MAZ '24 and the Art of Retrospection

 

Mission Arizona 2024 (MAZ ’24) finished up on Saturday, March 23, 2024 when the last student drove out of the church parking lot with their parents. That’s not exactly true – there were vans to wash and gas up, finances to balance and reimbursements to process, bins of materials and equipment to sort and store, reports to write to Session, a debriefing of the leadership team to complete, and plan and execute the Shareholder’s Meeting. All those things are necessary but they tend to put the mission itself so far in the rearview mirror as to make things hazy for me. I regret not putting some on hold to practice the art of retrospection and write.

I find it strange that a trip of this sort which loomed so large in the weeks and months leading up to it could grow dim in such a hurry. I got so focused on the mission that responsibilities I have at home got wonky. My taxes are getting done late, my bills got done just this side of delinquent, personal communications suffered, other committee work is behind, writing projects are all but forgotten, and work needed on my home is languishing. This should not happen, should it? I am an old pro with more than twenty mission trips on my resume and this should not happen.

I lost myself somewhere along the way. It was seven or eight years between Mission Arizonas for me and I forgot who I am or was in relation to youth missions. So much happened in between – the Youth Ministries department moved on to Mexico for missions. I was not called to but supported them with fundraising. We didn’t end our involvement with my friends at Vah Ki Presbyterian Church on the Gila River Indian Reservations very well. The pandemic hit a couple of years later and no mission work took place for Youth Ministries. My parents passed away a mere ten weeks apart from each other and I still find grief at my doorstep. Our longtime pastors announced their intentions to leave the church and I answered the call to serve on the Pastor Nominating Committee, a two-year task to find a new identity as a church, fitting in raggedly with my personal search. I turned 70. It wasn’t so much forgetting who I was as becoming someone different or rather, someone with a different mix of skills, priorities, and hopes. The Potter has had this lump of clay back on the wheel of life and I feel like a let myself get dizzy.

My friend Webster talks about retrospection as “the act or process or an instance of surveying the past”. I’d like him to change one word – art for ‘act’. There is art to retrospection. As with any art form, retrospection must be practiced for it to be done well. Again, as with any art form, beauty and worth are in the eye of the beholder.

MAZ ’24 was a reawakening of the spirit of missions for our youth and our church. No, MAZ ’24 was another instance in the reawakening to our mission. I witnessed the proof of this in the response to our fundraising which came in stronger than anticipated, more widespread than I thought would take place, and with a joy of giving that filled my heart. Several investors in our mission told me, “If you need more, just let me know.”

Our youth group is growing as we emerge from pandemic lows and transitions in directors. The growth is coming from outside the church family with teenaged students searching for a place to belong. None of the seven students on our little team had been on a MAZ. Those parents who are not church members have a limited vision of the church and our mission trip. Consequently, our mission leadership team came mostly from folks without kids on the trip, and most of them had not been on a MAZ before either. They are impressive!

I needed to find my grove with the team and it took me a while, several days into the trip, in fact. And even then, I had to refine how to manifest this MAZ Jerry, only a couple of the leaders had experience with me as Jer Bear and driving the timeline pushing the events of each day. I hope to have it better defined for MAZ ’25. Reinventing myself at 70 or finding the shape that the Potter requires of me now, is no easy task. I am in His grip.

MAZ ’24 by the numbers: Seven students, the oldest was 15 and the youngest a 7-year-old. Eight leaders with Josh Kaufmann (Chief Project Manager), Paul Hoffman (Photographer/whatever we needed guy), and me (Wrangler) as the only veterans, then Mandy Cary (Chief Cook), Izzy Cox (Youth Director), Loraien Bentum (Izzy’s Fiancé and ministry partner), Nicole and Chris Elms (Head Parental Units, mixer operator). The Elms clan rose to every challenge. Nicole and Chris poured themselves into whatever came their way, they adapted, they overcame.

