#14 Tears for Tim

The weekend of my ordination I had a "welcome to the ministry" kind of moment. I was beginning a series on Job that week, and on Friday morning I was writing my sermon when Tess got ahold of me. She let me know that Pastor Tim Koster, the pastor of Emmanuel CRC, the church we had attended in college, was stopping medical treatment. He and his wife had decided that he was ready to die and go to be with the Lord. It felt like everything froze around me. The news left me stunned.

I didn't know Pastor Tim super well, but he had been my pastor for the better part of three-and-a-half years. Pastor Tim helped me get started working with the high school youth group at Emmanuel. While I was in seminary, I ran into Pastor Tim at worship symposium each year. He was always excited to hear how I was doing and was quick to offer encouragement. He was a kind, caring, and compassionate man. He provided steady leadership and spoke with a soft but weighty voice. Pastor Tim was respected in his community and beloved in his congregation. I had a ton of respect for this man of God. He was very much the kind of pastor that I would like to be. If God uses me to minister even half as well in my setting as Pastor Tim seemed to minister in his setting, I would consider myself very blessed.

Tess and I had learned that Pastor Tim was sick back in the spring. Emmanuel invited me to come and fill the pulpit for him in April, which was a huge honor. A week or so before that, I had a brief conversation with Pastor Tim. He told me about the procedures he would be undergoing and told me that he was feeling optimistic. He wished me blessings in my job search and told me to let him know if there was any way he could be of assistance. I remember walking away from that conversation filled with joy. It was so good to talk to Pastor Tim again.

On the Friday I learned that Pastor Tim was ready to die, I spent some time reading Facebook updates to get a better sense of what was going on. Afterward, as I sat in front of my computer, trying to work on the sermon some more, I broke down. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I thought about how unfair Tim's coming death seemed and about the pain and grief his family and his congregation were experience. And then I came to a realization about the nature of my ministry: I'm the person in my church community that others come to talk to about their pain and grief. I don't have a pastor in the same way that other people do. This was something that we talked about in seminary, but this experience really brought it home to me. It was a strange thought, a scary thought. But at the same time, it was a validating thought. In that moment I wanted someone to talk to, someone to share the experience with. I get to be that person for others. God calls me to walk beside others in their grief and pain. It won't be easy or smooth, but it will be honest. It will be heartfelt. It will be real. And I think that's a lot of what ministry is about.

(P.S. Please don't feel sorry for me. That is NOT my intention here. It's not like I'm in this alone. Tess and I support each other. I have family and friends outside the church that I can talk to. I have a mentor in my classis pastor, and he serves as my pastor in a way. Plus, while my relationship with my congregation is not level in some ways, they definitely support me, especially my council members.)

Grace and peace,
BMH

#13 Lift Up Your Hearts

Yesterday, we celebrated communion at Kanawha CRC for the first time since my ordination. I was incredibly excited. Communion (or, if you prefer, the Lord's Supper) is probably my favorite part of our worship services. Much of my love for this sacrament comes from the three years Tess and I attended Grace CRC in Grand Rapids, MI. Grace celebrates communion on the first Sunday of every month plus every Sunday during Advent and Lent. Celebrate is really the key word here. We would sing a few songs while groups came up to receive the bread and the cup, and those songs always ended on a joyfully grateful note. I was frequently left in awe of God's goodness and grace.

But this atmosphere of celebration and joy isn't the case in all the churches where I've taken communion. Often the mood is somber, reflective, and even funeral-like. I think that it is good to reflect on Jesus' sacrifice. Being aware of our own sinfulness is key to better understanding and appreciating God's grace to us in Jesus. But I firmly believe that we are missing out if our communion experiences are only somber all the time. We talk about celebrating the sacrament, and we have much to celebrate. Let's run down the list:

