not know all of the other members, whenever a concern is mentioned for any of them, almost all of them respond. Prayer, calls, meals, financial help, you name it, they are there! With no questions other than “How can we help” “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”- Jesus, John 13:35

3.      I love my church, Highland Park, because they are willing to risk in order to serve Christ. An example (only one of many)- on Sunday, May 17, rather than staying inside the walls of the church for worship that day, they decided to worship by serving others directly in the community. So we gathered early in the morning, had a very brief time of worship, and went out to be the hands and feet of Jesus in Florence. We served in 16 sites around the community, loving others in Christ’s name doing things to make God’s love real and tangible. Some were uncomfortable with doing it on a Sunday. After all, isn’t that breaking a commandment? (No.) But they did it anyway. And we could feel the Holy Spirit’s presence among us as we built a ramp for a needy family, did manicures and talked, sang and prayed with women in assisted living facilities, took men who never got out of the nursing home fishing, painted the local free medical clinic, and did hundreds of other things around the community. “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.”- James 1:22

4.      I love my church, Highland Park, because they are very generous. Highland Park has members whose income ranges from “just getting by” to “doing quite well.” Almost all of them see what they have as gifts from God, to be used for others. They give sacrificially, not just from the excess, often denying themselves in order to help others. They inspire me through their generosity. “Every person shall give as they are able, according to the blessing of the Lord your God which he has given you.” – Deuteronomy 16:17

5.      I love my church, Highland Park, because they allow me, as their pastor, to be myself. My sense of humor does not always fit in with church folks. My wanting to use music that may speak to us, but is not specifically Christian, is not always accepted in places. And when I screw up, when I fail miserably at something I thought would be wonderful, or forget something important, or do the wrong thing, they forgive me and help me to move on. They do not put me on a pedestal, and when I step up on one myself, they gently help me down, rather than knocking me down. And, I should add, they treat each other that way. Billy Graham once said, “It is the Holy Spirit’s job to convict, God’s job to judge and my job to love.” They live this out with me and with each other. “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.”- Ephesians 4:12

6.     I love my church, Highland Park, because they treat my wife well. She is loved by the congregation (who doesn’t love her?) but they do not consider her an “unpaid employee.” They let her be herself, choosing what she will join with, and what she will not do, as most of them do. They do not try to force her into a mold, nor compare her with other clergy spouses. I have no doubt that if she were not my wife, but still a member of the church, they would treat her with the same love, care, and respect. That eases a lot of tension in the parsonage. Sorry, I can’t think of a Bible verse to go along with that! But it is true!

7.    I love my church, the SC UMC, because it works as a large body in our state, doing things together that we could not do alone. The 40 Salkehatchie Camps, the 13 Advanced Special Mission sites, the 4 colleges, the campus ministry on every residential campus in the state, the hundreds of other ministries that we lead, guide, and support, could not be done by one church. Together we make a real presence of Christ seen, felt, and heard.

8.      I love my church, the SC UMC, because it has a wide variety of pastors. Not just by age, gender (which can’t be too wide- there are only two; but in some denominations and churches, there is only one), ethnicity, but in theology. Our clergy range from very conservative to very liberal, yet we hang in there and work with one another. We challenge each other to authentically follow Christ. Except those on the outermost fringes, I rarely hear anyone accuse someone of not being a disciple of Jesus, even when we may disagree.

9.     I love my church, the SC UMC, because it gives me (and others) the security needed to be the pastor I am called to be. I have talked with many clergy from other denominations and churches who have faced the fear of being fired from their church, not for immorality, breaking the law, or even incompetence, but merely because they grew older. They have been removed by congregations and left without a way to make a living because they proclaimed the gospel and it offended people (as it often does). Churches have struggled when they knew it was time for a change in pastoral leadership because they love their pastor but knew if they asked him or her to leave, they would be without a job. That is not so among us in the SC UMC. We may end up moving somewhere we never thought we would go, but we are not left out with no means of support.

10.  I love my church, the SC UMC, because I have seen it be more interested in restoration and reconciliation than in judgment and punishment. I have seen this both in the public arena, and I have seen it in the areas that are not so public. When I have failed, which I have so many times, when my ego has ruined me, my brothers and sisters, though hurt, have found ways to forgive me. For that, I love my church. They are the body of Christ!

