Flashback Friday: Puppets, Red Flags & Black Holes

Puppets still make me nervous...

Today's Flashback Friday post takes a look back at one of the weirdest weekends of my life. And the worst job interview ever!

Every now and then I read a few posts and tweets that talk about the ups and downs of seeking employment as a youth pastor. I have even received a couple of requests asking me what to look for when interviewing with a church. I tell them to pray that God would direct their steps as they seek out a new ministry. They are also warned to beware of Red Flags. What do those Red Flags look like? Here is one example from my past, originally posted in September of 2010. Welcome to the Black Hole of youth ministry...

One of the churches that caught my attention in my 1999 job search was a United Methodist church that advertised that they were located in Cincinnati. From what I had been able to discern, they were a growing church with a solid youth ministry that had never had a full-time youth pastor. I spoke with a woman who (along with her husband) was heading up their search effort, and several things about the position resonated with me. After being dazzled by the New Orleans offer and the relentless pursuit of Dr. Tommy Dunbar, I felt good about this church. God was leading me to explore this ministry. I accepted their offer to fly me up for an interview.

In retrospect, there were a few warning signs before ever boarding the plane. It turned out the church was in the suburbs of Cincinnati, but was actually located in Kentucky. It bothered me that no one in the church seemed to be claiming Kentucky as home. It also seemed a bit odd that I was going to visit this church but had yet to speak with the pastor. I passed that off as a Search Committee doing a good job; I would meet the pastor upon arrival. The emailed me an agenda for the weekend less than 24 hours before my departure, and conspicuously absent from it was any opportunity to meet any of the youth. It just all seemed a bit weird to me. And finally, I arrived at the airport only to discover that the Cincinnati, Ohio airport is also in Kentucky. Everything just seemed a bit off.

The pastor (his name was Paul- I only remember that because I prayed for him for months afterwards...) met me at the airport and drove me to a restaurant. On the way there, he explained to me that he had been cut out of the loop on the entire youth pastor hiring process because he opposed hiring anyone. Red Flag #1  He felt like the church could not afford a new full-time staff person. Red Flag #2  He explained to me that the couple who were heading up the search committee had been the volunteer youth leaders for several years and had no intentions of leaving- they just felt they needed more help. Red Flag #3  We arrived at the restaurant and he dropped me off and left. And that was my last real conversation with Paul until I called him after I returned home.

Lunch was with several adults associated with the youth ministry, and it was pleasant enough. Afterwards we went to the home of the couple in charge and sat around their house talking about the future of student ministry at their church. The backbone of the ministry had been a Puppet Ministry, which they led- and neither wanted nor needed help with. Red Flag #4   It was their pride and joy, and really (their words) "the only thing that mattered." The job of a new youth pastor would be to run all of the "day to day" stuff while they focused on the puppets. There was no need for mission trips- the puppet ministry took care of that. Red Flag #5  There was no possibility for trips of any kind- all of the money went to puppet team. Red Flag #6  In fact, a huge part of my task would be to raise money for the puppet team. BIG HONKIN' RED FLAG #7  And on it went, never getting any better. When I started to ask questions and mentioned the concerns Paul had shared with me, they told me not to worry about it. They already had enough votes on the Staff-Parish (HR in a UMC) Committee to have him moved the next June. He was a lame duck. Red Flag #8  By the time we went to the church for my interview my only real question was "Can I fly out tonight?" It was awful. The committee confirmed that the new youth pastor would basically work for them. Red Flag #9  And finally, as I by now suspected, the salary that had been discussed originally was off the table. They were offering me less that I was making at FUMC-Kissimmee. Red Flag #10  Ten red flags and absolutely no contact with the youth. This place was a student ministry Black Hole, and I wanted nothing to do with it.

The worship service the next morning was wonderful. It turns out that Paul was quite a preacher, and very innovative as well. I got several ideas that morning that were used a number of times later on and which prevented the trip from being a total waste of time. By the time my plane left Kentucky that afternoon, they knew I was not interested in the job- and a few of them knew why. I did call Paul when I got home to warn him of the"coup d'etat" being planned against him and to tell him he would remain in my prayers. The whole thing was quite a mess, and for that one weekend working with  The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named didn't seem quite so bad. But it only took one day back in the office to remind me that they were. So the search continued and eventually took me Chicagoland. But that's another story...

Because of Jesus,

30/30: My Worst Job

This week's prompt for the 30/30 Vision Blog Challenge is pretty basic: What's the worst job you ever had? Most of you know that I spent a lot years in youth work serving 8 different ministries, and I would never count any of those experiences as the worst- although the time spent working for The Pastor Who shall Not Be Named in 1999/2000 does get honorable mention. But I did have other jobs earlier in life, and like with most young people some of them were pretty crappy. I spent several weeks the summer after high school graduation shoveling horse manure out of stalls. I worked as both a waiter and cook at Pizza Inn. I drove for Road Runner Express Delivery, driving 300 miles a day picking up and delivering film and photographs (WARNING: extinct job!) at express drops from Greensboro to Shelby. I sold leather goods, knives and belt buckles at a Christmas-time kiosk at a mall during the hours I was not the mall Santa Claus. From 1983-1984 my job was in a yarn warehouse- 3rd shift -at a hosiery plant. I even trained to be a door-to-door salesman of family portrait packages- but never sold one so that doesn't really count that as a job. Like most of you, I had my share of misery for money. But none of those are the winner. None of those are the WORST.

