I'll Be Somewhere Listening......

During the months of July and August I traveled around the Raleigh District, meeting with key leaders from the sixty churches. In those gatherings I asked the leaders to pair up with someone else and to list three qualities or characteristics of effective leaders. It may come as a surprise to some, but one of the qualities most often listed was.....listening.....

I'm not sure we think of leaders as those who demonstrate a high capacity for listening. Speaking? Well

that's more like it. We want our leaders - above all else -

to be articulate speakers. But what if we honored with equal gratitude articulate listeners?

In, The Silence of Jesus, James Breech recounts his experience of traveling to Princeton University to hear

W.H. Auden read some of his poetry. The lecture hall was packed with hundreds of people; all talking excitedly as they waited to see and hear the renowned laureate. Breech says that the old man dawdled his way onto the lecture stage, and then, with the help of a microphone, began to read. But his voice was soft, and the microphone was of no help.

Breech says that the people in the lecture hall began whispering to each other - even as Auden continued to read in inaudible fashion. The crowd began whispering to each other, trying to translate what they believed Auden to be saying. But the whispering soon became more audible than the old man's reading and the collective sound of it all drowned out Auden altogether.

What Breech learned in that lecture hall that night is captured in these words: "..if we want to hear what a speaker is saying while others are talking - even though they are trying to be helpful, their voices distract our attention and interfere with our listening. In order for the speaker's own voice to be heard, the go-betweens must be silent."

Barbara Brown Taylor comments on this statement with one of her own: "When the poet happens to be God, this advice takes on special significance." One of my favorite songs contains these lyrics.

When I was younger, I had a feeling.

I was so lonely....there was no one around.

When it got quiet...the feeling got stronger.

I fought the feelin'...I filled it with sound.

Then soon I found the truth....He'd been waitin' in line.

And when I saw him there....I knew he'd been there all the time.

We walked up to my wall of sound......and knocked it down!

And as the walls came down.....a new sound was all around.....

Now silence is music.......silence is music......

Silence is music.....He made my life....a song.........

Ron Moore

O Lord - give your grace to the go-betweens - so we may learn to be silent........

And Your Voice be heard........

Still In ONE Peace

Jon(the methodist)

Purpose

My friend and artist, Cheryl Harrison, created this image a number of years ago for the purpose of enhancing the worship space of a fledgling faith community through the gift of the visual arts. As pastor of that flock the image served to remind me that God has created each of us by intention with intention. This is not intended to be a mere play on words, but like the painting, a faith-statement.

To be created by intention is to believe that God is not the absentee clock-maker; not One who displays great creative prowess but holds no particular affection for the creation. To believe that God creates the ordered world, and human beings within that ordered existence, is to say something significant, about God and human beings. In short it is to believe that the intention behind the act of creation is good intention. It is to believe that God's ultimate purposes for the human family are at their heart rooted in an atmosphere of grace.

To be created with intention is to believe that God does not exist to serve our whims and wishes, but that we (humanity) exist for purposes that move well beyond self-serving. In short to be created with intention speaks of a Divine-human partnership, some might say a conspiracy, which transcends the empty quest for accumulating more, replacing this desire with purpose. Jesus speaks of this to his first followers when he says,

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and
bear fruit—fruit that will last. John 15:6a

Cheryl's painting reminds us of another passage when Jesus says to that same rag-tag band of on-again-off-again followers: "You are the light of the world." And later he says, "You are the salt of the earth." I can't help noticing that Jesus is using present tense language with the disciples. There's no hint of, "Well, one day - when you get your act together - then maybe, just maybe I will be ablde to refer to you as light without laughing about it." There is no whiff of Jesus saying, "If you keep at it - study hard - complete all your assignments then I'll see to it that you become like preserving, flavor-filled salt for an otherwise quickly-fading and spiceless creation." It's there - in black and white - Jesus said ARE, not MAY BE, NOW not sometime in the distant future.