11.  I love my church, the UMC, because it has a global impact. I have been fortunate enough to travel in many parts of the world, in North America, Europe, Africa, and a little bit of Asia. There were three things that I saw everywhere, from the smallest village in the bush in Zimbabwe, to the Navaho nation, to large cities. Those three things were the symbols of the Coca Cola Company, Singer Sewing Machines, and the United Methodist Church. We have people who are following Christ all around the world.

12.   I love my church, the Church of all people who follow Christ, because I find in them all kinds of ways of God showing love to the world. There is a commitment that goes beyond our walls of denomination and title, and a desire to see God’s realm come on earth. And the sooner, the better.

13.   I love my church, the Church Universal, the Church on Earth and in Heaven, because I am part of a living body of people who I may not see, but their voices join with mine in praise to God. Those from 2,000 years ago are still with us, and the future generations of believers, though I have not seen them, are, too. Because all who are connected to God are beyond all time and space. I look forward to the day when I will get to see them face to face.

I could go on, but that’s enough for now. Thanks for reading!

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

Today I did something new. Because I have been sick for the last few days, I stayed home from church (thanks to Andy Edmunds for leading worship and watched  4 televised worship services. I’ve never watched televised worship before. When I am on vacation, I find a church to attend. I realized a few things while watching.

First, worship in a sanctuary does not translate well into television. Television is mostly a medium for entertainment and information. Even with the best shows that try to be interactive, it is not an interactive medium. And worship is interactive. It is not us watching something, or even learning something, though those two things happen. It is us interacting with each other, before God, giving our praise, thanksgiving, confession, problems, ourselves. At best, we watch other people do that on TV. At worst, we have poor entertainment.

Still, the area churches and pastors did the best they could. I could not have done any better, and probably done a lot worse.

Second, television magnifies your flaws. I’m not talking about the extra 20 pounds it seems to add to you, nor the complexion flaws that some of us have. Preaching (and worship) is conversational in nature- that is, there is a three way conversation between the worship leaders, the congregation, and God. And conversations do not flow in a fluid manner. There are ebbs and flows, side streams and eddys, and sometimes “uhs” and “ahs”. These are perfectly fine in worship/conversation, but on TV they look like unpreparedness, hesitancy, and fear. They are not, but they look that way. I think my sermons would not look or sound well on TV. (To be honest, they often do not look or sound well live and in person.)

Third, the local churches that were broadcast did not make appeals for funds from the TV audience like the nationally broadcast religious shows. They were on the air because they wanted to share something of great value with the world around them, and this was one way. I am glad of that and commend them for that.

Also, three of the four did not exalt themselves but lifted up the Lord Jesus Christ. The fourth did lift up Christ, but many times it was pointed out that they were the “true” church in the area. One preacher even admonished his live and TV congregation to find a church and get involved if they were not being fed at his particular church. 

Several people have told me from time to time that they worship with the churches on TV, that is, they stay home but watch the shows, sometimes even joining in singing the hymns. It may do for the moment, but, honestly, it’s a poor substitute. Right before starting to watch these TV worship services, I watched part of a nature show on the BBC. The host was showing natural phenomena on each continent. Beautiful, amazing sights around the globe. Several of them I have seen in person. I’ve hiked the rim of the Grand Canyon, climbed some of the Alps in Germany and Austria, and tried to climb sand dunes in the desert of Namibia (all of which were shown on this show). And though the photography was outstanding and the narration moving, it was not the same as being there.  David, in the Old Testament, wrote many of the Psalms, and would use them to worship while he was out watching the sheep. But even he knew it wasn’t the same as being with the people. “Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker…” Psalm 95:6

Worshipping alone- it isn’t the same.

Note: In looking back over my writings and blogs over the years, I realize I have had several different blogs. To get all my writing in one place, I am porting them over to this one. The date in the title is the original date of publication.

I know I’m going to get into trouble saying this, and will probably be misunderstood by a lot of people, but hunger is not the problem. At least not in our country. And maybe not in the world. Maybe.