The winner is the year I spent working for Color Tile in 1985. For those who don't know or don't remember, Color Tile was (is?) a retail chain that sold all types of flooring, ceramic tiles and carpet to both contractors and the general public. Employees were also trained in helping customers install the items they purchased. It was a large chain that was flourishing at the time, with three stores in Greensboro, NC. When I was first hired I was very excited. I would be a salesman, making both a hourly wage and commissions. Given my communication skills and sunny personality I was certain to be successful in sales. Right?

Circumstances never really game me chance to find out if that personal assessment was accurate. The Color Tile that hired me was located just outside the Carolina Circle Mall. That mall was known for 3 defining characteristics in those days. It was the new mall in the area with some trendy stores. It had an indoor ice skating rink, which was a big deal in Greensboro in the early 80s. And it was situated in a rough part of town that had a constant, powerful and distinct sewer smell lingering over the surrounding area. It was awful. As soon as you stepped out of your car it became difficult to breathe. Needless to say, the mall struggled to attract shoppers. And as the mall struggled, Color Tile was often deserted. The best salespeople in the world cannot make sales if they have no customers. To make matters worse, even though this was a shirt and tie kind of position, several days a week were spent unloading the trucks that arrived with new product. I remember well the joy of awaiting our rare customers while wandering a store - in a tie- soaking wet with sweat. Because business was so bad, the manager would often schedule only one person to close the store each night. In that part of town, being alone in any building with a cash register made anyone nervous. The only redeeming characteristic of the job was the paycheck- and even it was kind of pitiful. It was a long. miserable year.

One of the great moments of my life was being offered a position to serve New England Yearly Meeting of Friends as their Youth & Education Director in late 1985. Moving to Massachusetts to escape Color Tile didn't seem unreasonable. And to complete my end of the year renaissance, I proposed to Marilyn in December just before heading north. None of that changes the fact that my worst job was the year I pent selling DIY home improvement products to invisible customers. I'd love to hear about yours. Have a great weekend!

30/30: My First Job

It's week 2 of my 30/30 Vision Blog Challenge, and this week's topic is Your First Job. One of the advantages of making up your own list of prompts for a blog challenge is that you get to decide exactly what YOU meant by each topic. There are any number of ways I could go with this. The first time I got paid for doing work was while I was in high school, and my youth pastor hired a few of us to help him move rented furniture in and out of apartments and to help set up rooms in a new retirement facility. But that was very sporadic. I spent much of the summers after my junior and senior years in high school volunteering at Quaker Lake Camp, so no real money changed hands. For three weeks at the beginning of the summer of 1977 (after graduation) I was hired to clean stalls and feed some champion show horses by a family friend. Seeing as how it was only temporary, and I don't want to spend today writing about shoveling horse poop (cool as that was- and I did have some good times on that job!), I won't count that one either. My first real, full-time employment came when QLC hired me for the summer of 1978. But I have written so much about camp in this space that I am skipping that one as well! My first youth ministry position (1978), which was very important in my life as it led to my career working in churches, only paid $50 a month, so it doesn't really count either. Which brings me to my first regular, name tag wearing Joe Job. And that's the one I chose to write about today.

Sometime in the late 1970s there came a point when I had to have a little more income than my lucrative youth ministry positions had to offer. I was sharing an apartment with some friends, and that required money. I was planning a cross country adventure with friends in May of 1979, and that would require lots of money. So I got a a job at the local Pizza Inn as a waiter. Pizza Inn was a big deal in Greensboro, North Carolina at the time. There were 4 in town, and another (later to become legendary in my life) in High Point. When I was hired, I knew two things about PI. First, they had an amazing all-you-can-eat buffet every day at lunch. And secondly, on Friday nights after football games the place would swarm with students from my old high school who wanted a place to hang out- and who seldom spent much money. I was trained as a waiter (that took about an hour!) and began working both lunch and dinner shifts several days a week. I discovered that waiting tables at PI included busing them as well- and washing the dishes on many occasions. Like many first jobs, the work was hard and the pay was terrible. But there was pay! And slowly I discovered the keys to success as a waiter at Pizza Inn...


Lunch was always a buffet. People do NOT like to tip well when they are responsible for getting their own food. So you had to do two things to improve your chances. You had to be memorable. I tried to make them laugh, suggest new pizzas to try, ask them if there was any special pizza they wanted and bring it to their table first instead of straight to the buffet- anything to make them feel special. And most importantly, you kept their drink classes full. ALWAYS! If a customer had to ask for a refill, I had failed. They were getting their own food. Drinks were MY thing. Dinner was an entirely different matter. There was serious money to be made at dinner. There was a very popular restaurant in the area called Darryl's that was more upscale than our little pizza place- think Applebee's or Red Lobster prices. Darryl's had great beef ribs and steaks, as well as pizza and other things. What most people were just discovering at the time was that PI was owned by the same parent company, and that the steaks and ribs we served were the exact same ones as Darryl's- but at much better prices! So the dinner crowds got bigger, and the tips got bigger! And on Mondays, we had an all-you-can-eat-ribs night.  If you kept patrons plates full of ribs and their glasses full of sweet tea, the tips were often very, very good. I always worked Monday nights. Those tips eventually paid for a month on the road to California and back. It was a good first job.