• In communion, we remember Jesus' sacrificial death, which may indeed lead us to quiet reflection. But we also do this because Jesus' death was not the end. Our Lord rose from the dead, ascended into heaven, and is coming again! Jesus' death paid for our sins and brought us forgiveness, and it was His victory over the powers of this world (see Colossians 2:15). Jesus' death is part of His triumph, which is also our triumph.
• In communion, we remember that "we who are many are one body." Jesus Christ overcomes all human divisions and make His chosen people into one new people. In communion we celebrate our unity by sharing the bread and the cup.
• Through communion, God strengthens and nourishes our faith. As the Heidelberg Catechism says, God's Spirit creates faith through preaching and confirms faith through sacraments (Q&A 65). Communion helps us better understand what Christ has done for us (Q&A 66). Bread and wine/juice are food for our physical lives, just as Jesus' body and blood are food for our spiritual lives (Q&A 79). God is at work in communion! He holds out the blessings and benefits of Jesus for us to receive by the Holy Spirit and faith. Communion is indeed "the gifts of God for the people of God."
• In communion, we get a foretaste of life when God's kingdom fully comes. At the last supper, Jesus said that He wouldn't drink wine again until He drank it new in God's kingdom (see Matthew 26:29). Communion is just a taste to whet our appetite for the great feast that awaits us, the great banquet of God.
• In communion, the Holy Spirit lifts us up into Jesus' heavenly presence. In the Reformed tradition, we firmly believe both that Jesus has ascended to heaven and that Jesus is present when we celebrate communion here on earth. As we understand it, Jesus' physical body remains in heaven, but He is spiritually present in our celebration. Rather than talking about Jesus coming down to us in communion, we speak of Christ lifting us up to Him. This is why we often say "lift up your hearts" at the beginning of our communion celebrations. We believe that communion is a taste of heaven!

So next time you take, eat and drink, remember, and believe, I encourage you to do so with joy and gladness. Our sins are forgiven, our enemies are defeated, our Lord is reigning and present with us, our Savior feeds us with Himself, we are united as a renewed people, and we look forward to an even greater celebration yet to come. Let's celebrate!

Grace and peace,

BMH

#12 Words, Words, Words

I've never thought of myself as a very verbal person. I was a math major in college. Except for when I'm with family and my closest friends, I'm normally pretty content to just sit and listen in group settings. In school I was always happier taking tests where I could spit back facts than writing essays where I had to put things into my own words.

But now, it seems, my whole life revolves around words. I am constantly searching for the right words. I'm leading profession of faith class discussions and trying to carefully explain what we believe about mysteries such as the Trinity and the incarnation. I'm visiting with church members and neighbors and trying to pick the right thing to say to prove that I'm listening and understanding them. I'm carefully crafting emails in the hopes that I can get my message across without being misinterpreted. I'm agonizing over my sermon, desperately trying to explain the gospel in a way that's engaging and faithful to my Scripture passage. Even writing this blog can sometimes feel like communication exercise.

Overall, I think the newly more verbal Brian is developing pretty well. I'm getting more comfortable with all the speaking and writing, and I think I'm getting better at explaining things in terms that other people can understand. However, by the time Monday rolls around each week, I'm pretty worn out. Thankfully, I get a full day of recovery and relative silence before putting a few thoughts together for this blog. So if I you find me to be a little quiet or slow to respond, don't worry. I'm just trying to find the right words.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#11 I've Got Too Much Time on My Hands

I'm not in school anymore! I realize school has been going on for a couple months now, but I think about that everyone once in a while. One of the things that's been weirdest for me to adjust to is the amount of time I have. Not that I have a ton of free time. I'm definitely staying busy. But for the first time in my life, I really don't know when my time here will end. Up until now, I've always had a pretty clear expiration date: this many years of school, so many weeks at an internship, etc. But here in Kanawha, I'm not a fixed deadline. There's no end in sight. I suppose I probably won't be here forever, but I have no plans of leaving. I'm in this for the long haul, and that's a good feeling. I'm happy to be here with time on my hands.

But having time on my hands takes some getting used to. I'm used to having to get things done quickly. I'm used to deadlines and due dates. As a pastor, I definitely have to do things in a punctual manner. Each week I have to get a sermon ready for Sunday. There are regular visits I need to make. Council meetings come every month, and there are responsibilites I need to take care of between meetings. But a lot of my work is less time-constrained. I'm hoping to help church members grow in faith and to equip them for works of service. I'm trying to build relationships in my community. I'm working to teach local youth a little more about what it means to be Christian. These things take time. Sometimes I find myself wondering if I'm making any progress or worried that I've missed an opportunity, but that's really not a helpful perspective. I do need to be faithful about building relationships and witnessing and serving, but there's no need to rush. I've got time on my hands. What's more, God is the one who brings church growth and spiritual growth and who leads people to Christ. Outcomes aren't something I need to worry about; diligence and Christlikeness are what I need. Now if only I could totally get that through my head.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#10 Job and Jesus

I spent the past five Sundays preaching on the book of Job. Job is a fascinating book and a difficult book. Job's experience is much more relatable than it appears at first glance. I don't know too many people that have lost all their children (plus all their possessions) at one time. But we are familiar with the experience of suffering, of struggling with pain and hardship that we don't understand. We know the pain of wondering why we face such troubles and how God could allow this to happen. And, as one of my wise seminary friends told me, suffering on any of level can feel like it fills us entirely.