So what's standing in the way of Jesus' declaration becoming reality? I'm afraid it may just be - ourselves. What keeps our lamps under bushels instead of visible and bright? What keeps us from bringing God's seasoning to the stew of life? The answer is somewhere in the mirror for me. The late Michael Jackson once crooned, "I'm looking at the man in the mirror.....If you want to make the world a better place take a look at yourself, and then make a change!" Have lyrics ever been so ironic? Surgery after surgery didn't change the essence of Michael Jackson. His song lyrics contain a message which just isn't true. Singing them to adoring fans didn't make the change happen.

Becoming salt and light takes more than gritting our teeth and pressing on with white-knuckled determination. The Scriptures declare that we find our purpose in relationship, not in tricks or even working a bit harder. Light??? Salt??? These are who we become as we embrace just Whose we are. And the world will never be the same...........Neither will we.

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(themethodist)

NOTE: The artwork featured in this particular blog is the property of Cheryl Harrison and only used with her permission. To explore more of Cheryl's creative visual artwork visit:

www.charrisonart.com

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

To see more of Cheryl's creative handiwork visit www.

Recharging Your Batteries?

In, The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch shares with the world the challenges and blessings of being a husband, parent, and professor while battling pancreatic cancer.

He offers the following insights that speak to me in simple, yet significant ways. If you are reading this, my prayer is that these words are life-giving to you.

"...the best caregiving advice we've ever heard comes from flight attendants: 'Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others'....there's nothing weak or selfish about taking some fraction of your day to be alone, recharging your batteries." pp. 200-201

Professor Pausch is on to something significant. I wonder how many times I've rushed off to rescue someone who was struggling to breathe without making sure I had an adequate supplyof oxygen myself ? The truth be known - way too many times. A friend of mine from Australia phrases it this way, "You don't need a pastor who can't waste away an hour with God on a regular basis!"

Last week clergy from across the Raleigh District gathered @ Camp Chestnut Ridge for a Day Apart. Many who participated have since commented that something about that day was life-giving. I really think it had very little to do with the agenda for the day, and quite a bit to do with the day being the agenda. We made ourselves available - at God's bidding - to God - and one another and God did all the rest.

Jesus made it a regular practice to come away from the crowds and even the inner circle of disciples to make himself available to God. I wonder what makes me think that I can somehow come up with a better model than this? Pastors often feel the weight of expectation imposed upon us. Those expectations often come from others, or even worse - from ourselves! My prayer for the flock to whom I belong is that we would grow more comfortable with solitude, and disciplined in regularly wasting away an hour with God.

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon(the methodist)

An Altitude Adjustment

So Wednesday we actually were given the gift of some free time. I've been blessed this week to join other recently appointed district superintendents from across the United States in a time of connecting and training. And one of our family resides outside the continental states - Bro James from Uganda on the continent of Africa.

But what I have found is that this has also been a time of inspiration - every bit as much as it has been equipping. Dr. Marcia McPhee has been our worship designer/leader each morning and that has been a treat too! To raise my voice in praise of the One God each morning with new-found-friends at the table is a gift as well. New friends from places like Fargo and Albuquerque, Fort Smith, Battle Creek , Beaumont and Thomasville.

Well, as I noted earlier - Wednesday afternoon was "free time"; nothing to learn, no schedule to keep - no "best practices" to try and absorb. So I took myself away from Junaluska for a few hours. The district Optima (that's actually my Kia four-door) aided part of my journey. On the way there was a serendipitous stop at a less-than-appealing convenience store where a conversation ensued with the elderly owner He became my spiritual director for the afternoon as he deployed me to the nearby Parkway, and to a place on the Parkway in particular: Water Rock Knob.

Armed only with my Diet Sundrop and an adventurous spirit, I returned to the car and soon found myself maneuvering the curves of the Blue Ridge. There were tempting vistas just outside the passenger side window, but the desire to live kept my white-knuckled hands firmly attached to the steering wheel. Soon I arrived at the destination described earlier by my spiritual director;a place he told me would reveal God's handiwork. The sign in the parking area noted the elevation at that point was a mere 6200 feet above sea level. Another sign noted my intended destination as being only a half-mile more........on foot! Water Rock Knob it was named.