I eventually was promoted to cook and offered a spot in management training, but I was still taking summers to work at QLC and Sundays for youth ministry, plus taking classes -so I had to pass. But I do have some great memories of fun times with co-workers, interesting customers (like the lady who came in every week and ordered her steak cooked rare- and she meant it. If it was too warm she sent it back!) and lots of mishaps and laughs. And then there was the night I gave free beer to future major league baseball stars Otis Nixon and Don Mattingly (currently the manager of the LA Dodgers) along with a number of other Greensboro Hornets. But that's another story...

My first job was a good one. I learned many valuable lessons about serving people, listening and being attentive that served me well over my years in ministry. I made some money. And I had some fun. Not much else you can ask for in a Joe Job, is there? I'd love to hear about your "first" jobs today too!

Because of Jesus,

One Last Job Search (Part 1)

If you are a regular reader you may recall that in December of 2005 I was unemployed, living in Tampa and looking for a new position in student ministry.  I sent resumes all over the place, but I had a few things working against me.  First of all, I couldn't exactly count on a glowing recommendation from the Rev. Not-Appearing-in-this-Blog, since he had removed me from my previous ministry a few months earlier.  Secondly, I was 46 years old, and many churches seemed to feel I was closer to retirement than I was to another youth ministry position.  And finally, after 27 years of ministry and more than a little success, many churches just assumed they couldn't afford me.  Offers to come interview were not flying in.  The churches that did contact me were a mess.  I didn't need another situation that needed a hero.  So I waited.


Sometime in December Trinity UMC of Waycross, Georgia saw my resume online and made contact with me.  After a few e-mails and a phone conversation with their Associate Pastor, I was invited to come interview.  I have to admit I had no idea where Waycross was- I am guessing most of you don't either.  It is located about an hour northwest of Jacksonville, Florida.  If you are travelling up I-95, it's about an hour to your west.  If you are on I-75, it's about an hour to the east.  In other words, if you aren't looking for Waycross there is no real reason you should know where it is!  I was expecting a small town, but I was somewhat surprised.  Arriving from the south, it felt like I had driven 50 miles without seeing a building (not true, but it felt that way) when suddenly I arrived at the Waycross city limits.  Immediately there were restaurants, car dealerships and motels.  The church was downtown, which seemed to be an mix of very old and very new buildings.  I had lunch with Pastor Don (the senior pastor) at Wendy's, and then met with the search committee that evening.  Along the way I discovered something very interesting.   The previous youth pastor at TUMC had been Chad Deetz.  Chad had been my intern at FUMC-Kissimmee in 1999, and I had served as a reference for him when he got he job in Waycross, spending a great deal of time on the phone with someone.  It was an odd connection.  In any case, the interview went well and I returned to Tampa feeling good about my chances.  I had a couple of other interviews lined up, and it looked like God might have something in mind for me yet.  That feeling was reinforced when TUMC called me back to interview with parents and students.  That unusual story continues on Friday...


Because of Jesus,

They Need A Hero

The final stop on my 2001 job search turned out to be Wesley Memorial UMC in Tampa.  Before I begin to tell you the story of how I wound up at WMUMC, I need to backtrack a bit and tell you something I still needed to learn about myself.

 By 2001 I had developed a "Hero Complex"  (The Green Lantern is one of my favs- can't wait for the movie this summer!).  The ministries that I felt called to over the years had all been seriously flawed, and I had sensed that God wanted to use my gifts to repair them.  When I went to New England Yearly Meeting of Friends in 1985, part of the reason was because I felt like the youth of that region needed more Christ-centered leadership and more personality- and I was the one who could provide those things.  Part of the attraction of my move to Springfield Friends Meeting (aside from going back to NC and getting married!)in 1986 was that the church was falling apart.  A staff member (the one in charge of youth) had left over disagreements with the Senior Pastor and had taken a part of the congregation with him.  The student ministry would need to be totally rebuilt.  I relished the thought of that.  I left SFM in 1994 (even though I was still in love with the church and the people there) after I felt God calling me to the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee, where a once thriving youth ministry was falling apart after having 3 different leaders in 2 years.  Again, I had great confidence that I was God's man for the job.  When I left there to escape The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named in 2000, part of the reason the Union Church of Hinsdale was so appealing to me was that they needed my skills and experience so badly- no one had ever really done youth ministry there.  I loved swooping in and being the hero.  And to some extent, I had been successful at every stop.  I loved seeing tangible progress- watching a ministry rise from the ashes.  I know now that my heroism was not particularly healthy, for me or for them.  But by 2001, this had become a part of my job search DNA.

The initial information I received in my phone interview with WMUMC indicated that this was a church that was right in my wheelhouse.  The Senior Pastor, Jerry Sweat, was young and exciting, plus he had 2 kids of youth group age.  Tampa was a great fit for my family- close to my parents, close to Walt Disney World and near all of our dear friends in Kissimmee.  And the youth ministry was in complete chaos.  The previous Youth Pastor had been the wife of the Associate Pastor, and they had left WMUMC and taken a section of the church with them.  A number of key student leaders (including their daughters) were gone.  Another very active family had moved away.  The youth who remained had not been terribly excited about the direction of the ministry in the first place; now they were skeptical anything good could come from all of the turmoil. They had a great youth choir and some good volunteers in place, but overall things were a mess. It seemed like exactly the kind of situation I was seeking, and the kind of place God had often called me to.  Marilyn and I flew down for an whirlwind day of interviews in August of 2001.  Those stories- including how I got asked out on a date- are coming Wednesday.  Stay blessed!