Our friend Job doesn't just accept his suffering. He cries out with brutal honesty to express his pain and protest that he doesn't deserve all this. Job feels he has no choice but to conclude that God is behind all of his pain, and so he begs and pleads and finally demands that God answer him. And God does answer. But God's response is frustratingly beautiful and beautifully frustrating. God never explains why Job has gone through all that he has. The thrust of what God says is, to paraphrase a couple of my seminary profs, I am God and you are not. My world and the way I run it are too big and complicated for you to understand. But I understand it all. You can trust me. And you must trust me. 

This response seems to be enough for Job. Job is both honored and humbled that God would talk to him. Job knows that God has been listening. Job is satisfied to know that God hasn't rejected him. And then God says that Job is His servant and proves it by listening to Job's prayers and by restoring Job's possessions and giving him new children. The book of Job leaves us with this hope: God listens to and doesn't reject His servants, and God can bring restoration after even the worst suffering.

But for us, this response can be hard to take. Sure, Job was restored, but it can be hard for us to believe that things will work out for us, that God is really trustworthy. Here's where we need Jesus. All of Scripture needs to be read with a focus on Jesus, but that seems especially true with the book of Job. God in effect tells Job to trust Him because He's God. But Jesus shows us so much more clearly who God is. Jesus shows us that God loves us so much that God Himself would join our suffering in Jesus Christ. Christ understands our suffering because He is as human as we are. And Jesus suffered for us to bring about our restoration. Jesus died and rose to break the power of sin and death and suffering. We can be confident that God listens to our prayers because His beloved Son, Jesus, brings our prayers before God. When we suffer, Christ is present with us through His Holy Spirit. And Jesus promises us that He is coming back to fully do away with all of our brokenness and pain. Jesus shows us that God is trustworthy because Jesus so clearly shows us that God is love. Jesus shows us so clearly that God uses His power and wisdom on our behalf. Through Jesus we have the hope of restoration, even though we die.

When it comes to the suffering and brokenness and pain that fill our world, we cannot fully answer the why question, as much as we would like to. God doesn't give us easy answers. But instead of why, we can talk about who Jesus is and what He has done. This is the hope and comfort that Job points us to. This is the hope and comfort that we can and must share. Our pain and suffering are real and difficult. God cares about these things. He shows us by giving us the book of Job, and He shows this most of all by giving us Jesus.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#9 Two Things

1. Politics are everywhere in U.S. news with the election less than a month away. Every once in a while I run across an article or clip that references a pastor endorsing a candidate. I'm not sure I can fully express how much that troubles and angers me. I think that pastors, like all citizens, should have their own carefully considered political opinions. But I believe that a pastor publicly endorsing a candidate is wrong, even if the statement of approval comes outside the pulpit. As Christians we represent Jesus Christ, and as pastors we formally represent His church. Publicly supporting a specific candidate as a pastor ties Jesus Christ and His church to that candidate and that party in the minds of a lot of people. That's wrong. Christ is not a Republican or a Democrat or a member of any other party. Pastors endorsing candidates can make others think that all Christians belong to a specific party or agree on a single candidate. That can easily push away those who hold opposite opinions on political issues, but the church transcends political parties and even national boundaries. Furthermore, as pastors we hold authority, whether we like it or not. Supporting a specific candidate comes across as an attempt to use that authority to influence another person's vote. I believe that is a gross misuse of pastoral authority. We can't find a passage in Scripture that tells us which party to vote for. There are no Bible verses that lay out a specific policy on health care or energy (though God does teach us moral principles that should shape our thinking when evaluating different options). This is an area where we can and should use our Christian freedom to decide for ourselves how we think we can best serve Christ and His kingdom with our vote. Christians, pleae, follow the Holy Spirit's leading through your conscience and make up your opinion, instead of taking someone else's opinion, especially a church leader's. I really don't think serving in a church makes someone more qualified to speak on political issues.

