Just For a Season

[The following is a fiction article I'd written long ago for a Sunday School take-home paper... Pastor John's excellent sermon brought it back to my mind, and I'm offering it here as an "Amen" to Sunday's message].

Just for a Season

Dear Marjorie,

It was a godsend to receive your letter. I mean that literally. It was inspired by God Himself, I have no doubt.

I was away all day Saturday and didn’t know it had come. Sunday morning as I grabbed my car keys, I noticed your unopened letter. Sarah wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, so I took a quick minute to read it.

Josh’s questions and protests are really getting to you, I can tell. I guess it’s pretty common for teens to go through that sort of thing – part of the process of finding for themselves what is true, of making it their own because they really do believe it, not just because they’ve been told it’s so.

You worry that you “are driving him away by insisting on church.” I had gotten just that far in your letter when Sarah called me; if I didn’t hurry we’d be late for the soccer game. I stuffed your letter in my coat pocket and we jumped into the car. That’s when a thought, a little humorous, a little unsettling, came to me: It was 9:30 a.m. Sunday morning. I was driving my daughter away from church. Literally.

Kind of an unpleasant realization for a Christian parent. You know how deeply involved in church activities we were when you lived here. But when Sarah reached junior high, there were so many opportunities – and she was so talented. I didn’t want those abilities to be wasted. And I suppose it made me feel good to see her so successfully involved. I knew there’d be a few Sunday afternoon practices and an occasional Sunday morning game, but she begged and we allowed it “for just this season.”

We hadn’t anticipated that she would do so well. There were play-offs, then another new sport began, and then a weekend summer job that seemed the only one available. I made it to church about half the time, and consequently dropped out of most of my responsibilities there. It seemed so harmless to spend a few seasons driving my daughter away from church.

I haven’t said anything to you about all this, but it’s been going on for a couple of years now. I can’t say I didn’t know what was happening, or that it was a mistake. It was a deliberate decision that just mushroomed into more than we had intended.

What I began to understand, after I read your letter, was that this "season" with her will soon be over. The play-offs will soon be here. And I have done far worse than allow her to sit it out. When the church and the world went head-to-head, I supported the opposition.

Sarah and I have a lot to talk about; then it’s getting back to basics. Pray that she will understand. Pray that I will, regardless, do as God leads to finish this “season” on a positive note.

Thanks, Marjorie. Pray for me. I’ll pray for you.

Love,
Brenda

The Magnet of the Church

Magnets are attractive, aren't they? They pique our curiosity by exuding a mysterious force and tugging irresistably at nearby objects and defying gravity itself.

“Unity is the magnet of the church.”

That statement from Sunday’s sermon deserves a closer look. Unity means a oneness in heart and purpose among diverse individuals. Among people from different backgrounds and interests and lifestyles. Among people like those who make up FAC. It's the love of Christ expressed in mutual regard for each other and in common commitment to the Father of us all.

Jesus prayed, just before going to Gethsemane, specifically for us – those who would someday believe through the message of the first disciples. “May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (Jn. 17:23 NIV).

So how are we doing at FAC with this thing called unity? It seems that, as a whole, we’re doing quite well, by the Spirit’s help. And may this continue by God’s grace. But in a church this size there are many “minichurches” –men’s and women’s ministries, small groups, Bible studies, outreach ministries., and many others. The parts make up the whole, and so the important consideration becomes, how is each individual “part” of FAC doing? Are we unified in each of those subgroups, together in spirit, one in purpose, fellowshipping in love? Or does any group experience division and discord, struggle for power, resistance to authority, animosity between personalities, failure to catch the same vision and pursue a common goal?

We’re each responsible for the answer to those questions. We’d each do well to ask ourselves: How is the group(s) I’m involved with doing? How am I doing as a part of those ministries? Am I in any way divisive? Do I refrain from comments that chip away at unity? Am I careful not to be critical? Do I resist taking my concerns to everyone but the one who has the right to know? Do I make allowances for the faults of others and use an oversized scoop to distribute mercy and encouragement among our group? Do I lay down my rights for the sake of others?

Unity in the church starts with the individual. It starts with the individual following the example of Christ in humility and servanthood, laying down privilege and preference for the sake of the group and the shared cause - and for the sake of those who do not know Him, who are on the outside looking in, and who will never be attracted to the "fellowship of believers" if there is no evident… fellowship. Above all, for the sake of the One who died for them, we must join together to exude the mysterious force of love that tugs at hardened hearts and defies the law of sin and death.

Our witness is at stake here, yes. But more than that, the attractiveness of Christ and his gospel, the tangible evidence of God’s love for sinners, even the future of the lost who pass by close to our doors, is at stake. Minichurches, are we unified?