Don’t get me wrong. I fully support all our hunger ministries. Food banks and food pantries, soup kitchens, meals served to the needy. I give, urge my church to give, and get up early to go to a parking lot in a poor section of town once a month to give a hot breakfast to about 200 people. (And the number is growing.)

But hunger is not the problem. At least, not in most cases.

Hunger is a symptom, not the problem. Just like sore throat, high fever, and aching muscles are symptoms of the flu, they are not the problem. The flu is. And hunger is a symptom of a greater problem.

Think of it this way. If hunger were the real problem, and we gave people food, enough to last a month or two, and they never showed up again, we would have solved the problem. But people show up, over and over again. We feed the hungry people. They are satisfied, at least for a while. But then show up again needing food.

The problem may be economic. People may not have jobs, or the ones they have do not pay enough to help them maintain a “minimally adequate” lifestyle (to use a phrase loved in South Carolina). Or it could be economic in that people are not taught how to manage their money, so that they may have enough money but not be planning well. Economic development and education are the answers to these problems. Both are sorely needed in South Carolina, and I would guess in most of our country. I rode through a “ghost town” near Florence recently. Buildings are boarded up, the streets are terrible, and there are only a few stores and no industry. There are lots of people still living in the area, folks who cannot afford to move, but also can’t afford to stay and eat. They are trapped. Many of them are hungry. Food will help for a day. Economic development will help for generations.

People have often stopped by my office looking for help with food. I have sat with many and talked about their income and expenditures. An overwhelming number have become trapped in title-loan prison, always going from one place to another, putting off the inevitable payment of outrageous interest. They have mortgaged their future on credit cards, and rarely ask the question “Can I afford this?” but ask the question “What are the payments?” These are good people, children of God, who have not been taught how to deal with their money. Budgets, they think, are for someone who has more money than they do. We usually give them food, because it is easier than trying to help them learn to budget and live within their means, or increase their means. “Here’s a box of food. God bless you. We’ll see you again in a few months.” Education is hard. It takes time. But it changes the future.

There are a few situations where people are overfed and undernourished. This, too, is an educational issue. The April 9, 2013 issue of The State Newspaper (Columbia) had an article “Eating Healthy on a Food Stamp Budget.” A nutritionist walked through a local grocery store, and was able to buy healthy food for a family of four for $118. Maximum weekly benefit for a family of four is $135. Of course, you have to cook, and that takes time and planning, and for some hungry families, that is hard. But that is where being a part of local church that cares for each other, as well as for those outside of the church, can help. What would it be like if this problem were addressed by members of a local church, helping those in need. Of course, it’s still easier, if we just give someone a box of food.

And I hate to mention this one, because this is the only thing some people will focus on. But it must be dealt with. There are some people who will not work; whose job is to go from one place to another finding someone else to take care of their symptoms. Paying utility and rent bills, food and clothing, gas, and transportation issues. Once again hunger is not the issue. It is the symptom. Responsibility, or lack thereof, is the problem. And while some people have been pressed down so hard that they have given up, the answer comes in helping them to take responsibility. Even standing with them until they can stand on their own. And for those who absolutely refuse to take responsibility, they must face the consequences of their actions. Children and the elderly, who are usually part of these families, too, need to be protected. But people find self-worth when they can take responsibility for their lives.

Jesus talks about the kingdom in Matthew 25 and says “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat.” Yet, in John 6 when he feeds the five thousand, the next day when they come looking for him and another free meal, he does not feed them. Instead he talks about feeding on him, the “bread of life.” The response- most of the people leave. I wonder if a modern day translation of Matthew 25 would read, “I was hungry, and you helped to develop work for me so that I could eat, feed my family, and live decently.”

All this is not to say that there are no people who are in need. And it is definitely not to say that we should stop feeding the hungry. There are times when people need help getting through a rough time. Medical emergencies occur, job loss happens, and other unexpected events cause us to need help. 

But until we address the real problems, until we ask “why do we have hungry people” and follow it up with “what can we do about that and when will we do it,” we will never stop hunger. Not now. Not ever.