2. [Note: I'm not sure everything in this paragraph is going to be phrased as well as possible. If I say something misleading or hurtful, please correct me and help me to use my words more wisely in the future.] There has been a ton of discussion about the 2005 recording of some of Mr. Trump's comments about women released on Friday. Let me be clear: Mr. Trump's comments describe adultery and sexual assault. These comments and the actions they describe are inexcusable, deplorable, and sinful. This is a moral, not a political, issue, and I don't think there can be too many men speaking out against this kind of behavior, behavior that horribly takes advantage of the privilege and power that men, particularly white men, have in our society. But Mr. Trump's comments aren't the only ones that upset me. I've heard too many men saying that these comments are an outrage because they demean someone's daughter or sister or wife. (And I must admit, I sometimes think along these lines, too.) When we say things like that, we seem to be basing the identity and value of a woman based on whichever man she is most closely connected to. That's wrong. These women have identity and value as their own people. Women and men, girls and boys, females and males and persons who identify with both genders or neither gender, persons whose chromosomes are XX or XY or any other possible variation--all people are created in God's image. As human beings, we all have equal value and dignity. We should be upset by these comments because they objectify another human being. It doesn't matter if we have a personal connection with another person. It doesn't matter if we feel more similar to them or more dissimilar to someone else. We should be outraged when any one of us is treated as less than human, treated like an object for someone else's gratification. We cannot be silent when our fellow humans are degraded like this. What's more, if we have power and privilege, we must use them to combat injustice and to work for justice. If we have power and privilege, we must empty ourselves and be first to serve and honor and respect others. Let's treat others as we'd like them to treat us.

Grace and peace,
BMH

#8 Friday Night Lights

(Author's note: If you were expecting a thoughtful and possibly even thought-provoking post after last week, this post might not be for you.)

I don't understand high school football. Let me clarify. I understand how the game works. I know the object of the game, the rules, the different positions, all of that. I'd say I understand the joy of competition in general and team sports in particular. I'm pretty sure I understand school spirit and hometown pride and all of that. But I guess I just don't get why high school football is such a big deal. Why does football seem to be so much more important than other sports? And why is it that I generally enjoy pro football and absolutely love college football but just don't feel all that excited about high school football?

Maybe part of the explanation lies in my background. My high school didn't have a football team. It never has, and almost certainly never will. (For that matter, my college has never had a football team either.) The first time I went to a high school football game was this fall. I've now been to two varsity games and one JV game. So I didn't grow up with high school football. Lots of schools around me had it, but I felt pretty indifferent about what other schools did. High school football wasn't part of my culture.

Beyond that, I was a cross country runner all through high school and college. Cross country is much quieter and simpler and more individual than football is. And the thing about cross country runners--at least most of the ones I know--is that we kind of view ourselves as athletic outsiders. For the most part, nobody outside of the cross country program makes a big deal out of cross country. So we runners sort of developed a chip on our shoulder and prided ourselves on being tough enough to compete without all the attention. Could I be bitter about or jealous of the attention that football gets? Maybe.

Maybe I'm just not the right age for high school football. I'm too old to be a high school student, so I don't have the joy of watching my peers. I'm too young to be a parent, so I don't have the joy of watching my kids. Plus, I'm in a new area. I know a few of the kids at West Hancock High School, but maybe I just haven't built up enough affection for the school yet. I don't know, though. I felt pretty engaged when I caught a volleyball match a couple weeks ago.

Maybe I just find high school football to be kind of...well, boring. (Gasp!) I realize this is nearly sacrilegious, but hear me out. The games can take forever, and there's a lot of standing around between plays. The clock seems to always be stopping, the ball often gets lost in a mass of bodies, and it can be really hard to tell from midfield if somebody scored before the officials signal. Plus, West Hancock is really good this year. The couple games I've seen haven't been good games at all. We were up 45-0 at halftime last Friday night. I spent most of the game talking to a five-year-old girl from my church. Honestly, I had more fun with that than watching the game. And even when I watch higher levels of football, I'm often doing something else at the same time. I realize how uncool this makes me, but I spent most of Saturday's Wisconsin-Michigan game reading The Banner between plays.

Finally, maybe high school football just makes me nervous. I've read a decent number of articles on football and concussions. Each time a player is a little slow to get up, I get concerned. I struggle to cheer for a big hit. I just hope the kids make it out okay. When I think about having my own kids, I have serious reservations about letting my own child play tackle football. However, I don't seem to worry quite as much when I watch higher level football; maybe that's becuase college and pro players are older. I don't know. For now, I guess I just don't totally understand high school football. I'll just have to keep trying. Maybe the lightbulb will go on soon. If not, I could always find some cross country.

Grace and peace,
Brian