Jesus in the Morning

This might be a record.

I got nineteen minutes (count them, 19!) of their undivided attention at chapel for Kids 1st Academy today. And the best part is I got to answer the question one of them asked me last week after chapel, “who is Jesus?”

We learned the song “Jesus in the Morning,” so I just had to post my favorite picture of Jesus for all time (unless I’m mistaken it originated from Sally Allocca’s mother). We learned the Bible verse “For God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son.”

I got to introduce some people to Jesus today. What can be better than that?

Letter in Support of God's Children

Some of the clergy in the state of Alabama recently signed a letter, expressing love and care for transgender children and their families.

I signed it, too.

I respect differences of opinion on the issues of our day, and I tend to be a centrist on most of them. I lean left on some and right on others. I affirm diversity of thought in politics and am so happy to serve a diverse local church. I stick to preaching the truths of the gospel on Sundays.

However, these laws appear to target marginalized families, and I am passionate about that because it's not the way of Jesus. I signed it not because of politics but because of my passion for pastoral care. It goes too far when the vulnerable are targeted unnecessarily.

You can read about our letter here. A portion of it reads "Seeing love thrive in spite of all the world’s challenges should be a primary goal of God’s followers, as this is what He sent His son to exemplify for us.

"The Holy Spirit moves in profound ways at separate times in each of us and our brothers and sisters in Christ may see some of God’s children through a different spiritual lens. God calls us not to judge our fellow man for difference because of these differing lenses but calls us to help with discernment and to share our knowledge of the love of Jesus Christ. Love one another, be patient for the Holy Spirit to work, and continue to pray for those who harbor fear in their hearts about that which is not easy or comfortable to understand.  Being inclusive of all of God’s children requires bearing a cross for those with lesser voices while attempting to understand their human experiences.

"The life of a Christian requires each of us to think bigger than oneself and to consider the many facets of human existence and the Creator’s unique design of humanity.  The Holy Spirit comforts and strengthens us and reveals our unique talents that equip us to serve the masses and to bring all into the fullest relationship with God possible."

I agree with my friend and former parishioner Judge Liles Burke's ruling. He blocked part of the law he believes is likely unconstitutional, the part which criminalizes offering medical care. You can read about that here. Burke wrote, "Enjoining the Act upholds and reaffirms the 'enduring American tradition' that parents—not the states or federal courts—play the primary role in nurturing and caring for their children." Bingo. That's why I signed the letter.

Burke wrote “Parent Plaintiffs are substantially likely to show that they have a fundamental right to treat their children with transitioning medications subject to medically accepted standards and that the Act infringes on that right" . . . "The Act prevents Parent Plaintiffs from choosing that course of treatment for their children by criminalizing the use of transitioning medications to treat gender dysphoria in minors, even at the independent recommendation of a licensed pediatrician."

I stand by my decision to sign the letter. But if you'd like to grab a cup of coffee and talk about it, I'm all ears. I'd love to hear your perspective.

A little girl's $11 offering touches my heart

It was one of those moments that brings it all together.

In an instant, I was reminded of all that I believe and everything that I live for. When one outstanding young lady came forward with her offering, I felt completely washed over with a wave of “this is why I do what I do.”

Last week, our church held our annual Vacation Bible School at “Hero Central”. It was a super experience, well attended and perfectly organized, without a troubling incident.

I always love the kids and enjoy every minute of being a part of something like VBS. I know in my soul that it plants deep seeds of the Word in the fertile soil of young hearts, and what we instill begins to grow like fine wheat over one’s life journey.

At the end of one session, though, this particular little girl planted something in me. I had led one of the skits (yes, I am a ham and come by it honestly). After the song orchestrated by one of our “Harmonious Heroes”, we reminded the kids of our mission offering for the week.

We were raising funds to feed children of our community for the school year with gifts going home in their backpacks, through the “Blessings” program.

When this little girl came forward to bring her offering, she said “I have eleven dollars here. This is all of the money my sister and I made at our lemonade stand this summer.” She smiled and put it in the jar.

I have replayed that moment in my mind countless times. I am left with a lingering memory of the gentle glow of her face when she came to put her eleven dollars in the big purple container. It is as if time slowed, because it was so weighted down with meaning.