Because of Jesus,

Eyes Wide Open

As I continued my search for a new church home in the summer of 2001 I was invited to interview at a very large United Methodist Church in Baton Rouge, LA.  I had participated in a very spirited and lengthy telephone interview with their search committee, and my interest had been piqued.  I had learned it was a nearly 6000 member church, with a thriving youth ministry.  The youth had their own building with a gym and multiple classrooms.  A Youth Ministry Team was already in place.  The Senior Pastor seemed to be a solid leader and preacher.  I chatted a bit with the man I would be following in the position, and he had glowing things to say about the church.  And they had a house for us.  After much prayer and discussion with Marilyn about the location, we agreed I should fly down and take a look.

At that stage of my youth ministry career, I was pretty much done with "candidating" at churches.  I had enough confidence and experience to feel like I was interviewing the church, not the other way around.  I had my eyes wide open for traps or situations that seemed destined to be trouble.  My last two memories at this point were The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named in Kissimmee and a church where I didn't fit at all in Hinsdale. I was excited to be in Baton Rouge, but I was cautious.

As I began meeting with the search committee red flags started popping up everywhere.  The church did have almost 6000 members, but Sunday morning attendance was closer to 500.  The "thriving" student ministry was actually small and limited.  In fact, everything was scheduled around sporting events at LSU (although getting to spend some Saturday nights in Death Valley did sound pretty awesome!).  The Youth Ministry Team was still extremely loyal to the previous youth pastor, whom the youth building was named after. He was still going to be on staff.  In fact, he would be my supervisor.  AWKWARD!  The Senior Pastor confided in me that he was not planning to be there much longer.  The house they had mentioned MIGHT be available for us, but that was still in question.  The whole thing was a disaster- and yet I found myself hoping they would offer me the job.  I was tired of looking.  I was no longer seeking to be called by God- I just wanted out of Hinsdale.  Fortunately, God was still in control, and the offer never came.  I was rescued from myself.  Which left me free to make my visit to Wesley Memorial UMC in Tampa- and the story of my journey there will start next Monday.  Come along for the ride!

Because of Jesus,

The WOW Factor

On the Sunday of our interview weekend in 1999 we attended church at the Union Church of Hinsdale.  It happened to be Commitment Sunday, a time of lifting up the church budget and asking members to make a financial pledge for the following year.  I already knew that Union Church was a very traditional church in terms of the layout of the sanctuary, the music and its' worship style.  This concerned me a bit, so I was was anxious to see what worship felt like.  I was astonished when as Rev. Dick Nye began his sermon, he was interrupted by a man walking down the aisle dressed in biblical garb.  This man ascended to the pulpit and introduced himself as Moses.  What followed was a wonderfully creative skit on giving that had the congregation laughing and involved.  It felt neither stuffy nor overly traditional, and it put many of my fears to rest.  Once again, I was impressed.

Lunch with a few of the church staff members did little to change my impression.  Dick Nye, Barb Cathey, Mark Toole and others seemed like people it would be a joy to work with.  They all said glowing things about the church and about the possibilities for student ministry there- with the right leadership. I found out that Barb and I would share a secretary.  I had never had my own secretary before (although Millie from Springfield might argue that point!).  They informed me that the two areas of youth ministry that seemed to be working at Union were a hand bell choir (see album-yes, album- cover at top) and a Spring Break Mission Trip they called Work Tour.  They told me that the church contained a wide range of theologies, and wanted to know about my comfort level with those who believed differently than I did.  Having at various times been one of the more liberal believers in North Carolina and perhaps the most conservative Christian in all of New England, I felt uniquely qualified to handle the situation.  I left lunch feeling more and more like this might be the place.

More visiting with David Knecht and Mary McKenzie also helped.  These were two loving, caring Christ-followers who had huge hearts both for youth and for the "least of these" in Chicagoland.  They both loved Jesus, and both of them would be there to help.  Mary was a stay-at-home mom and David had sold his computer company and was basically retired- at age 35 or so.  He wanted to learn everything I knew about youth ministry- it had become his new passion.  Everything I had learned about Union Church was leading me to think that this was where God wanted me next.  Marilyn and I flew home still worried about how far away it was (and about the lack of contemporary music, but the staff seemed to think I could have an impact on that) but otherwise just praying that God would give us a clear answer on moving.

Looking back later, it was easy to see how I was seduced by Union Church.  It was the WOW Factor.  First, there was the feeling that they needed me- not someone like me, but ME!- if their youth ministry was ever to be all it could be.  Secondly there was the money.  Not just the huge salary, the nice house in a nearby neighborhood and the other benefits, but the opportunity to do ministry with an almost unlimited budget.  There was the church staff and the people already in place to be molded into a Youth Ministry Team.  David and Mary were amazing people, and I could not wait to get to know them better.  I would have great people to work with.  And finally, the skit at worship that morning had convinced me that despite being an older, traditional church, worship was creative.  I looked at all of that and said WOW!  And after some time praying about it, Marilyn and I looked at all of that and said YES.

Remember what I wrote yesterday about seeing only what we want to see?  In the end, worship was actually seldom creative at UC.  The money was not what it seemed to be.  The Allegro Hand Bell Choir turned out to be in competition with the youth ministry in many ways.  There were people excited about building a student ministry, but the youth and parents were not really part of that group.  And perhaps most importantly, there were very few people in that church with the love for Jesus Christ that I had seen in the staff and in Mary and David.  I'll write more about all of that later on.  Before we headed to Hinsdale, we had a long way to go at FUMC-K.  Those stories will resume on Monday.  Tomorrow it's another Moment With Mullins!  See you then.