Josh and Mandy started two days early to set up base camp and prepare the way for our work. They ran a new water line, repaired two faucets, and did some grading to get us within reach of our goal with our student-teams. We poured 155 feet of 5-foot-wide walkway at Stotonic Presbyterian Church, repaired another serious water leak that threatened our ability to mix concrete, and then neatened up the church campus. At Vah Ki Pres, the team repaired two walkways that had been cut for plumbing repairs, Josh and Paul built a form and raised a new church sign, Nicole and Mandy cleaned up the Ira Hayes Memorial, and Paul effected several maintenance repairs. I have left some things out. My bad.

Team MAZ '24 with new sign

The Kids from left Adam, Leeland, Jane,
 Sarah, Blythe, Dylan and in front - Brynn

    

Our traditional autograph...

MAZ ’24 by the Spirit: We overcame resistance to our mission that showed itself a hit-and-run car accident on the way out when a road-racer sideswiped our #2 van into a car in the other lane and the water issues at Stotonic could have stopped us in our tracks. I am thankful beyond measure that no one was injured and that the van was drivable even with the sliding door that was inoperable, though the incessant chiming of the open-door alarm when encountering bumps in the road made me a bit crazier. Note: reservations have a lot of dirt roads and Arizona’s vaunted highway system is in disarray when it comes to Highway 10 and every bounce was broadcast to the driver.

Team MAZ ’24 was staffed by five adult leaders and seven students who had never been. They rose to the occasion in splendid style. Each of the first two mornings started slowly but by the afternoons concrete was laid down in spectacular fashion. These suburban kids figured out how to reach down into their personal reserves to complete a rigorous work regimen. And they loved it. And they’ll come back. And they will tell others. The students’ morning and evening devotions and affirmations were rich and filled with insight and love. This is where I really found my mission self.

One of my highest priorities was to reconnect with friends on the reservation and be able to observe how they received our team and how well we opened our hearts to the people we were sent to serve. Harold and Wallace, our on-site contacts, have always been appreciative. Harold from Stotonic was overwhelmed by the walkway as he spoke to us about being able to move about the campus for worship and fellowship meetings. The Indian frybread dinner the people hosted for us was wonderful. Our kids connected with the young children running around and the leaders from both churches fellowshipped as though they were old friends. My favorite scene for these nights is when our students and leaders learn to make frybread. It takes our crew longer and the shapes of the breads are comical but the laughter and joy of the ladies teaching and the kids learning is genuine and irreplaceable.

Finally, we had a couple of never-before-seen experiences. I saw a javelina that was rousted by dogs from a vacant lot between two houses across the way. It ran on by and off into the desert. The folks at one of the houses jumped into a pickup truck to give chase and asked, ‘where that pig go?’ as they drove by. I pointed them off across the basketball court and into the open desert. There was an unconfirmed thought that the javelina may have been their own ‘pig.’ The night after the sighting, a rider on horseback, complete with his riata at the ready, rode through camp. We assume he was hunting the javelina with his trusty dog trotting alongside. It was a surreal scene as we sat around our campfire making s’mores.  

Our Javelina, aka 'that pig'

God willing, I will go back for I am always in His grip,

Jerry White

MAZ ’24 Wrangler 

Répondez s'il vous plaît - RSVP

 

The Apostle Paul tells us in Philippians 4:6-7 - “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

In the preamble to Prayer, Finding the Heart’s True Home, Richard J. Foster gives us a glimpse into the heart of God, “He aches over our distance and preoccupation. He mourns that we do not draw near to him. He grieves that we have forgotten him… He longs for our presence.” I am often too absorbed with busyness, accomplishing the next thing, doing something – anything – and then rewarding myself with some downtime, you know, like watching TV or burying my face in my phone. Too busy to spend time in his presence, talking to him, loving him.

Foster goes on to tell us, “And he is inviting you – and me – to come home, to come home to where we belong. To come home to that for which we were created. His arms are stretched out wide to receive us. His heart is enlarged to take us in.”