I have seen lots of unique “offering moments” in my time. In the congregation I presently serve, I witnessed a creative, lay-initiated miracle movement that raised over a million dollars to pay off our debt this year as we start dreaming about the future.

I have traveled to Ghana in Africa, where I have seen a house of worship filled with jubilant dance as people came forward to place their offerings in one of seven buckets, depending on which day of the week they were born.

I have seen a teenager be so moved by worship that she just had to give something. Since she had no money on her, she removed her brand new socks and put them in the offering plate, and she left the service in tears.

But this one takes the cake as one of the sweetest moments of innocence and beauty, of the sheer joy of giving what one had spent so much time and energy working for.

She didn’t have the words to say so, but it is as if I could peer into her pure soul and see the extreme gratitude she had for life. She was so full of blessing that she wanted to give all she had made toward making someone less fortunate have some of the essentials they need.

I wouldn’t say it was a widow’s mite, not exactly; but I would say it was a summer’s delight.

Here I am, planning my retirement finances with my wife (yes, we just finished paying my son’s last semester in college…it’s time). But at the moment, I’m more fascinated by the creativity that went into the joy of giving those eleven dollars than any speculations about my pension fund.

God gives me these moments, and I hope to treasure them.

Steve West is a husband, father, minister, musician, and writer who pastors Arab First United Methodist Church. His blog, “Musings of a Musical Preacher,” is found at www.stevewestsmusings.blogspot.com

A Graveyard in the Snow

While this year's "White Christmas" was lingering, Sandy and I took a day to go graveyard exploring. Yes, I must be getting old ... I mean, in a "new place in my spiritual development" ... because searching for ancestors and learning their stories gives me a deep sense of context.

What is it about standing on this holy ground that I find so inspiring? It is not about dirt, stone, or bone. It is about story. It's not just their story, but my own story.

We went to Williams Cove near Winchester, Tennessee. Williams Cove is 900 acres that was deeded to my three-great grandfather, Col. Sherrod Williams, by Andrew Jackson for his service in the War of 1812. His grave, along with that of his wife Mary "Poly" Looney Williams, is near the end of Williams Cove Road. It is on the far left of property behind an old white house on the left of the road, just before the last big curve before the road ends at the side of a mountain. I am a descendant of one of their sons, Absolom, whose granddaughter, Louie Williams Hamby, was my grandmother.

I'm pictured here next to Sherrod's grave, with Poly's to my right. One of their sons' graves is leaning nearby. Sherrod was a Welshman and widower who married Poly Looney, the daughter of Michael Looney, a Revolutionary War soldier, and had 18 kids.

On that same road, Goshen Cumberland Presbyterian Church has a graveyard full of Williams and Looneys. Tromping through the snow at the final resting place of many cousins gave me a deep sense of my place on the earth. None of us exist alone. We may not know their names or faces or even their stories, but those who have gone before us are part of the fiber of who we are.

Sherrod's grave is topped with a lengthy eulogy, along with the complete text of the scripture that begins "blessed are the dead who die in the Lord." Poly's grave has a finger pointing up. One expensive and the other simple, these are signs tell me of their faith. They tell me something about mine.

We ended the day swinging by Bridgeport, Alabama, to see the Mount Carmel cemetery where some of the Williams' and Arendale's in the generations between us were buried. The snow got cold and the cemetery is large, so I need to go back and find a couple more direct ancestors we didn't have time for. As dusk came, we dropped by the schoolhouse my grandmother taught in, just across from the entrance to Russell Cave. It was about dark when we got to the house just 1/2 mile past the cave entrance where another family graveyard is back in the woods. Another day. Another time.

Christmas "Blessing of the Toys"

This liturgy was published in "The Interpreter" magazine in Advent of 2011. What a serendipity that they found it online, called me, and asked if they could highlight it in their magazine. I'm honored.

Below is my original blog post and brief liturgy.

I Love Being a Father

I was looking through one of my books in my personal library the other day and found this note from my daughter. I wonder what year it was that she gave it to me as a gift. Now she is 20 years old and quickly becoming a young professional.

Sometimes little things like this reach out and touch me with deep joy! I love being a father.

Bill Cosby on Fatherhood

Today is Father's Day, and I've been reflecting lately on how integrated fatherhood has been in my spirituality. It is part of my vocation, my core identity. Much of my prayer life has been shaped by it. I just got back from a brief but fun family vacation and got a nice call from my older daughter while I was there. Fatherhood is feeling like a very good thing.

