Santa & Cal

Beth, Wheels & Terri visit me at the Outlet Mall

Like many youth pastors, early in my career I worked many second jobs, but there is no doubt as to which was my favorite.  For several years I was a mall Santa Claus at Christmas.  You know the guy- parents bring children to sit on his knee so a photographer can take a $20 Polaroid picture.  That was me!  Actually, I enjoyed it so much (except for occasionally being wet on!) that in later years I would moonlight at the job, working at strange locations like an Express Lube in Kissimmee.  I still own my Santa suit.  It was a joy to bring smiles to the faces of so many kids- and of course, when they knew about it, the students in my youth groups would show up as well.  I eventually wore the suit to youth Christmas parties.  It was, for the most part, a wonderful experience.

In 1981 I was working at an Outlet Mall in Greensboro, sharing Santa duty with an older guy.  When we weren't playing Santa we also worked at a kiosk selling leather hand bags, brief cases and trinkets.  This man (his name has long since escaped me; I'll just refer to him as Santa) had spent a number of years in the Navy and had lived in the Baltimore area before moving to NC.  He, like me, was a huge sports fan and much of our conversation concerned the current NFL season and the upcoming baseball season.  Santa was a huge Baltimore Orioles fan, and he told me one day of a young man who had grown up in the same neighborhood in Aberdeen, MD that he had lived in.  This young man was a player in the Orioles farm system who was ready for the major leagues, according to Santa- and he was a better person than baseball player.  His name was Cal Ripken, Jr.  Santa was right; Cal was ready for the big time.  He joined the Orioles in May of 1982, and at the end of the season was named the American League Rookie of the Year.  In 1983 he took another step towards greatness and was the A.L.  Most Valuable Player.  He led the Orioles to a World Series victory.  I couldn't help but think to myself at the time that old Santa had really been on to something...

Fast forward to September 6, 1995.  Cal Ripken, Jr. is playing in his 2,131st consecutive game for the Orioles, breaking Lou Gehrig's record for most consecutive games (see picture at top).  The entire sports world stops to watch and pay homage to Cal- for simply showing up every day.  Cal Ripken, Jr. was someone we could all identify with.  He had done something incredible without doing anything spectacular.  He was a guy who despite fame and fortune, despite bumps and bruises and despite everyone doubting his motives had simply shown up and done his job for what turned out to be almost 17 years- a total of 2,632 straight games.  He wasn't celebrated because of his great baseball skills; he was celebrated for being exceptional at the ordinary.

As I watched Cal take a victory lap around Camden Yards after the record became official, I couldn't help but wonder what his accomplishment had to say to people of faith.  I think it says a great deal.  Scripture says "and what does the Lord require of us?  Do justice; love mercy; and walk humbly with God."  In other words,God wants us to show up!  Every day.  No matter our sin, no matter our mood, and no matter our circumstances.  Just show up and do our best in the name of Jesus.  We are not called to do OK under the circumstances; we are called to let God lift us ABOVE the circumstances of our lives.  But we do have to show up.  God doesn't need more superstars, God needs more everyday players. Santa was so right.  Cal Ripken, Jr. was someone special- just like all of us who are created in the image of God.  All we have to do is refuse to take a day off, even when we are no where near our best- and we too can be in the Hall of Fame.  It's called the Kingdom of God...


Because of Jesus,

The Christmas Bonus

I first posted this story in December of 2009.  To tell you the truth, I had forgotten I had already told it here once.  But it's the story that is on my heart today, and so I share it again for your Christmas enjoyment.


I worked for churches for a lot of years.  You would think that if any organization would understand the significance of Christmas and the birth of our savior, it would be the church.  And for the most part, that is correct.  But while the corporate world often gives a monetary bonus to their employees during the Christmas season, none of the churches I worked for ever did.  I received all kinds of gifts from youth and their families, and I never felt cheated.  But still...