Family Ties

My dad died shortly before I was married, and a few years later my mom moved out of the area. Although Dave and I intended to start a family, the years passed without children. Dave worked second shift, and as the long, solitary evenings rolled by, a kind of darkness settled into my heart… but I also discovered a wonderful truth during that time.

A new pastor and his wife moved into town and began to take some of us under their wing in rather unconventional ways. Soon Ollie ( an elderly widow in our small church) and I were regularly joining the pastor and his wife on those long evenings for lively games of Uno. What fun we had, forgetting disappointment and old age and church boards and all our various challenges, and just chortling (and cheating a bit!) together. Now, when I look back at those difficult years in my life, the memory is punctuated with the laughter and love we shared around a kitchen table. It perfectly illustrates the Psalmist’s words: “God sets the lonely in families” (PS. 68:6 NIV).

It seems to me that’s the way He intends the church, His body, to work in these days, too. Many of us did not have a mother to celebrate with last weekend, and will not have a father to send a card to in June, or children to cherish on Children’s Day. Yet what an friend once declared is surely true: “There are people in this church who are more like flesh-and-blood to me than some members of my own family.” The bond they shared with their fellow Christians was stronger. The Blood they shared was thicker. The Spirit affirmed that they were children of the Father, and therefore brothers and sisters of the closest order.

Jesus said, in some of His last words from the cross, “Woman, behold thy son,” and “Son, Behold your mother.” He was speaking to His mother, about to lose her precious son, and to His beloved disciple, John. And with those words He created a family bond where none had before existed, and began a healing in Mary and John’s hearts.

That’s what He wants to do in the church today, too. To set the lonely in families. To give spiritual mothers and fathers and children to those with empty arms and aching hearts, to those whose sun is setting each evening on days that were already dark.

What does that mean for you? I don’t know. Maybe you are an older woman and can become a mother to a younger wife and mom who is struggling. Maybe you are a single gal who can take a wriggling class of children into your heart and under your wing. Maybe you are a grandpa whose grandkids aren’t nearby, and there’s a teen or two who’d benefit by hanging out at your house.

But we can’t create family ties on our own. God sets the lonely in families – it is His arrangement and initiative. So let’s tell Him what we long for, and wait expectantly for Him.

And in response may the Lord look down on FAC and say, here and there, “Child, here is your mother in Christ. Young man, here is your father. Single person, here is your child, or your spiritual parents, or your sister in the Lord.” Your special next-of-kin in the family of God.

Tiny Offerings

I think the majority of us most easily identified with the little boy in Keith’s sermon Sunday. David, Samuel and Mary were big deals in the history of the chosen people, but few of us will dash off a fresh psalm of worship this week and ship it off to Janet to be sung by the choir on Sunday morning… or anoint the next President of the United States… or have a life-changing encounter with Gabriel. We don’t feel like we have those sorts of skill sets to offer or epic roles to play; we’ll leave those things to the kings, prophets, and heroines of history.

But a boy with a little lunch, now that’s us. Like Keith said, it doesn’t take a lot of talent to give your lunch to somebody. Especially when it was a lunch he probably didn’t earn or prepare. (The fish were likely snagged by dad’s net, the loaves baked by mom while her son danced, carefree, past the fire and off to play with friends).

What he had not earned and did not create, he merely received, then offered willingly to Jesus.

Or look at the widow at the temple (Mk. 12:41 ff).. It was near the beginning of Holy Week, and Jesus had just recently cleared the temple of moneychangers and merchandise. He had condemned; now He came back to commend. He sat and observed the morning tithes and offerings, noticing that the rich were throwing in large sums of money. Then he pointed out a solitary old woman who had, without fanfare, slipped two “mites,” the smallest coins of the day, into the treasury. It was all she had.

“Respect that contribution,” He advised His disciples. “She has put in more than all the rest.”

Jesus had great respect for the boy's lunch and the widow’s tiny contribution, and He has great respect for our tiny offering, too. He’s intending to do all sorts of wonderful, unexpected things with it – if we respect it enough to present it to Him.

We respect the treasure, time and talents we’ve been given when we…
 remember that the smallest things matter
 don’t belittle what we’ve been given
 don’t try to hype our resources, but accept them for what they are
 don’t wait to give til we have more
 give our all and best, holding nothing back for a more opportune time
 take godly pride in our contribution, considering it a privilege

Have any of us been holding back because our tiny offering seems so worthless, so pointless? Have we looked at our little resources and shrugged, “What are these among so many?” Until you and I respect the little lunch we’ve been given, we will not be glad to place it at Jesus’ disposal. We won’t see much multiplied or many fed. And we won’t respect the little lunches in anyone else’s hand, either.

Jesus delights in the small offering or, rather, the “all” offering, whatever size. He respects it. He uses it. Therefore, as Longfellow said, “Give what you have. To someone it might be better than you dare to think.” It will be better, for Jesus will take it, and break it, and multiply it in His way, for His glory.