Because of Jesus,

Brave New World

Marilyn and I flew to Chicago in the autumn of 1999 to interview with the Union Church of Hinsdale.  We had no idea what to expect.  We knew very little about Chicago and almost nothing about Hinsdale.  We knew no one in the area.  David Knecht (pictured; he's on the right), the co-head of the Search Committee, was meeting at the airport- and we had no idea what he looked like.  It was all a great mystery.

David was there to meet us, and as we drove the 25 miles or so out to Hinsdale he talked excitedly about the weekend they had planned for us.  We were headed for the house of Mary and Tim McKenzie.  Mary was actually co-head of the committee with David, and her home would be the center of operations for the weekend.  Before heading there to meet the committee over lunch, we stopped in downtown Hinsdale to get our first look at the village and the church.  Both were like something out of a movie.  The church was large, old and majestic.  It was located just a block from downtown and across the street from the middle school.  Hinsdale was a beautiful little village.  My dear friend Pat Pribyl from Kissimmee had once lived in the area, and she would later tell me that "Hinsdale is what Celebration (the Disney planned community near Walt Disney World) wants to be when it grows up."  After a quick look around we were off to the McKenzie's home.

We knew right away that we were in a different world.  The house was not any larger than the rest of the homes we saw in the village- but it was HUGE.  As we were shown to our room we were amazed to discover the house had 9 bathrooms.  Nine.  We would later learn that the average price of a home in Hinsdale was $850,000.  We recovered from our initial shock and began a very long day of interaction and interviews.  I met with the committee all afternoon while someone took Marilyn around to see more of the community. 

The interview was the longest and most amazing I have ever experienced.  They questioned me about every experience I had ever had related to student ministry.  I had to recap my entire career.  I had to explain in great detail my philosophy of ministry.  I was tested on my knowledge of Purpose Drive Youth Ministry.  They wanted to hear all about The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named and why I wanted to leave Kissimmee.  Every member of the committee had questions.  And then they began to talk about salary and benefits.  I was stunned.  They were offering more than double my FUMC-K salary and better benefits.  It was a huge job they wanted done, and they knew they needed someone with experience to do it- and they were willing to pay for it.  The power of my ego (thinking I was the only man for the job) and the money began a slow seduction of my soul; one that I would remain completely unaware of for quite some time.  For now, I just knew I really enjoyed this group of people.  By dinner time I was exhausted.  But not done.

That night the McKenzie's were hosting a party for Michael Surratt.  Michael was the church's longtime organist and hand bell director who had just spent a year on sabbatical.  A paid sabbatical.  I had been in youth ministry for over 20 years and no one had ever even mentioned a sabbatical.  The only sabbatical I had ever been a part of was sleeping on the floor in in the youth room at FUMC-K at our Radical Sabbaticals. At Union Church, Michael had taken one because it was required every 7 years!   And now they were welcoming him back with a party.  I was really growing to like this place.  At the party I met dozens of new people, and they all had questions as well.  I was getting the feeling that this church really cared about this Youth Pastor position.  And that was a great thing...

Tomorrow I will tell you more about David, Mary and the staff of Union Church.  I was about to be fooled by people who had no desire to fool me.  Sometimes we only see what we want to see...

Becasue of Jesus,

Meanwhile, back in 1999...

In the midst of all of the madness of the unending e-mails, phone calls and interviews as I sought to escape The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named, I was contacted by the Union Church of Hinsdale (pictured).  After a phone interview with several members of their Search Committee I was very intrigued.  The head of the committee was a man named David Knecht, and he seemed to know his stuff.  He had spoken with members of the Youth Specialties staff seeking to get a handle on what they should look for in a Youth Pastor.  He had the entire committee reading Doug Field's excellent book Purpose Driven Youth Ministry (which had been a huge influence on the past few years of my own ministry) to get a feel for what a student ministry could look like at Union Church.  He sent me a questionnaire to complete.  It was very thorough, asking about my philosophy of ministry, my beliefs and my leadership style.  They wanted to know what books I had been reading and what other ministries I felt I could contribute to.  It presented me with scenarios and asked me how I would respond in certain situations.  I was impressed.

Union Church was a large church in Hinsdale, a very wealthy western suburb of Chicago.  Very wealthy.  It seemed to me it was a church with the desire and the resources to really reach youth in the name of Jesus.  A youth program had been in place for many years, and in the 1960's and 70's it had been quite vibrant.  It had dropped of dramatically over the years, and they were looking to go a new direction.  They need someone who could jump start things.  They thought I might be their man.  My ego told me the same thing... 

There were (in the beginning) only two major obstacles I could see.  One, this place was in Chicago.  It was hours away from my family, from Marilyn's family and from our friends.  It was a long ride to Walt Disney World and Myrtle Beach.  We would be facing this without any of the people and things we knew and loved.  Secondly, I knew almost nothing about the United Church of Christ, the denomination that Union Church was connected to.  At first I had thought they were Church of Christ, which meant no music in worship, and I would have never considered that.  I discovered that to be wrong, but I knew little else.  I began to research and found that the UCC was (in my mind, anyway) a cross between the Quakers and the Methodists I had been serving (more on that in a future post).  Marilyn and I decided that I should at least accept their offer to fly us up for an interview. 