There was one quasi-exception to this.  While I was at Springfield Friends Meeting, every year a wonderful older lady named Margaret Ellington would give a cash "bonus" to staff members.  Margaret was not some wealthy widow who liked to throw around her money to impress people.  She was a secretary for a furniture company who was still working at the time.  She shared her money from her heart- and as such, it was both significant and generous.  It was not much money, but that wasn't the point.  It was what it represented- a gift of true love and caring for us.  As the great literary character Barrington Bunny once said, what Margaret gave was "a free gift, with no strings attached."  There were people in that church (and many others) with a whole lot more money who would have screamed to the heavens if the church tried to give the staff a bonus.  Margaret just took matters into her own hands and shared the love and the spirit of the season with us each year.  

The gift of the Christ child was one of unconditional love, given to people with faults and flaws, and given with no strings attached.  Margaret's gifts to us were the same.  I pray that this Christmas season I will give from the heart and honor the birth of Jesus and the gift of grace that He gave me.  Thank you, Margaret, for all you gave and all you taught me.

Because of Jesus,

A Smelly Way To Save the World

Each year at Christmas one of the grand traditions of the Church is to read the birth story of Jesus from Luke 2. I have read it so often (and heard Linus recite it so many times on A Charlie Brown Christmas) that I pretty much have it memorized. Some of it almost seems normal now, when in fact there is not a single normal thing about the story. And the part that always gets me is when the angels appear to the shepherds. The big announcement that the King of Kings and Lord of Lords was coming to earth was delivered in a field outside of a no-name village to a bunch of stinkin' sheep-herders. Absolutely ridiculous.


I mean, if God really wanted to make a splash with this birth you would have thought the angels would have appeared to the Roman rulers or the Jewish high priests. He might have tried a huge fireworks display and sky-writing event over downtown Jerusalem. That would have gotten the word out big-time. That could have made the rich and the powerful head for the stable that night, bringing honor and glory to the newborn King. Heck, they probably could have even gotten Joseph and Mary a room! But shepherds? Scripture tells us that they were "abiding in the fields" when the Heavenly Host (Is it just me or does that sound like a jazz band to anyone else?  Gabriel on trumpet, of course...) showed up. Of course they were! You know why? Because they smelled so bad no one wanted to be anywhere near them. Shepherds weren't even allowed in the temple in those days, because they were too nasty to go through the ritualistic purification required to worship there. They spent all of their days and nights in the field with sheep because no one else would have them! But when it came time to announce to the world that He was sending His only Son to save us, God turned to this smelly bunch of uneducated Hebrew rednecks. And they obeyed. They went to find the baby in a smelly barn, surrounded by smelly animals and laying in a disgusting manger- no doubt with animal slobber all over it (as a side note, I hope moms everywhere will note that Jesus and millions of other kids lived very healthy lives BEFORE the invention of the disinfectant wipe.  I'm just sayin...). And in the midst of all of this smelliness, hope was born. The world was saved, though no one knew it yet. When those stinkin' sheep-herders bowed to worship that baby, they represented us all. We are all totally unworthy of being in the presence of God, and yet because of the man that baby became we are all invited. How ridiculous!


The Jesus Revolution was going on right from the very beginning. God used a no-name girl from the least respected town of a pitiful little province to bring His Son into our world. He had him born in the most humble of circumstances, and sent His angels to the least likely witnesses anyone could think of. Before ever speaking a word, Jesus told the world that everything was about to change. Power, wealth and prestige were going to give way to the weak, the poor and the smelly. And yet so many of us have still not heeded that message.  I encourage you today to be willing to get a little smelly for Jesus. Find ways to connect with those who are "abiding in the fields" and are being ignored by our society. They have much to teach us. For the Jesus Revolution to take hold in this world, we all need to be more like the shepherds. My friends, it is time to get out there and stink, because God has shown over and over again He will use the smelly to change the world. How totally ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as sacrificing your only Son to save a bunch of sinful humans...   Amen and Amen.


My Deliverer is Coming....

Casting Call: The Movie of My Life

The following is an experimental blog post that is almost certain to fail.  Instead of me telling stories or offering opinions, it requires your participation.  If you don't play along, I've got nothing.  It may well be a waste of time.  But I'm in a goofy mood, so here's goes nothing...


