Revitalize Your Church

“One of the great things about being a pastor is that you have these people stagger in, not every day but on some days, and they have just been plodding along in life, minding their own business, keeping their head down, plowing the same furrow, not expecting, not even wanting conversion, and somehow, God reaches in, grabs them by the neck, shakes them up and down, and they, despite themselves, are different.” (Will Willimon, Wild Journeying, “Suddenly a Light from Heaven”, in A Peculiar Prophet, p. 97).

In honor of Ash Wednesday, I'm re-posting the following story from my first book, Filled Up, Poured Out:  How God's Spirit Can Revive Your Passion and Purpose. Northern Wisconsin is Lutheran and Catholic territory, and this means two things: Lutefisk before Christmas, and Lent before Easter. I didn’t know much about either growing up. Until moving to Hayward, I had never heard of Lutefisk, and figured Lent was stuff you trap in the dryer. Living in the Northwoods, I’ve discovered that Lutefisk is a piece of cod that passes all understanding. (Actually, it’s a rather unappetizing, gelatinous Nordic dish made from dried, salted whitefish and lye.) We’ll let the Lutherans keep it. Lent, however, is something we’ve happily pilfered from our more liturgical brethren. We start with Ash Wednesday, forty days before Easter. I smudge ashes on the foreheads of willing (and some not-so-willing) parishioners, repeating, “From dust you’ve come, to dust you shall return.” For a f

On Sunday morning, the preacher stands behind the pulpit and looks out upon a group of people who think they are Methodists.  In reality, a lot of them are Shintos, who are worshipping their dead ancestors buried in the adjacent cemetery. Some are radical Muslims, who believe every interpretation of their favorite preacher is dictated by God Almighty. Others are Buddhist who have to come to church to escape reality. Then, there are those who are just plain pagans that believe the purpose of religion is to get the gods to do something nice for them. (Paraphrasing from Will Willimon;s sermon, "Resident Aliens", in A Peculiar Prophet ) . Photo credit: Juicy Ecumenism,  https://juicyecumenism.com/2014/09/24/another-year-of-decline-for-u-s-united-methodists/ .

John Wesley was only five years old when he was literally saved from a burning building. The fire nearly caused Wesley his life, but by God's grace, he was rescued from an upstairs window seconds before the building collapsed. Throughout his life, Wesley often referred to himself as "brand plucked from the fire". God surely had plans for John Wesley who eventually went into the ministry.  Another kind of “fire” strangely warmed Wesley's heart and consumed his life, sparking the fire of a great spiritual awakening that spread throughout the entire world.  This fire from God could not be quenched and came with a zeal that nothing could contain. He spread the gospel throughout the land just as a wildfire consumes a forest.  Set ablaze for God, Wesley knew he could not just “live off of the smoke” but needed to keep the fire of holiness burning in his heart.  John Wesley was a man on a mission from God who had no other desire but to spread scriptural holine

Whenever Valentines Day comes around, I think about the day Cathy said "I do" back in ’82.  She was abeautiful bride, bold and confident. When it was my turn to say the vows, I blubbered and squeaked like Mickey Mouse – but she knew what I meant anyway.  It’s hard to imagine that so many years have zoomed by. It seems like just yesterday that I was courting her – dating her – writing little valentines with x’s and o’s at the end, and saying goofy things like “yours, ‘til the ocean wears rubber pants to keep it’s bottom dry.” We’ve done a lot of living since then. We have had our share of joys. We have shed our share tears. We have had our share of heartaches through the years – but as our love has matured, it has grown stronger and sweeter. A while back, Cathy made an astute observation: “You can’t really love somebody until you’ve been through something with them. Before that point, you’re just acquaintances.” Maybe that’s why I love her so much – because we’ve b

New every morning is the love our wakening and uprising prove; through sleep and darkness safely brought, restored to life and power and thought. New mercies, each returning day, hover around us while we pray; new perils past, new sins forgiven, new thoughts of God, new hopes of heaven. If on our daily course our mind be set to hallow all we find, new treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice. The trivial round, the common task, will furnish all we ought to ask: room to deny ourselves; a road to bring us daily nearer God. -- Ambrose, Bishop of Milan (340-397), Translated by John Chandler (1837)