We receive invitations all the time for birthdays, weddings, baby and wedding showers, poker games. There is generally an RSVP request with contact information toward the bottom of the invitation. RSVP are the initials for the French phase, ‘Répondez s'il vous plaît’, basically meaning to please respond. The literal translation is ‘Respond, if it pleases you.’

Sometimes I get the sense that the host is begging me, “Please tell me you are coming.” “Please, please contact me at 555-555-5555 or by email at lovemybaby@rsvp.com or using the self-addressed stamped envelope.” They seem desperate for my attendance and are anxious to know if I am coming so they can prepare the house for me, have my favorite drink ready, and to make sure that I am comfortable and relaxed. I believe God wants our RSVP for all those things. Though it is more a longing than a begging.

How should I respond to God’s invitation? What is his chosen method for the RSVP? I need to respond with an open heart to Jesus Christ, his chosen contact and use the Holy Spirit to transmit my acceptance to join him. God’s invitation is not a ‘Regrets Only’ RSVP. If he doesn’t hear from me, he assumes I will not be joining him. If he hears from Me, I’ve already accepted his invitation.

It is important to allow time in a corporate worship service for each person to connect with God in prayer, to touch the hem of his garment in a way that allows power to go from Jesus to the believer. I believe this should be early in the service so that corporate worship and singing flows from a place of personal contact. We need the opportunity to RSVP before we jump into the party, otherwise we are just a part of the din trying to harmonize.

I listen for the invitation from time to time. Most often it is during walks, hikes, bicycle pedals, motorcycle rides, or floats when I have some solitude and I’m away from the requirements of social interaction. There is a meditation technique where I envision myself walking along until I find what I'm looking for. I have two such walks that are effective for me in my prayer/mediation life, such as it is. In one, I picture myself hiking in the Sierras, most times I am wending my way through the forest until I find myself hiking along a rushing stream tumbling down the hillside to spread itself through a meadow and into an alpine lake. At some point, I see myself walking with Jesus, talking as to a friend.

There are times that my meditation takes me up a set of switchbacks to a mountain pass where I hope to find the stream leading from the snowpack to the lake on the other side of the pass. When I find myself on this trail, I often come across a rockslide blocking the trail and I need to clear the rocks, some being large boulders. It is hard work to clear the path and I often fail at it. When this happens, my hope is that my work to clear the path has been an effective RSVP and that he will meet me in my labors.

Jesus himself, being fully God and fully human, shows us the need for prayer to connect to God and he practices the art to show us the way. Luke 6:12 tells us “In these days he went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God.” This is how Jesus prepared himself to deliver the Sermon on the Mount and gave us the beatitudes. Should we do any different to prepare us for our day?

Don’t forget to RSVP.

In His grip,

Jerry

Author’s note: After writing my first draft for this post, I went on a bicycle ride. I found it nearly impossible to hear the invitation or to make any meaningful connection. Even riding around the Rose Bowl and Brookside Golf courses where it is a relatively safe place to ride, there are too many things to think about – other cyclists, joggers in the roadway rather than in the pedestrian lane, cars, or golfers crossing the road between holes that feel no need to stop and look. Maybe I’ll get to the point where the pedaling is second nature and hearing and responding to the invitation is first nature…

Build It...

 

MAZ 2015 - Building a Vatu at Stotonic

Preface: Pastor Mouris is leading a community Bible study at La Crescenta Presbyterian Church on Tuesdays from 11 to Noon and is taking us through the book of Nehemiah. I’ve just finished the first paragraph of this post and now have no idea where it will take me. I thought it was to be about the difference between a ‘joiner’ and a ‘builder’. God is great.

Nehemiah was a builder. That much is well documented in the Old Testament book written by him. The book answers the 5 W’s and one H questions. Who? What? When? Where? Why? How? The ‘who’ is Nehemiah and a remnant of the exiles of Israel out of Persia. The ‘what’ is that the wall of Jerusalem is rebuilt. The ‘when’ was around 445BC, a little more than 100 years after the first wave of Israelites had returned to Jerusalem with permission from King Cyrus. The ‘where’ is the Kingdom of Judah’s capital, Jerusalem. I’ll address the ‘why’ below. The ‘how’ might be better covered in a post all its own but, for the purpose of this post let’s say by prayer, commitment to a vision, and by grace.