I was talking with an old friend about silly things last week, and we began to discuss which actors we would like to play us if they ever made movies about our lives. As we talked about such a film she flattered me with the suggestion that I should be played by Steve Martin.  What a wonderful choice!  Steve is funny, handsome, musical, multi-talented and he has gray hair.  I am...uh...I also have gray hair.  I can see how she would think he was perfect for the role!  We discussed a couple of other folks who would be in the movie, including my former intern Jerry Hanbery, and she brilliantly suggested he could played by Jason Segal.  It was a pitch-perfect casting decision.  She also liked my choice for her, but I will leave the revelation of that secret bit of casting up to her!


So I began thinking- which in my case never leads to anything good!  All of you - my fearless readers- are a part of my life and would deserve at least a cameo in Carl: The Movie.  Who would you choose to play yourself or others you know who have been a part of my life?  If you go as far back as New Garden or Quaker Lake, I'd love to hear from you.  If you are from my Springfield years, who would you cast as folks like Charles Freedle, Amy Simmons or Ashley Goad (and no fair casting Tigger as Ashley!)? Or for my Kissimmee friends, who should play Todd Willis, Ben Thompson or Colleen Martin?  If you were part of the youth family at Wesley Memorial UMC here in Tampa, then perhaps you have suggestions for casting great people like Nina Mock or Zach Wehr.  If you are a member of my Twitter posse then you can nominate actors to play Angie Battle, Christie Weatherby, Jason Huffman - or yourself!  Perhaps you have suggestions as to who should play Marilyn, Will or any of the many other important people in my life.  Remember, it's not about who looks the most like my friends and family; it's about who you feel gives off the right "vibe" and attitude.  Also, if you just want to be funny with your suggestions, that's cool too!  :)


So here's your assignment.  Think about who is the right choice to play you (or me or anyone else for that matter!) and leave your suggestions in comment form, email me or text me.  This is an exercise in total silliness, but it reflects my mood today- so just do it!  I look forward to what will no doubt be well thought out and deeply intellectual suggestions.  :)  This movie is going to make big dollar.  Yes- dollar.  Hope you all have a great Monday.


Because of Jesus,

"He didn't look like a Messiah..."

Curt Cloninger

In my old friend Curt Cloninger's wonderful one man show Witnesses, the first character we meet is the famous/infamous innkeeper of Bethlehem.  Curt portrays him some years after the blessed event, explaining how Mary wound up having the baby out back of the inn.  He jokes about not knowing that she would "bingo with the baby that night," or he would have given her a room.  He speaks of missing marketing opportunities, because had Jesus been born in his inn he could have posted "the Messiah slept here" signs all over the place. But mostly he defends himself.  And his primary defense is this: "He didn't look like a Messiah- he looked like a baby!"  Had he known who Jesus was, he implies, he would have found a room for Joseph and Mary.  Instead, as we know, the Prince of Peace was born in a barn because there was no room in the inn.


Today, on this third Sunday of Advent, I ask this question:  Has anything really changed?  We still, far too often, claim not to recognize Jesus.  We warp his teachings. We don't love like he taught us to love.  We hurt people in his name.  At at Christmas we are quick to embrace the baby in the manger, but slow to recognize the things he would come to stand for as a man.  Peace. Love for everyone.  Forgiveness for all.  How often, when we come face to face with Jesus in our own lives do we send him out to the barn, declaring that we have no room for his radical teachings and demands on our lifestyles?  Just like Ricky Bobby in the movie Talladega Nights, we are much more comfortable with the non-threatening, cute little baby than we are with the One who came to save the world.


My prayer today is that I will remember that while Jesus may have come to us as a baby, he was always the Messiah.  Help me be like the shepherds who recognized him that first Christmas and told the world what they had seen.  Help me to "go tell it on the mountain" that the Messiah has come and the world will never be the same.  He did look like a baby- but that baby would grow up to change the world.  May we always have room for him in our hearts...