So I huffed and I puffed, but by the time I arrived there were no houses to blow down. There were flowering plants and the almost deafening buzzing of bees - everywhere. Now I know where Raleigh's bee population has gone. They must be Methodist bees because they're all in the mountains in the summer! And then the place promised became the place experienced. As they say the climb was worth the agony.

Somewhere above 6200 ft the air was a bit more thin, or else I'm getting older. But from my vista I could see Maggie Valley and Cataloochee(sp) in the background. There, as promised I got a bird's-eye-view of God's handiwork. And there with God's brush strokes a parable of sorts unfolded for the plebe DS........The expanse of green living trees is evident - everywhere, but of course my eye was drawn to the one dead tree, which dominated the landscape from my perch at the time. As a forest ranger taught me years ago, when trees stop producing rings - they die. And yet, the faithful God - all the while - is busy multiplying a sea of green remnant. Lesson taken, Lord! Old Saint Francis was right. "It is in dieing that we are born to eternal life! Up and over and out.....

Jon(the Methodist)

The Results Of Your MRI Are In!

By now most of us have probably read or seen some kind of report about the woman from suburban Pittsburgh who says that the recent MRI she received at a local hospital looks quite a bit like the crucified Christ. Her own description of the image goes like this:

"You could actually see the hands. They look like they're nailed on the cross. You can see the body. It's in a straight line and then you see his feet, they look like they're together, and the knees are bent."

Admittedly, for many of us, this sort of thing is quick to dismiss, like the grilled cheese sandwich with Jesus' face on it, or a weeping statue of Mary. When asked if the image of Jesus has changed her life, she replied:

"I can't be swayed by a picture. My neck does feel better. I don't know if that was Jesus or physical therapy."

Maybe she has summed up what the Apostle Paul referred to when he said, "Great indeed is the mystery of our faith." Hopefully, we can differentiate physical therapy from Jesus. It's not that Jesus doesn't possess incredible abilities over the human body (see Matthew, Mark, Luke and John), but is that all Jesus does? Is he just the cosmic faith-healer, the teller who gives out blessings at the counter of God's Bank like toasters were once distributed to new customers at the Savings and Loan? Or is he much more?????

MRIs aren't just for people with bad backs. Leonard Sweet says that the Church of Jesus Christ needs and MRI; an infusion of the:

Missional.........Relational.........Incarnational........

spirit we witness in Jesus. While Jesus didn't believe that everything real could be seen, ("blessed are those who have not seen and yet, believe), he also noted that, ("a tree is known by its fruit.") So if God calls the Church into the examination room where MRIs are performed, what is going to show up on the imagery of the scan? Will it depict us as missional, relational, incarnational communities where faith is born and takes flight? Or will the test display us as fraudulent imposters, con artists adept at shaping the picture to appear the way we want others to see us, rather than an accurate depiction of who we are?

Way back in the last millennium the Raleigh District was blessed with a leader who happened to serve among us as a superintendent on his way to becoming a bishop. Some of you remember him well; a man with a dazzling smile and an an infectious laugh. His name was Dr. Joseph B. Bethea, known affectionately to many as "Joe". I remember how "Joe" moved among the churches of our district one year in particular during the Charge Conference season. The best way I can describe the way he carried himself is with the countenance of a wise and all-knowing Cheshire Cat. He would begin the Charge Conferences saying something like: "I am 'The Doctor' and I'm here to give you your annual check up!" He would pause for a few moments - then a smile would spread all the way across his face, soon thereafter followed by his trademark laugh, which filled the entire room.

The test results aren't yet received. The question remains to be answered:

Is Jesus showing up in our MRI????

Singer song-writer John Michael Talbot, posed this question in a similar way many years ago:

"As my lips so often speak the name of Jesus, will the canvass hold his image within me?"

By God's Grace....may it be so.

Jon(the methodist)

IT'S A BOY!