The question as to why is taking me places I hadn’t thought to go. Like my questions to my parents, my children of me, and now even my grandchildren, ‘why’ can be asked until we drill down to the depths of motivation. I could offer the simple answer, “because God told him to”, and to the question, “Why did God tell him to?” I would have to say, “God only knows”. I feel like that would be cheating so I’ll drill down a little bit.

There was no earthly reason for Nehemiah to uproot himself from Persia and go to a city in ruins to build a wall that the residents and previously freed exiles did not want. He was cupbearer to King Artaxerxes and had the complete trust of the king who would eat or drink anything handed to him by Nehemiah. Nehemiah lived in the palace, had everything he could want – food and shelter fit for a king. Why then, did he go?

Nehemiah was a godly man, given to prayer and fasting, and obedient to God’s Will. He heard a report from his brother Hanani upon Hanani’s return from Jerusalem and the province. The people who had returned there from exile ‘are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire.” (Neh. 1:3) Nehemiah sat down and wept. He couldn’t stand the thought of God’s people being in trouble or in disgrace and he went into a time of mourning, fasting, and prayer. (Neh. 1:4)

His prayers were full and complete. Nehemiah went to God with supplication for his people and confession of his and their sins. He reminded God of His Word while interceding for the people of Israel. His period of mourning carried over to his job, which was to hand the King the cup, untainted with poison. The king asked Nehemiah why his face looked so sad even though he was not ill. Nehemiah tells us that he was very much afraid but told the king he was sad because he could not be happy knowing his ancestral city was in ruins and the gates burned. (Neh. 2:2-3)

I love this part and want this in my life – when the king asked he what he wanted Nehemiah tells us that, “Then I prayed to the God of heaven, and I answered the king, ‘If it pleases the king, and if your servant has found favor in his sight, let him send me to the city in Judah where my fathers are buried sot that I can rebuild it.” (Neh. 2:5) That is Nehemiah’s secret. He is such a prayerful soul that he can pray and offer a response to the king in the same breath. I want that.

I’ll recap what I believe is the answer to why Nehemiah went to rebuild the wall. He was a godly man. He prayed often and deeply. He fasted and as part of his spiritual discipline and waited on God and listened for replies. He was obedient. Obedient to the point of giving up the prime position on the king’s staff. In this case, the ‘how’ was intertwined with the ‘why’. Because of these things, Nehemiah had taken on aspects of God, namely God the Creator. Nehemiah had it in him to create, to build. And that’s what he did.

I’ve been asking myself while writing this, ‘Why am I writing it? What does it have to do with my life? How will it affect me or rather, how will I use this to affect change?’ There is something in me that is broken down and in disgrace, something missing that needs to be rebuilt, a wall broken down and letting things best locked out in, or a gate is broken that won’t allow people in that need to be there. I pray that I am being obedient to His voice in this – I have missed doing mission work and service with young people and in response we have restarted Mission Arizona. There is something more, something deeper than this, I know. I also know that it will come to me as I pursue obedience, just as Jesus has done for me or to me, year over year.

I encourage you to pray and seek God to find the wall that is broken in you, the gate you need working to let Him in.

I am in His grip, always.

Jerry

Finish Well

 

Whatever your event, finish well.

Hebrews 12: 1-2a: ¹Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. ^2aLet us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (an alternative fuel source if ever there was one).

In track and field, a bell-lap is the last lap of a race during which a bell is rung to signify the start of the final lap. Bell-laps are typically used on longer races on oval tracks, 1500 meters or 1 mile and longer. Gun-lap is another term and method and is defined by my friend Webster as, “the final lap of a race in track signaled by the firing of a gun as the leader begins the lap.” In auto racing, a white flag is waved at each racer as they cross the start/finish line for their final lap. At Golden Gate Porsche Club driver education weekends, the track Starter (or the preferred King God Flag Guy) points at each driver with the index finger and then down to the track as they enter the last lap of their run.