My Deliverer is Coming....

Spanish Wells, Revisited

Our 1997 Spanish Wells Mission Team

Jennifer did not appreciate the snacks, apparently! 

I have spent a great deal of time over the past few days reliving old FUMC-K war stories with my good friend Teresa Reep Tysinger.  If you are friends with her on Facebook, you may have seen her status yesterday in which she wrote that after our conversations she found herself daydreaming about the Bahamian island of Spanish Wells.  It is a place that is indeed worthy of daydreams.  I first wrote about this trip in July of 2010, but thanks to Teresa I wanted to share some of the special memories again today.  The 1997 Mission Trip (July 21-27) was special, and here are 7 things I remember about that amazing week...

1)  The previous summer another church had brought their youth group to S.W. to do VBS (Vacation Bible School) for all four churches on the island, just like we had done in 1995 and were ready to do again.  The church that came in-between our trips brought way too many youth, which put a serious strain on the hospitality of the locals.  Rev. Bill Higgs, pastor of Spanish Wells Methodist Church, asked me to limit our group to 15 or 16 people.  Since we had abut 50 kids who wanted to be part of a trip to the Bahamas, we made our students fill out applications and do interviews before we selected the team.  It made for some tough decisions, but we ended up with a mature, talented and dedicated group (that's us all dressed up at the top) that understood our mission was to serve.

Jerry and I in...action?

2)  To leave as many spots as possible for our youth, the only adults who went that week were Jerry Hanbery and myself.  And we did absolutely nothing!  The youth were divided into teams working on various areas of VBS such as crafts, music, recreation and Bible study.  The preparation all had to be done before the trip, because we had to take everything we needed.  There is no Wal-Mart (or much of anything else) in Spanish Wells.  They did the preparation, they did the setting up, and they did the teaching.  Jerry and I simply set back and basked in the glory...

3)  In addition to the Craft Nazis (Lisa Kraus and Sara Thacker running roughshod over small children, forcing them to do crafts while Erin Bay, Caron Cook and Kristin Landry cowered in fear!) I particularly remember the guys doing music.  Jacob Luper was on piano, Jamie Parker on ukulele and Jay Lynes and Ben Thompson were leading singing.  Having that sanctuary full of children every morning and watching them have so much fun praising Jesus was a blast.  Plus Jacob would break into Les Miz music during breaks!

One of our many boat rides between islands!

4)  The hospitality of the people of Spanish Wells was overwhelming.  We stayed in their homes, where we were treated as visiting royalty.  I know we certainly ate like kings!  Fresh conch, fresh lobster, fresh mango...well, you get the picture.  They took us out on their boats and took us to hidden beaches for picnics and some fabulous swimming.  The folks that Jerry and I were staying with took us (along with Teresa and Jennifer Minnigan) by boat to Harbour Island, home of the famous "pink sand."  We ate lunch there and I had the most amazing grouper sandwich in history!   I always felt a little guilty that we were the only ones who got to go- but not that guilty!  It sure made for a very special day and some great memories!  There were special events planned for us almost every afternoon after VBS, including some cliff jumping and a unique battle featuring Ben and Jamie throwing jellyfish at each other.  We ate a great meal at one of the two restaurants on the island.  The only downside of the friendliness of the locals was that some of their guys were getting a little too attached to some of our girls.  This was a serious issue because on the island the girls already outnumbered the guy by a 3-1 ratio.  New females who might steal the young men were not encouraged to do so.  But somehow we escaped without marrying off any of our folks...

Jill Souther was in every picture...  :)

5)  One of the families of the church had a little boy named Ferris who had a serious medical condition.  The entire church family showered love on Ferris, and we joined right in.  On every occasion that week when the church family was together (and that was often) the number one question coming from our group was, "Where's Ferris?"  We all fell in love with that little boy.

6)  It was quite warm in the Bahamas in July (surprise!) and special recognition should go to Catie Cook, Jill Souther, Matthew Teoli (all pictured at right) and everyone else who pitched in with the recreation area.  It was all outdoors, and was at times just a miserable place to be.  