Today is a good day for a few light-hearted Bill Cosby quotes. I hope they bless your Father's Day:

"A new father quickly learns that his child invariably comes to the bathroom at precisely the times when he's in there, as if he needed company. The only way for this father to be certain of bathroom privacy is to shave at the gas station."

"Even though your kids will consistently do the exact opposite of what you're telling them to do, you have to keep loving them just as much."

"Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope."

"Having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit."

"Human beings are the only creatures on earth that allow their children to come back home."

"I guess the real reason that my wife and I had children is the same reason that Napoleon had for invading Russia: it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"If the new American father feels bewildered and even defeated, let him take comfort from the fact that whatever he does in any fathering situation has a fifty percent chance of being right."

"No matter how calmly you try to referee, parenting will eventually produce bizarre behavior, and I'm not talking about the kids. Their behavior is always normal."

"Raising children is an incredibly hard and risky business in which no cumulative wisdom is gained: each generation repeats the mistakes the previous one made."

"You know the only people who are always sure about the proper way to raise children? Those who've never had any."

The Awesome Communion Cup

I am often entertained, and sometimes quite moved, by the things children say. During worship this morning at Grace, we celebrated the Eucharist as we continued Easter joy. A mom told me that after the cup was offered to her son with the customary words, "the blood of Christ shed for you," he responded with a bright smile exclaiming "Awesome!" After he received, he turned and high fived somebody.

It was. And it is. It's awesome indeed. I wonder how many of us adults are so used to communion, so used to ritual, so used to church, and so used to Easter that we develop a selective amnesia, not so much about the meaning but about the power. It's awesome all right. It's electrifying. That cup should send us into a spine tingling frenzy of joy, because it's our cup of redemption.

I know one child who truly worshipped today.

"The do it yourself, self-help culture of North America has so thoroughly permeated our imagination that we ordinarily don't give attention to the biggest thing of all -- resurrection. And the reason we don't is because resurrection isn't something we can use or control or manipulate or improve on." - Eugene Peterson, "Living the Resurrection"

The "High Five" Benediction

Some of the kids at church never cease to entertain me and teach me about life.

On Sunday, I was closing the morning service by moving down the aisle in typical fashion, making my benediction with the traditional raised hand. I saw it in his eyes before it happened.

Liam was sitting at the end of the row and he lit up as I approached. His hand went up to match mine. In a split second, I knew exactly what was on his mind. You guessed it. I "high fived" him as I finished the words of my benediction.

And why not? Why not play as we do the work of liturgy? Why not be fully present with people where they are, connecting with them? Why not let worship come alive as we are available for "holy play"?

I'm so thankful to be a part of a church that "high fives."

What Would We Do Without Grandmothers Who Pray?

This Mother's Day, I recalled a precious story from the informal annuls of family lore and I would like to share it with you. When my mother was six years old, she stepped on a Copperhead in the woods and was bit in the foot. As you can imagine, in those days it was hard to get to the doctor quickly. By the time they got her there, some of the flesh in her ankle had been eaten away by the poison. The doctor told my grandmother that her daughter would never walk normally again.

My grandmother was a spiritual giant in many ways. She could not accept such news without the outflowing of prayer. According to my mother, my grandmother spent all night at the church in prayer before God, interceding for her daughter.

Soon after that, when they returned to the doctor and he removed the bandage, my mother remembers his shock and surprise. “I've never seen flesh heal itself like that!”

This story explains my mother's phobia about snakes. The biggest mistake in my childhood was the time I put a rubber snake in her bed! But more importantly, it illuminates the maternal faith sharing of my family. What would we do without grandmothers who pray? Where would I be?

Twenty-Five Random Things About Me

Facebook is quite a craze and I'm afraid I'm hooked. I recently posted "Twenty-Five Random Things About Me" so here they are for you!