Using some crude math and a 1-Mile race in my analogy, I am in the Gun Lap. My parents passed away just shy of 90-years old, I’m just shy of 70 which is .77777 percent of their ages which puts me in lap four of a four-lap race. The gun has sounded, the bell has wrung, and the King God Flag Guy has pointed to me and the track letting me know I need to finish strong. The whisperings of the Holy Spirit confirm it.

If life is a marathon, and mine has been anything but a sprint, I have either come through the wall or am about to. ‘The Wall’ in long distance running is a point where the body’s glycogen stores have been depleted and the body no longer has the fuel to continue running. One source puts the wall at about 18.64 miles and another simply says, ‘around the 20-mile mark’. Using my .77777 percent figure, I would be at 20.3574 miles in my marathon. There are days I slog through and others are over before I’ve done a lick. I need to find an alternative fuel source if I want to finish my marathon well.

Years ago, maybe a lifetime gone by, my dad gave me a copy of the book, Finishing Well by Bob Buford. The men’s group Dad met with in Grants Pass, Oregon was going through the book and he wanted me to keep pace with them. If I was there on a Thursday during a visit, I would go with him. Good men all around the table. I’ve regretted not keeping pace and engaging with him through this study and have begun reading it on my own to get myself back in the race.

What do I mean when I say, “finish well”? Ken Blanchard, Coauthor of The Servant Leader and The One Minute Manager, wrote the forward to Buford’s book. In his forward, he talks about asking people, “Would you like the world to be a better place for your having been here?” “What’s your plan?” Goodness yes. As a Christian, oh God yes but what does this mean? I imagine that a large portion of finishing well is finding and doing the Will of the Father. On September 6, 2022, I published a post entitled Off the Bench. That was the start of me finding my answer to what finishing well means.

Oval Track Layout

There is a problem with all my math and analogies – I don’t know and can’t know where I am is this last lap. Look at the diagram above. Have I just entered the Clubhouse Turn? Am I coming out at the ¾ Pole? Am I cruising the backstretch, diving into the Far Turn, or making my last sprint down the Homestretch? How do I know if I have even one stride left?

James 4: 13-15: ¹³Now Listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” ¹⁴Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. ¹⁵Intead, you ought to say, “if it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”

My first step in finishing well is to determine to do so. This is followed closely by figuring out what it will look like for me. Have I hit the wall? If so, I must find the supernatural source of energy to replace everything I’ve exhausted. I must fix my eyes on Jesus who is not only the author and perfector of my faith but is the tape at the finish line. To finish well I need to exhaust everything that is me, there is no need for it once the finish line is crossed.

One of the greatest depictions of finishing well is a scene from Chariots of Fire. Eric Liddell, played by Ian Charleson, is running “to the Glory of God” and has trained for the 100-meter sprint but must withdraw because of the race is being held on a Sunday, the Lord’s Day. He was given a spot in the 400-meter race, a much longer race by far and demands pacing. In the Clubhouse Turn he is knocked to the ground but gets up to finish and win the race. Upon hitting the tape, he collapses and eventually must be carried off the field by friends. This is finishing well. If you’ve a mind to, catch the YouTube clip from the link below.

Get up and finish the race from Chariots of Fire : get up and finish the race.avi - YouTube

Can I get up when knocked down and how then can I truly finish well? By doing my very best to make every stride glorify God, take every breath in the knowledge that Jesus has authored the finish.

Go now, train for your race, practice finishing well each day.

In His grip,

jerry

Gun Lap

 

In track and field, a bell-lap is the last lap of a race during which a bell is rung to signify the start of the final lap. Bell-laps are typically used on longer races on oval tracks, 1500 meters or 1 mile and longer. Gun-lap is another term and method and is defined by my friend Webster as, “the final lap of a race in track signaled by the firing of a gun as the leader begins the lap.” In auto racing, a white flag is waved at each racer as they cross the start/finish line for their final lap. At Golden Gate Porsche Club driver education weekends, the track Starter (or the preferred King God Flag Guy) points at each driver with the index finger and then down to the track as they enter the last lap of their run.