7)  Do you want to know how strong the connections were we made that week?  After we returned, we had one of our SHO-Time dinners at the local Cracker Barrel in Kissimmee.  Many of the folks who gathered that night had been on the trip.  At the time Cracker Barrel served drinks in replicas of old Mason jars.  When the waitress brought our beverages, Jill Souther and Erin Bay looked at their glasses, then suddenly sobbed, "Ohhhhh...Mason jars.  There was a boy named Mason in Spanish Wells..."   As is often the case in mission work, the people of Spanish Wells had a greater impact on us than we did on them.

My 6 years at FUMC-K provided me with more great memories than I could ever list, but this trip to the Bahamas ranks right at the top.  Did I mention that there was lobster in the coleslaw?  And fresh mango and "Johnny Cakes" every morning for breakfast?  Serving Jesus through serving the people of Spanish Wells was one of the great privileges I ever had in youth ministry.  If you have memories of that trip, please feel free to share them.  And to everyone from FUMC-K who reads this blog, I have one final thought- would it kill you to leave a comment today?  I love you guys!

Because of Jesus,

Real Relationships Last A Real Long Time

Only one of these 3 is not currently a mommy.
They do grow up...

This may come as a surprise to many of you.  It certainly has surprised me.  Even after 52 years of life, God can still knock my socks off.  Over the past few months, not due to any effort on my own part, I have found myself back in youth ministry. I don't work for a church.  I don't have a job.  In fact, I do not have any students I am working with.  But I am back in student ministry.  It's just that now many of  my "youth" have gone zipping right past their 30th birthdays.  They are dads and moms, husbands and wives, teachers and lawyers.  They are the same people I loved and shared life with in the 1980s and 90s at Springfield Friends Meeting and the First United Methodist Church of Kissimmee.  They have been seeking me out, as they did when they were teenagers, to share in their joys and their struggles.  They just need someone they trust who will listen. And through these experiences I have been reminded of a few valuable lessons.


The struggles that we have as teenagers seem so important.  They seem like life and death matters when we are going through them.  And youth pastors help students survive these times and reach for the Light (Jesus) at the end of the tunnel.  It is an important time in life, and youth pastors serve a valuable role.  But the truth is, life does not get easier if we survive adolescence.  It gets more difficult.  Those puppy love heartbreaks that haunt teens become broken marriages in adults.  Academic struggles from high school become unemployment issues in adults.  Decisions that effect your life as a young person becomes decisions that change the world for your family as an adult.  The former youth I have been talking with over the past few months are all dealing with serious real life issues- both good and bad.  And they come to me because they know I will listen and they know I will offer them support.  They trust in this because it was always so.  They know my struggles and failures; some even think the things I have been through will help me understand them.  I don't have this relationship with all of my former youth, but I do believe that most of them feel like they could come to me at any time for love and encouragement, and I would "be there" for them.  God has made it clear to me that my charge to be in ministry to these folks who left youth group as far back as 25 years ago is still intact.  Our bond is still strong because it was forged in the fires of the family of God.  And I feel blessed to still be a part of their lives.


The second thing I have been reminded of is the reason for the first- relational youth ministry is forever!  Programs fade.  Bible studies are forgotten.  Flashy worship services drift away in our memories.  But the relationships that youth pastors build with students have the potential to last forever.  We strive to make a difference in the name of Jesus, and that is our constant goal.  But I continue to believe, now more than ever, that we best communicate the love of Jesus by loving students, and those relationships should not end with a graduation or a change of churches.  Real relationships last a real long time, I was once taught. Almost every day I get a call or an email confirming that.  It amazes me that God is still using me in their lives.  It amazes me that 5 years after leaving youth ministry I am realizing that if you have done it well, perhaps you CANNOT leave youth ministry.  The students just grow up.  And maybe- just maybe- they actually need us more than ever.  I used to worry about a 5 year strategic plan for my ministry.  In fact, my 30 year plan was already in place- building relationships.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Because of Jesus,