Before flying to Chicago, I went into the office of The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named and tried to speak with him about what was going on at FUMC-K.  I told him how much I loved that church and how much I loved the students I served there, the Youth Ministry Team we had put together, and the staff I worked beside.  I told him I wanted to stay, but I needed to know some things were open for discussion, like returning to a more contemporary worship style and a freedom to do ministry the way we had been doing it before he arrived.  I was promised nothing.  He might as well have said, "Bon Voyage, Carl!"  I was headed to Hinsdale.  Tomorrow I will tell you the story of the never-ending interview, and the beginning of a seduction.  Don't miss it!

Because of Jesus,

An Unexpected Visit

I should make a full disclosure here: I am a huge Lord of the Rings fan.  I have read the books of the trilogy (plus The Hobbit) at least 4 times, and we own all 3 movies.  I tell you this because my title for today is "borrowed" from J.R.R. Tolkien, and because during my 1999 job search I felt a bit like Gandalf the Grey, zipping in and out of towns shrouded in mystery, not sure if I was being helpful or just being mischievous.  Very few of my friends at FUMC-K knew what I was up to.  Many of my readers have told me how unaware they were of all the turmoil in Kissimmee during the early months of the reign of The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named (I know, I am mixing my metaphors- Voldemort just joined Gandalf in a Super Wizard combo pack!)  It makes me happy to know that the youth of FUMC-K (at that time) were not aware of what was going on.  Almost no one (sorry, Amber) knew I was looking for a new job.  We just all knew we missed Rev. John Willis terribly...

At some point in this process I was contacted by a UMC just outside of Charlotte, NC.  At the time it was one of the fastest growing churches anywhere, because it was located in an area of extreme, frenetic growth.  Houses and businesses were going up left and right within a few miles of the church.  The church had gone from 500 members to 3000 members in a few short years.  It sounded like an incredible opportunity for ministry.  I did two phone interviews with the pastor and the Search Committee and was very impressed.  They were as well.  They called back a few days later and wanted me to come up, meet the students and see if I felt God calling me back to NC.  After a few days praying about it, I told them no.

Why?  There were a couple of reasons.  Because of the amazing growth of the church, the facilities (worship space, parking, space for groups to meet in) were woefully inadequate.  They were going to spend at least the next 5 years building just to catch up.  There was going to be so much money and energy invested in those projects that it was unclear to me what would be "left over" for ministry.  I was afraid that student ministry, which is often way down the list of priorities when it comes to money, would actually get only the "left overs."  The second reason was more personal.  Marilyn and I were uncertain we wanted to go back home to NC at that point in time.  So we said no.

A few weeks later the pastor called me and asked me if I had any second thoughts.  By this time I was also involved in talks with the Union Church of Hinsdale near Chicago, and I told him I had moved on.  He asked for one more chance to change my mind.  A couple who worked with the youth (the wife had also been on the search committee) were at Walt Disney World on vacation.  He wanted to know if they could stop by and see me at my office that afternoon.  Completely caught off guard, I said yes.  They came by, and the situation was a bit awkward.  They actually met The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named; I introduced them as friends from NC.  I have to admit listening to them almost made me change my mind.  They were very authentic and very persuasive.  I promised them I would pray about it some more, and I did.  But in the end, I still said no.  I was feeling more and more like God was calling me to Union Church.  But that's a story for next week.  Tomorrow get ready for some new Shout Outs- including information on how I might get sued!  See you then!

Because of Jesus,

The Black Hole

One of the churches that caught my attention early on in my 1999 job search was a United Methodist church located in Cincinnati.  From what I had been able to discern, they were a growing church with a solid youth ministry that had never had a full-time youth pastor.  I spoke with a woman who (along with her husband) was heading up their search effort, and several things about the position resonated with me.  After being dazzled by the New Orleans offer and the relentless pursuit of Dr. Tommy Dunbar, I felt good about this church.  I felt God leading me to explore that ministry.  I accepted their offer to fly me up for an interview.

In retrospect, there were a few warning signs before I ever got on the plane.  It turned out the church was in the suburbs of Cincinnati, but was actually located in Kentucky.  I am not sure why it bothered me that no one in the church seemed to be claiming Kentucky as home, but it did.  It also seemed a bit odd that I was going to visit this church but had yet to speak with the pastor.  I passed that off as a Search Committee doing a good job; I would meet the pastor upon arrival.  I received an agenda for the weekend by e-mail less than 24 hours before leaving, and conspicuously absent from it was any opportunity to meet any of the youth.  It just seemed a bit weird to me.  And finally, I arrived at the airport only to discover that the Cincinnati, Ohio airport is in Kentucky.   Everything just seemed a bit off.

The pastor (his name was Paul- I only remember that because I prayed for him for months afterwards...) met me at the airport and drove me to a restaurant. On the way there, he explained to me that he had been cut out of the loop on the entire youth pastor hiring process because he opposed hiring anyone.  Red Flag #1  He felt like the church could not afford a new full-time staff person.  Red Flag #2  He explained to me that the couple who were heading up the search committee had been the volunteer youth leaders for several years, and had no intentions of leaving- they just felt they needed more help.  Red Flag #3  We arrived at the restaurant and he dropped me off and left.  And that was my last conversation with Paul until I called him after I returned home.