Using some crude math and a 1-Mile race in my analogy, I am in the Gun Lap. My parents passed away just shy of 90-years old, I’m just shy of 70 which is .77777 percent of their ages which puts me in lap four of a four-lap race. The gun has sounded, the bell has wrung, and the King God Flag Guy has pointed to me and the track letting me know I need to finish strong. The whisperings of the Holy Spirit confirm it.

If life is a marathon, and mine has been anything but a sprint, I have either come through the wall or am about to. ‘The Wall’ in long distance running is a point where the body’s glycogen stores have been depleted and the body no longer has the fuel to continue running. One source puts the wall at about 18.64 miles and another simply says, ‘around the 20-mile mark’. Using my .77777 percent figure, I would be at 20.3574 miles in my marathon. There are days I slog through and others are over before I’ve done a lick. I need to find an alternative fuel source if I want to finish my marathon well.

Hebrews 12: 1-2a: ¹Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. ^2aLet us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith (an alternative fuel source if ever there was one).

Years ago, maybe a lifetime gone by, my dad gave me a copy of the book, Finishing Well by Bob Buford. The men’s group Dad met with in Grants Pass, Oregon was going through the book and he wanted me to keep pace with them. If I was there on a Thursday during a visit, I would go with him. Good men all around the table. I’ve regretted not keeping pace and engaging with him through this study and have begun reading it on my own to get myself back in the race.

What do I mean when I say, “finish well”? Ken Blanchard, Coauthor of The Servant Leader and The One Minute Manager, wrote the forward to Buford’s book. In his forward, he talks about asking people, “Would you like the world to be a better place for your having been here?” “What’s your plan?” Goodness yes. As a Christian, oh God yes but what does this mean? I imagine that a large portion of finishing well is finding and doing the Will of the Father. On September 6, 2022, I published a post entitled Off the Bench. That was the start of me finding my answer to what finishing well means.

1/4 Mile Track Layout

There is a problem with all my math and analogies – I don’t know and can’t know where I am is this last lap. Look at the diagram above. Have I just entered the Clubhouse Turn? Am I coming out at the ¾ Pole? Am I cruising the backstretch, diving into the Far Turn, or making my last sprint down the Homestretch? How do I know if I have even one stride left?

James 4: 13-15: ¹³Now Listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” ¹⁴Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. ¹⁵Intead, you ought to say, “if it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.”

My first step in finishing well is to determine to do so. This is followed closely by figuring out what it will look like for me. Have I hit the wall? If so, I must find the supernatural source of energy to replace everything I’ve exhausted. I must fix my eyes on Jesus who is not only the author and perfector of my faith but is the tape at the finish line. To finish well I need to exhaust everything that is me, there is no need for it once the finish line is crossed.

One of the greatest depictions of finishing well is a scene from Chariots of Fire. Eric Liddell, played by Ian Charleson, is running “to the Glory of God” and has trained for the 100-meter sprint but must withdraw because of the race is being held on a Sunday, the Lord’s Day. He was given a spot in the 400-meter race, a much longer race by far and demands pacing. In the Clubhouse Turn he is knocked to the ground but gets up to finish and win the race. Upon hitting the tape, he collapses and eventually must be carried off the field by friends. This is finishing well. If you’ve a mind to, catch the YouTube clip from the link below.

Get up and finish the race from Chariots of Fire: Get up and finish the race 

Can I get up when knocked down and how then can I truly finish well? By doing my very best to make every stride glorify God, take every breath in the knowledge that Jesus has authored the finish.

Go now, train for your race, practice finishing well each day.

In His grip,

jerry

Psst...Trust Me

  

She'll run like a charm, trust me.