Like Abraham and Sarah we welcomed our new arrival on Tuesday of this week. None of the neighbors knew about this. If so, they probably would have erected one of those quirky wooden storks in our front yard like the astronauts who planted the American flag on the surface of the moon back in 69. This whole business caught us a bit by surprise. It only dates back to Pentecost Sunday of this year. My wife had done an excellent job keeping all of this a secret - at least from me.

We were nearing the benediction of our 3rd ever Spirit Fest celebration on the front lawn of Benson Memorial UMC when the Staff-Parish Relations Chair (Vicki) stepped up front to borrow the microphone. She said she had an important announcement to make. As her announcement unfolded various message-partners stepped up front, bearing gifts from afar. Well, maybe that's a bit too dramatic. There are places in NC where "gifts from afar" could just be the local volunteer firemen handing out tootsie rolls for a small donation in front of the Food Lion. Anyway, I digress.

The announcement culminated when my wife and daughters were asked to come up front and stand next to me. Then from the side wings another person came forward carrying a large piece of foam core (rectangular) with words printed across the face. That's when I discovered we were expecting for the first time. There's nothing like being surprised in front of 300+ friends who are hanging on your every word. There in front of God and everyone, beneath the shade of a massive water oak as old as Teddy Roosevelt, the news was delivered. I took a deep breath, and then I melted like a snow cone in an Arizona parking lot in July. I reverted to my M.O. and blubbered and sniffled in true Strother fashion.

So on Tuesday I brought our new arrival home. Mom is doing fine, and adjusting to living with a husband who now has another marvelous distraction, (as if I didn't already have enough). For 23 years humans of the female variety have ruled the roost in the Strother cave. Year after year, birth after birth, the doctors have always said the same thing in the delivery room: "Its a girl!" But Tuesday all that changed when I brought Taylor home for the first time. Now - finally - I have a sympathizer. Perhaps, just maybe the tide is about to turn.

So last night I found myself up late at night - singing softly to a new arrival while other members of the family rested quietly in their second-floor beds. I didn't mind this at all. Maybe it was the adrenalin of going through this unexpected parenthood for a fourth time. Or perhaps I was enjoying the time alone with our new bundle of joy. Eventually I tucked Taylor in and made my way upstairs to join the rest of my slumbering familia. Life is good..... Oh, for those who are interested....take a look at our new symphonic miracle.......Taylor Strother......

Still In ONE Peace,

Jon (the methodist)

Who Are You Hitched To?

The other day on my way to work I saw something I'd never noticed before. Heading toward the office in the ITB (that’s inside the beltline for non-Raleigh-ites) traveling on Downtown Blvd, I noticed this string of cabooses linked one to the other on a hill behind some warehouses. Is the plural of caboose actually cabooses or is it caboosi? Well I skipped the Wade Ave exit ( the Methodist Building is close by) and drove to the next exit at Peace St. Then I did a 180 and got back on Capital and restarted my quest to find the mysterious train cars.

Suddenly they reappeared, so I drove around behind a warehouse, parked the car and got out @ the end of a deserted railroad track. I walked the abandoned track until I was close enough to snap a picture with my blackberry. In total, eight cars were there – resting quietly. They were joined together - all the same kind of train car, with no engine in sight. I was all alone. Weeds and kudzu were my only witnesses other than God.

As I was snapping the photos I heard the rumbling of train engines coming from another parallel track behind me - just beyond the trees. The whole thing seemed/seems surreal and parabolic now that I pause to reflect. A string of mobile resting places linked together on a track amputated from the mainline without the needed power to go anywhere.

And so it is for all who attempt to experience LIFE apart from Christ. As Jesus reminded us almost 2K previous, “I am the vine…You are the branches….Apart from me you can do nothing.” Life without Christ at the center is akin to linking oneself to a string of train cars, none of which is empowered to go anywhere. It makes me stop and wonder, Am I intentionally staying connected to the Engine and traveling where the open tracks lead? Or am I prone to hitch to any old box car and content to waste away on the deserted side-tracks which are so prevalent. Who knows? This may have been a burning bush, well burning caboose……..

In Christ.
Jon(the Methodist)