EL’s Dribble

I was at my first of four weddings that I’ll be officiating this past weekend. It was in Tahoe and ahhh… I forgot how beautiful Lake Tahoe really is. I got to meet a lot of Gail and Hubert’s family and got to know hear some good stories.

I was talking with one of Gail’s cousins – a really interesting guy who works for a school-photography company [taking those semi-cheese stock school photos - the one we all had when we were in elementary school]. On first appearance he looked like one of those “I’m-passionate-about-art-and-design-but-I’m-always-misunderstood-so-I’ll-keep-a-harder-exterior-and-a-safe-distance-from-you” – I guess I judge people just like everyone else.

But it was easy to strike up a conversation and connection with him – of which couldn’t be said about most people these days. We talked about random things, including careers, photography, family, etc. And then I noticed that he had a tattoo on his wrist – so I asked him what that tattoo was. It looked like a bracelet tattooed around his wrist with the following word inscribed on the inside of the wrist:

It is pronounced “ASHER” which means “BLESSED” in Hebrew… I didn’t want to flex my amazing Hebrew on him [of which there wasn't much anyways]… frankly all I could do was pronouce it. Weak.

He shared that as he was growing up he was really hard on himself. He would hear people’s criticism and he’d take it really hard and be in depressive funks for weeks on end. A few years ago he went to the Philippines to visit family and came across a group of people who had far less than he had and yet weren’t suffering the same type of emotional funks. They were blessed… and it reminded him that he was blessed as well. And as he began to remember that God had indeed blessed him [I assume with the life, the skills, the job he has, etc.]… the depressive funks began to go away. He said he suffers very few of those funks these days.

He finished off his explanation with this – that at the end of the day [his words not mine, haha], God’s opinion of him was the only one that mattered. It was so encouraging… to hear someone understand in it’s simplest form, the essential message of Jesus. I don’t think he went to church or was particularly “religious” – whatever that means. But he understood… and because of this, he had a very genuine “sunny-disposition”… it wasn’t fake like many of us “professional” Christians. He was very thoughtful and you can tell he’s a thinker – but he didn’t look weighed down and had no problem sharing his story with some punk like me.

He knew he was blessed – but after our convo, I was the one who’s blessed.

I know that it was just Father’s Day, but I went through some old files and found an old post that I meant for Mother’s Day… so here goes:

It’s been a while since I’ve shed a tear for mom. But as cliché as it is, Mother’s Day still does it. And it’s a simple whisper to myself that I miss mom. That I miss her presence and her words of wisdom; she was the voice of reason for our family.

I thought recently of how the legacy of my mom lives strong in me. And that will automatically get passed on to my kids. There is so much of who she is that is alive in me. Her caring touch; her welcoming spirit. I’m not all like my mom, but she lives strongly in me. And I’m proud of that. And I’m proud that my kids will get to experience her in me.

I guess that’s really the picture of discipleship… and the picture of multiplication. I think about how mom never really got to see the fruits of her testimony, the impact her life has had on others. But we get to enjoy it and it gets passed to others. The others will never know who passed on the legacy to us… but they’ll get to experience it. And that’s the movement of God.

Mom, when I picture you, you’ve got this huge smile… the one that I always see first whenever I see you. You never fail to express in a multitude of ways that you’re just glad to see me and that you’re proud of me. Even that will do more for your grandkids than you’ll ever know. Thank you mom. I love you… Happy Mother’s Day mommy.

>> changed the title from “where does the bible talk about senior pastors?”

I remember being in seminary and a friend of mine came to me with a “huge” discovery. He said – I don’t see any where in the Bible that talks about churches needing a senior pastor. He pointed out that the early church communities functioned from a plurality of non-educated, regular Christian leaders and that we need to rethink how the church does leadership.

When he said that, I was flabbergasted. How dare he challenge the church. I couldn’t believe it – some young punk coming in and speaking against what generations of Christians have accepted. I remember a friend and I started throwing back rebuttals to his argument; of which none were biblical. We just couldn’t imagine a church without a singular pastoral head. In the end, I thought he was a loony. He can take his “infantile” ideas of church and start his own little commune.

Little did I know, I’d be taking my own advice. I’d even run with his premise and take it way further. Why was I so resistant? Here are a few reasons why:

• Threat – It threatened what I had believed in for so long and had never challenged. Because if he’s right, then I may be wrong [at least partially].
• Pride – I didn’t want to admit that he was on to something. If I gave credence to his question, I’d need to travel down the same road of questioning. And you never know where that’s going to lead.
• Fear – What’s going to happen to my master plan? My plan of getting lots of degrees and being a big shot? What if all I was trying to achieve is a waste of time? What do I tell the people who were paying my way?

I had to fight back. I had to… or else, I’d lose it all.

And in fact I did lose it all. God found a way to drive that nail of skepticism into my brain. I had to ask the questions I didn’t want to ask. I had to confront why I didn’t like asking them. I had to defend why I came to certain conclusions. And I realize that it was God’s way of helping me lose. Helping me lose it all… so that in turn I can gain something better. That seems to be a theme somewhere.

And now when I ask the hard questions to others and feel the push-back, I know the feeling. And when it’s coming from leaders who are supposedly more experienced and more knowledgeable than me… I don’t quite know how to respond. I can empathize… because they have way more to “lose” than I ever did. I’m 35… I don’t have 30 years of ministry life to reckon with.

But at the same time – I find myself assuming the elder brother role in the prodigal son narrative – and I judge. I judge the heck out of people. I wonder why they can’t see things the way the Bible so plainly states. I wonder why they are so defensive and inadvertently say things to put me down. I wonder why they are so obtuse – resistant to just asking the simple, unavoidable questions… just questions!

And then I remember myself… and how I shot down my friend and judged him for being so bold as to challenge the “church.” I want to judge some more and be angry… but I have not far to look but within myself to find the same crap that I’m so outraged by.

Lord, help me to forge ahead and yet have mercy on my friends/father-figures who may not quite see it yet.