Psst…Trust Me

Early in 2021, I was one of nine individuals who were asked and accepted a nomination to be elected to a select committee of the La Crescenta Presbyterian Church, our home church. We were elected unanimously by the congregation without receiving nominations from the floor, volunteers from those present, and without debate. Apparently, no one else was clamoring to be on the Pastor Nominating Committee (PNC) charged with finding the replacement for our longtime and beloved pastor who had announced his and his wife’s intention to move on to a new call, this one in the missionary field, a place where their hearts lay as well as the heart of the congregation.

NCAA Basketball fans will get this analogy without blinking and most will understand it. Imagine taking over for Coach John Wooden (Wizard of Westwood) upon his retirement as the UCLA Men’s Basketball coach. It took Coach Wooden several years to build his program to the point where they won 10 NCAA championships over a 12-year period, with a string of seven in a row. Only one other college program has more than seven in their history - Kentucky has eight over a 64-year period. How do you follow an act like that? How do you find a person to establish a culture of excellence of their own when expectations run so high? No wonder we didn’t have a line out the door of smiling people eager for the task of finding the next pastor.

I should not have said yes. My parents had passed away ten weeks apart only two or three months previous, I was steeped in managing their estate based in Oregon, and due to the pandemic, hadn’t been able to mourn properly or celebrate their life with family and friends, and I was a wreck. I had no right to nod my head and accept this blessing but God was at work and I desperately needed to see His hand in action, to be met by Him in ways as he so often has over my life. I cannot say that I did not look back once I put my hand to the plow (see Luke 9:62). I was days away from bowing out but knew one of us needed to exit the task more than I as her husband was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. Even though I knew I was not fit for this service, I knew this – that God’s Grace is sufficient.

In somewhat typical fashion for our church, we didn’t go strictly by the book for this process. If you know much about Presbyterians, you should know we have a book for anything we do. Our outgoing pastor stayed on in an interim capacity while the search went on and our committee was tasked to complete our Mission Information Form (MIF) which is typically done by a separate and specific committee before handing the work over to the PNC.

I struggled here to find the right word for our task, to call it a journey is to belittle what we went through. Journeys are simply defined as ‘A going from one place to another usually of some distance’. I had to scroll down the list of related words my friend Webster was giving me and rejected hop, jaunt, cruise, walkabout to settle on quest, closely followed by odyssey, hike, slog and tramp. We did all those things in our search for the person called by God from time immemorial to be our next pastor.

Make no mistake about this, we knew what we were called to and what was placed in our hands – a Sacred Trust. To a person, we approached our job as a Sacred Trust, entrusted by our congregation to find someone to lead us, guide us deeper into discipleship, closer to Jesus and we were trusted by Jesus to find his Will. We opened every meeting (at least weekly for two years plus interviews and special weekends) with scripture and prayer. Each of us committed ourselves to prayer and fasting in our own fashion. We slogged, trodged (sic), and waded our way through close to 100 Pastor Information Forms (PIFs), dozens of interviews, four neutral pulpit weekends, two, yes two invitations to the call, and one Candidating Weekend that culminated in the vote of the congregation with the landslide ‘Yes’ result. Praise God!

As an aside, let me ask you a quick rhetorical question here, would you have clicked on the link if I correctly named this post A Sacred Trust? Or would you have read this far? Rhetoric aside, we all have a sacred trust to complete.

We laughed, cried, cajoled, rolled our eyes, and wondered at God’s wisdom to put us in such a place. We were humbled by the enormity of the task, heartened by the quality of men and women we interviewed, and amazed at the wisdom of each of the other people on our committee. We were likely sacrilegious from time to time. My suggestion to use my ‘Daily Decision’ app to make the choice from our short list comes to mind. Hey, the 11 Apostles cast lots to find Judas’ replacement, didn’t they? And they’d been in Jesus’ presence for three and half years. Fortunately, nobody took me seriously.

Even with all that going on, the Sacred Trust and Task proceeded as God willed. My choice of the photo I used to draw you in is apt. We were not looking for a shiny new pastor right off the Seminary showroom floor. We knew, or at least trusted, that the used model wouldn’t be a clunker nobody else wanted. The reality is, we didn’t know what make or model we would find or how many miles they had traveled. We placed our own sacred trust in God chiming our spiritual bells and letting us know which one to call.