Lunch was with several adults associated with the youth ministry, and it was pleasant enough.  Afterwards I went home with the couple in charge, and we sat around their house and talked about the future of student ministry at their church.  The backbone of the ministry had been a Puppet Ministry, which they led- and neither wanted nor needed help with.  Red Flag #4   It was their pride and joy, and really (their words) "the only thing that mattered."  The job of a new youth pastor would be to run all of the "day to day" stuff while they focused on the puppets.  There was no need for mission trips- the puppet ministry took care of that.  Red Flag #5  There was no possibility for trips of any kind- all of the money went to puppet team.  Red Flag #6  In fact, a huge part of my task would be to raise money for the puppet team.  BIG HONKIN' RED FLAG #7  And on it went, never getting any better. When I started to ask questions and mentioned the concerns Paul had shared with me, I was told not to worry about it.  They already had enough votes on the Staff-Parish (HR in a UMC) Committee to have him moved the next June.  He was a lame duck.  Red Flag #8  By the time we went to the church for my interview my only real question was "Can I fly out tonight?"  It was awful.  The committee confirmed that the new youth pastor would basically work for them.  Red Flag #9  And finally, as I by now suspected, the salary that had been discussed originally was off the table. They were offering me less that I made at FUMC-K.  Red Flag #10  Ten red flags and absolutely no contact with the youth.  This place was a student ministry Black Hole, and I wanted nothing to do with it.

The worship service the next morning was wonderful.  It turns out that Paul was quite a preacher, and very innovative as well.  I got several ideas that morning that I used a number of times later on, which prevented the trip from being a total waste of time.   By the time I flew home that afternoon, they knew I was not interested in the job- and a few of them knew why.  I did call Paul when I got home to warn him of the "coup d'etat" being planned against him.  I prayed for him.  I prayed for me.  For that one weekend, The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named didn't seem quite so bad.  But I got over it...

Because of Jesus,

Dazzled

One sunny morning in the autumn of 1999 I arrived at my office at the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee expecting an uneventful day.  As happens so often in ministry, I was dead wrong.  I no sooner opened my door than the intercom buzzed, and our secretary Katie told me that The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named wanted to see me.  I headed downstairs trying to think what this visit could be about and assuming it would not be good.  This time I was correct. 

Some of the students I spent "too much time" with- 1999

I was barely seated in his office when he began to share some thoughts on our student ministry.  He had heard from "reliable sources" that some of the youth had been talking about him in a disrespectful manner.  This was true.  His "pretend tears" that seemed to come most every week in worship had turned him into somewhat of a laughing stock among the teenagers (and some of the adults, I might add).  I did not tell him this, but did say I would speak with the youth about being more supportive.  He continued on to say that he was concerned about the number of youth attending church.  I reminded him that at our lunch a month prior to that morning I had expressed concern that the youth were very disappointed at the changes he had made to worship.  He told me it was my job to make them attend.  And finally- and most unbelievably- he informed me that our summer ministries had paid far too much attention to building relationships and attracting new youth.  He wanted me to spend less time with students and more time in my office.  I was speechless.  He also informed me that we were spending too much money on students whose parents were not members of FUMC-K.  This had to stop, I was told.  I half expected him to require membership cards (like the Show Me Cards from the alternate world on FRINGE) for admission to the youth room.  When I left the office of The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named that morning, I had a variety of names for him- none of which I can print here.  I was not asking "WWJD?"- I was thinking more along the lines of "What would Chuck Norris do?" I knew that my days in Kissimmee were numbered.

I went back up to my office and checked my e-mail, finding that several more churches had responded to my online resume.  Among those responses was one from an Episcopal church in New Orleans.  The head of their search committee had left a phone number and asked me to call him- so I did.  He told me that his committee had reviewed a number of resumes and placed mine at the top of their "wanted" list.  This was a very large church, with a huge budget for youth ministry.  He told me that the salary range was more than twice what I was currently making- at the low end.  They wanted me to fly my family in for an interview and to see the facilities (which sounded amazing) as soon as possible.  I agreed.  I was so frustrated with The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named and so dazzled by this church that I didn't even think about it.  I just said yes.  I was to talk to Marilyn and get back to them with a date. 

And then I started thinking.  What did I know about the Episcopal church?  Very little, except the history of how it came to be.  And that was enough to remind me that this Quaker had enough problems with the hierarchy and structure of the UMC- I would never survive as an Episcopal. This was not their problem- it was my own personal preferences.  I was just beginning to truly explore contemporary worship, and this church sounded even more liturgical and traditional than FUMC-K.   I knew very little about New Orleans as well.  Realizing I had jumped the gun, I called him back and said I needed some time to pray about it.  Two days later I cancelled the trip altogether.  My search would continue.  And it would not be the last time I would be dazzled by the "things of this world" as I tried to find a place to serve God.  Tomorrow, I take my first trip for an interview- in Kentucky.  And it was a doozy...

Because of Jesus,

A Roller Coaster Ride

As I wrote about on Friday, the autumn of 1999 was a wild time in my life.   I posted my resume with some online job banks and began to receive e-mails and phone calls from all over the country.  At first I was hesitant to respond, because I loved Kissimmee and the students and adults I worked with so much.  But eventually, even that love began to give way to my frustration with The Pastor Who Shall Not Be Named.  I began to listen to some of the offers.  The roller coaster ride was beginning.  Over the next few days I will give you a behind the scenes look at some of what I was encountering.  We shall begin with Dr. Tommy Dunbar. 