1) In 7th grade, I won 1st place in the Jefferson County Math Tournament. My weakest subject was English. What do I do all day now, math or English? Go figure.
2) I was a terrible little league baseball player. One year I got “Most Improved Player” award … with a zero batting average.
3) I was named “Patient of the Quarter” for ReLife after doing well in therapy from knee surgery in 1993. They wrote a feature article about me. Does that make up for #2?
4) I have met two presidents, Carter and Ford. I met Dukakis too but he didn’t make it to president.
5) My father, both grandfathers, 3 cousins, and 2 uncles were Methodist preachers. My great, great, great grandfather and his 2 brothers were a trio of circuit riders named Taylor in the 1820’s. As if that were not enough, I married a Methodist preacher, and she has more than that in her own ancestry. With those genetics, my kids are in trouble.
6) My grandfather Hamby was deputized and carried pistols to the pulpit when leading a revival in the bootlegging town of State Line in the 1920’s.
7) When I first met my wife, she didn’t believe me when I told her my name. I was sitting with three other guys she already knew (all named Steve).
8) My wife is a direct descendant of Rev. Samuel Swayze, the first protestant minister in the Mississippi territory. One of his other descendants, Patrick Swayze, is Sandy’s most famous distant cousin.
9) I was called out of an audience of 5,000 to be an audience participant in the “Indiana Jones’ Stunt Spectacular” at Disney World. My shining moment in show business.
10) I am an avid Star Trek fan. What more can I say? Resistance is futile.
11) I am the proud owner of 2 four wheelers and a trailer … and know how to use them.
12) I have had 14 devotional articles or hymns published in “Alive Now,” “The Huntsville Times,” or by Abingdon Press or the General Board of Discipleship.
13) I replaced professional trombone player Harry Waters as first chair trombone at Grissom High School. Never mind that I replaced him because he graduated.
14) While we’re talking trombone, I made 2nd chair Red Band in All State.
15) There is a building at Young Harris College named after my Great Aunt and Uncle, Edna and Alva Maxwell.
16) My wife has Wests in her ancestry. Trust me, we looked into it to make sure we’re weren’t close cousins.
17) Sandy and I had our first fight the day after we had our first date. Might as well get it over with. My roommate had invited her to a party I was at, and I got insanely jealous.
18) I started a fire in my school band room in 8th grade. I didn’t mean to … I was innocently throwing a smoke bomb into a locker. It went down behind the lockers and lit the paper and valve oil. The wall went up in flames and I started yelling “fire” and ran to get the band director. They thought I was the hero and I didn’t get caught … the Fire department investigation “revealed” the reason for the fire was spontaneous combustion.
19) I stole money from the church in 8th grade. Lifted an envelope from an offering bag left in the church office. My mother had a weird feeling about it, and made me force open my locked cedar chest which had the money in it. Caught red handed.
20) That same year (punishment for #18 and #19?) my Boy Scout Troop abandoned me and my tentmate during a tornado at Stone Mountain. Each vanload thought we were in the other. Our tent blew down, and we woke to find an abandoned camp with a black swirl passing over in the sky above our heads. Pretty exciting.
21) In 8th grade, I had a major bicycle wreck (what is it about that year?). My brakes went out on a downhill slope. Avoiding a truck, I ran off the road and hit a bush. I flipped over and landed on my face in the gravel. That’s why I look this way.
22) I have Vitiligo, a skin pigmentation disorder (google it). White patches all over one knee and my rear end (TMI?). Glad it wasn’t my face or arms.
23) My first kiss was at Camp Sumatanga in 7th grade. Quite memorable … but not because it was good.
24) Actually, that wasn’t my first kiss because I kissed my cousin Linda when I was in 3rd grade. It’s not my fault, she dared me. We still call each other “kissing cousins.”
25) I became a follower of Christ at age 10, with my dad on a youth retreat at Camp Lee. I asked him if I could say something at closing worship. I shared that I had been to Sunday School and Bible School all my life, but that weekend I realized Jesus wasn’t just a storybook character, he was REAL. And that I wanted to serve him with my whole life.

What Does This Say About My Music?

Reminder of What Church Is All About

Sometimes one of my parishoners reminds me of what church is all about. Rachael teaches a children's Sunday School class and posted this article on Facebook. I asked her permission to share it on my blog. I hope it inspires you like it does me.

When my 5 year old was only 3, the church needed teachers for 2-3 year old Sunday school class. In a fit of insanity, I volunteered. I figured it would be good attention for my youngest son. After all, he spent all his time getting dragged to activities for his older brothers. Also, the church family had been wonderful. We all participated in different activities, so I figured it was my turn to contribute. I thought I could do it for a year, especially since I was splitting it with someone else.