Our congregation showed us grace, patience, and unwavering support. We would not have succeeded without it. Our Presbytery’s Committee on Ministry (COM) assigned us a pastor to support and guide us on our quest, a man who we could easily have picked to pastor the church. This man and his wife, also an ordained pastor, then came alongside the congregation to take over as interim pastor and have brought us through a period of healing and focused intention to prepare the way for our new pastor. As our interim pastor, his own Sacred Trust, he has made big asks of our PNC, the individuals on the committee and in the congregation, and the entire congregation. We needed the wake-up call to be intentional in our desire for God’s Will with this new direction.

Our trust was rewarded. The trust of the congregation was rewarded. The Sacred Trust has been fulfilled and our new pastor will be in our pulpit on July 2.

Thank you for reading and sharing a little bit of what our quest was like, our Sacred Trust. Now, go out and find a spiritual walkabout of your own, a Sacred Trust you can undertake. Our Lord will be by your side and the value is measureless.

In His grip,

jerry

My Heart Held Hostage

 

My Heart Held Hostage

I am rarely without my friend Webster except for those rare occasions when I am off the grid or phoneless, like when I take a shower. Webster doesn’t go there with me. He and I were discussing something that has been on my heart now for weeks and he says this regarding the word ‘Hostage’:

1a - person held by one party in a conflict as a pledge pending the fulfillment of an agreement. 1b – a person taken by force to secure the taker’s demands. (Merriam-Webster smartphone ap)

I must confess. The reason ‘hostage’ has been on my heart is because I am holding my heart hostage, as I frequently do. It looks sort of like this: ‘If the Dodgers win, I’ll do this; if they lose, I get to do that.’, ‘If they call, I’ll do this for them.’, ‘If that guy signals to get into my lane, I’ll let him in with a smile; if they don’t signal, to darn bad for them!’, ‘If this happens, then I’ll serve God today.’ – and so on.

When I am in that mode of operation, even if the outcome is what I want, I won’t really get all the benefits that I could have. In fact, my heart will be marred and not truly free. Just like hostages in a bank takeover need therapy for PTSD when they are released, so will my heart therapy. It is a no-win situation. The minute I chain up my heart, I’ve lost.

Rather than go to God and put demands on him for the Dodgers to win for him to get what he wants from me, I need to enjoy the game for what it is and give in to the Lord and be his servant. Except for maybe today when they lose 0-13, there is no joy in a game like that, so I should just turn it off and write something that might touch someone and meet them where they need to be met or when on the road I need to be gracious and not be surly and even if they don’t call, I need to be there for them.

It gets more serious when my heart is held hostage over my walk of faith. If I hold back because our worship isn’t the way I like it or even go so far as to think I’ll change churches if it’s not my favorite way and at the time I want it to be, then I have lost and however I worship will not be all that pleasing to the Lord. I cannot say to myself that I will reject my church if the church does not take a particular stand, then I have lost and even the service I do give the church will gain me little and my effectiveness will be limited.

It is not until I raise my hands in surrender that raising my hands in worship hits the mark.

1 Corinthians 12: 17b – “But now God has set the members, each one of them, in the body just as He pleased.”

I confess that over the years, and there have been many for me, I have on occasion been flummoxed enough to pray about moving on. Thankfully, that verse in 1 Corinthians is etched on my heart and I’ve sought the Lord rather than let my emotions get the best of me and ride out of town. I’m too simple a person to understand the whole purpose of God for me, I must listen.

It is not until I take a knee and swear fealty to God that my heart will be unchained.

The writer in me thinks of it like this – when I go through life writing my story and working to fit God into it, the plot ultimately falls apart and the story makes no sense. What I need to do is figure out how to chronical God’s story and my place it. Then the plot works itself out and makes sense.

As I am encouraging myself to unchain my heart from being a hostage against my own desires, I encourage you to do so as well.

In His grip,

jj white