I received a phone call from Dr. Tommy Dunbar petty early in the process, and he was a very impressive man.  He served as pastor of Clear Lake UMC, just outside of Houston.  Clear Lake was a large, growing congregation in need of someone to jump start their student ministry, and Dr. Tommy Dunbar thought I was just the man for the job.  I keep referring to him as Dr. Tommy Dunbar because that was how he would identify himself each and every time he would call.  And he called a lot!  He called to "sell" me on the church.  He called to tell me about all of the NASA employees, including astronauts, who lived in the Clear Lake community.  And he called- and called- to tell me what a "perfect fit" I was for their staff and their youth ministry.  He was a great guy and a good salesman.

He was, however, working against very strong opposition.  Marilyn and I had absolutely NO inclination to move to Texas.  It seemed so far away, and Houston was even hotter than Florida in the summer.  So despite his refusal to take no for an answer, I would not schedule a trip to Clear Lake for an interview.  He continued to call, even after I had accepted a position.  I think I would have loved working Dr. Tommy Dunbar- but just not in Texas.  No matter how often he called- and he called OFTEN- our decision was already made.

And therein lies a problem.  We didn't want to go because of distance and weather.  I was so wrapped up in all of the attention and the plethora of opportunities coming my way that where God was calling me got pushed to the back-burner.  I was going to make the decision.  Dr. Tommy Dunbar clearly believed God needed me in Texas.  I never stopped to listen to God's calling at the time.  I was too busy making up my own mind.  I was beginning to let it be all about me.  And I was clueless as to how far off track I was headed.   So my search continued.

One final note to this saga:  I had moved to Illinois by the following summer, when I received a call at home.  It was Dr. Tommy Dunbar.  He had been moved from Clear Lake UMC (I was so glad not to have gone through another pastoral change) to another church in Texas, and he needed a youth pastor.  I had only been at Union Church for a couple of months, but he didn't care.  He still wanted me.  By then it was too late- for both of us.  The ride continues as New Orleans comes calling tomorrow.

Becasue of Jesus,

Blue Collar Man

I began working in youth ministry at the age of 18, so later in my life when I would tell people I had been in the profession for over 20 years they would inevitably say "so you've never had a REAL job, huh?"  Well let me tell you- I have had some REAL jobs!  In addition to working as both a waiter and a cook at Pizza Inn while I worked at New Garden Friends Meeting, I worked several "Joe jobs" between August of 1983 and November of 1985.  And I learned a little something from all of them!

I worked as the third shift (11pm-7am) warehouse manager for Kayser-Roth Hosiery in Kernersville, NC.  This was the same plant where my Dad worked as a supervisor for many years.  Warehouse Manager was interesting job title, as on third shift there was no one to manage but myself!  Every night I would roam the factory where socks were made, determine what kinds of yarn were needed from the warehouse, use a forklift to retrieve the yarn, and then take it out on the floor to the knitters.  I worked with a lot of women on this job, and very few of them had happy stories to tell.  Most were part of broken families, victims of abuse, substance abusers themselves, and many other tragedies.  On nights when I wasn't too busy with yarn, I would stand at the knitting machines and listen to their stories about themselves and their children and try to offer suggestions- and more importantly, hope.  Sometimes it was a challenge, but these nightly meetings always reminded me that there is "that of God in everyone," no matter how downtrodden or hopeless they may seem.  Telling these ladies of God's grace, hope and love was a ministry I would have not experienced any other place I had ever been, and it was something I still carry with me.

I tried selling knives door-to-door for three days before wanting to order a set so I could hurt myself, so I moved on quickly!  I went from that to driving a Volkswagon Rabbit (the powerless, diesel kind!) 8-10 hours everyday for Roadrunner Express Delivery.  I would pick up the car in Greensboro, and then drive a route that took me through Charlotte and on to Gastonia and Black Mountain.  My job?  To pick up Kodak film people had dropped in "one day developing" bins at various stores and deliver the photos from the film I had picked up the day before.  Yes- such a business once actually existed!  Spending 40-50 hours a week alone in a car left me lots of time to think and plan and pray about the future and what I wanted my next ministry to look like.  You read that right- what I wanted my next ministry to look like!  I still had so much to learn...

My final job before God led me back into ministry was as a salesman at Color Tile, a national chain that sold carpet, paint, and of course, tile.  The store I worked at was in Greensboro near Carolina Circle Mall, a mall no one shopped at or visited.  It was by a sewage treatment plant and the smell was horrible.  I could work a 12 hour day at Color Tile and not see but a dozen customers.  Part of my compensation was commission, so you can see how this was not a good situation.  But I learned a great deal during my few months there.  I learned how to measure a room, how to install tile, the right way to paint and how to unload trucks full of thousands of pounds of tile and carpet.  The things I learned at Color Tile and the rest of these jobs would serve me well over the years because they gave me a better understanding of what life is like for so many people- jobs they hate, financial struggles and family struggles.  The faith many of these people had in Jesus inspired me; I realized how important the hope that Jesus brings was in their lives.  Little did I know at the time how much I would need that hope twenty years later...  I now knew what it was like to be, as Styx sang,  "a blue collar man."

I did have one other job beside Youth Pastor during that time, spread out over a number of years.  But that's tomorrow's story, and it involves two guys named Santa Claus as well as Cal Ripken, Jr.  Don't miss it...

Because of Jesus,