Now, I am not sure how these things are supposed to end. But, I really don’t want it to. I have been blessed by the most amazing children. The class is very small, but the faces change over time. They change because they are growing, but they also change because they move up and new children come in.

I have done this long enough now, that I started having emotional moments of reflection. One hit me hard tonight. Joe and I were talking about girls. He complained, “Mom, there is a girl at school that always looks at me and says, ‘hi’. She is from church. I don’t know why she does that.” I started naming kids from church that I know attend his school. Finally, I guessed correctly, “Anna!” I love Anna! Anna is so sweet. I am very attached to that little girl. She used to attend my Sunday school class. One day, a couple years ago, when my boys were being typical boys, she looked at me and said, “My mom says that boys are weird.” What the boys were confirming by action, I confirmed with words. She and I have joked about it ever since.

This episode of reminiscing made me think of other kids that have been in my class and moved on. Connor was smarter than he should have been at that age, but he tried to be patient with me. It always tickled me when he would stare at me and sigh. Now when I see him somewhere else, he smiles and acts excited to see me.

Nicholas was always hilarious. His speech was delayed due to hearing problems. Being brilliant and having wonderful parents, he caught up very well. His progress was apparent one day when his mom walked in to pick him up. After she prompted him, he commanded, “Give me a minute” and turned around to continue playing. I’ve missed him and his smile since he moved up to the big boy class.

Many of the kids were shy about coming in the class at first. My beautiful Harper, with long curly hair, was one of those. She will turn 4 soon and I will miss her, too. She explained how she will have a princess party. For a month before her family vacationed in Disney World, she told me all about it. After she returned, she told me all about it. I love the way she talks about things that are important to her.

Aidan is my assistant teacher. She is actually a student, but she is very strict and could easily teach the class. I ask her to help pass out and collect supplies. She is very smart, but she runs a tight ship for such a young age group. I think she will be a strong business woman.

John is ready for college. He has a huge vocabulary. In the middle of a lesson, he will start singing a hymn. The first time, I expected him to stop after a few lines. Now, I know I have to interrupt. He will sing 4 stanzas of a complicated song whenever the spirit moves him. Also, he hasn’t seen the relevance in adding to someone’s name. While everyone else calls me “Miss Rachael”, he just says, “Rachael”. I love how he thinks for himself.

Carter is relatively new to our church. For the first few weeks, his mom stayed with him in class. He did not like to stay. When I walked in this past Sunday, he was playing like he had been here his whole life. He did a wonderful job participating and letting us get to know him better. He has the cutest little grin and he knows how to use it.

Our newest friend in the class is Bronwyn, she is so darling, but she is not used to our routine yet. She reminds me of every other child when they first moved up to Sunday school and how they grow into the class. She is more affectionate toward the water fountain than others have been. If we don’t watch her closely, she will get the little plastic dishes from the play kitchen and fill them with water.

Each of the children brings me so much joy. They are always happy to see me, whether in a restaurant, grocery store, or at church. Then I realize that I am their first Sunday school teacher. They are learning about Jesus, but they are also learning other things. They are learning to sit at a table for a lesson. They are learning to follow directions. They are learning how to color and make crafts. They are also deciding if they like coming to Sunday school. I pray that God will continue to do these things through me.

I am thankful that the parents entrust me with so much. I am thankful for the relationship that develops with each student. I am thankful for the opportunity to know the parents better. I am thankful for watching these children grow up in the church. I am thankful for what they do to my heart. I thought it was my turn to contribute, but all I do is receive. The blessings flood my life and overwhelm me with God’s love.

Can a Christian Celebrate Halloween?

Of course. However, many contemporary Christians are concerned about Halloween. Given the rise in the practice of witchcraft, the occult, and satanic worship, coupled with the fact that the deepest roots of the Halloween tradition come from an ancient pagan Celtic festival which pre-dates Christian faith, I believe that it is important that every parent have an awareness of what lies behind the Halloween tradition. Many of us will celebrate the fun and frolic this year, and how we practice and teach this cultural tradition to our children needs to be an informed decision.

There is a lot written on the subject of a Christian response to Halloween from a variety of sources, ranging from the most belligerent and judgmental to the most academic in nature. Some Christian criticism of Halloween is erroneous and inaccurate when compared with the actual roots of the festival. So here's my attempt to offer an accurate assessment of the origins of Halloween. I hope it helps Christian families make a decision on their acknowledgement of the holiday.

Origins of Halloween

Contrary to some Christian criticism, Halloween did not originate as a satanic festival but as religious in nature (though it was the Celtic faith of ancient Druids rather than Christianity). This is an important distinction, for any association between Halloween and satanic worship is a modern phenomenon. In Celtic faith, there was no real concept of heaven or hell. Some fundamentalist sources have called Halloween a festival worshipping the devil or a “demonic god of death”, which is not accurate. Halloween is a descendant of the ancient Celtic new year festival of Samhain, a feast of the dead signaling the close of the harvest and the initiation of winter. There is no evidence that Samhain was considered a deity as claimed. The Celts believed that when people died, they went to a land of eternal happiness called Tir nan Og. It was believed that at Samhain, the turn of the new year, the separation between Tir nan Og and our world was at its thinnest, and the living could communicate with their beloved dead.

The origins of what we call "trick or treating" come from the most ancient form of the festival. Celts did not have demons and devils in their belief system. But they did imagine that fairies, neither bad nor good, would roam the lands between the worlds of the living and peaceful dead (in a sort of "purgatory"). Resentful of humans moving about their lands, they would try to trick them. Bonfires were lit to ward off the mythical figures. Humans would cause mischief and imitate or dress up like these fairies, going from house to house begging for treats, which usually amounted to food or milk. The people who roamed abroad would sometimes carry turnips carved with faces with a candle inside to scare away the "real" fairies and also light their way. This is the origin of the Jack-o-Lantern.

Little else is known about the festival, except that it was an important transition into the new year, with party-like fervor like modern new year celebrations. It is true that in its most ancient practice there was probably animal and possibly human sacrifice, not unlike other pagan religious practice of the ancient world. There is also evidence of divination and playful fortune telling practices, which is the origin of "bobbing for apples" (the first to bite was the next to get married, like the modern toss of the wedding bouquet).

While there is historical evidence of ancient occult practice and what we now call witchcraft in the origins of Halloween, these practices were consistent with ancient pagan religious life according to their world-view. In recent decades, satanic and cultic groups have claimed Halloween as a "holy day,” but Christian accusations concerning demonism or satanic worship in the ancient festival are simply not accurate.

All Saints' Day - a Day of the Church

One of the most wonderful things we can do in the church is use the occasion of Halloween to teach about All Saints' Day. The Church practice of All Saints Day developed in the seventh century A.D. It was originally called the Feast of the Holy Martyrs and developed independently of Samhain to praise God and honor the deceased of the Christian faith. Yet centuries later (the A.D. 800's), the day was assigned to November 1 to coincide with, yet by no means adopt, what had continued as a local harvest festival. This sort of dating was not unusual. Christmas, for example, was set on December 25 to coincide with and alter the meaning of a pagan holiday celebrated as the winter solstice Festival of the Unconquered Sun. Even the English word "Easter" reflects the name of a pagan cultural festival originally associated with the season.

Modern churches practice All Saints' and All Saints' Sunday (the first Sunday after November 1) and remember all those who have gone before us in the faith and our spiritual connection between all the "saints" of earth and those that have gone to heaven. We celebrate in the spirit of the book of Hebrews 11 and 12 and remember the "cloud of witnesses" that give us energy to carry on the work of the gospel.

An interesting twist on all this is that the name "Halloween" is actually derived from its later association with All Saints, formerly called "All Hallows" during Medieval times. October 31 became called "All Hallows Eve" and the name was later shortened to "Halloween."

The Christian and Halloween

You and your family can decide what is appropriate for you as Halloween is celebrated in our culture, and I don't propose a singular solution. You may want to consider alternatives, some of which may be subtle (dressing up in "good character" costumes not associated with evil, displaying harvest pumpkins, or having family parties). I would certainly suggest using the holiday to teach children about the triumph in Christ of good over evil and the joy and celebration of All Saints. Churches, too, could consider some form of an alternative witness through festivals, food drives, or trunk parties rather than participating in the darker side of Halloween. In any case, it is always important for God's people to resist all serious association with the scary, the superstitious, and anything that gives credence to the occult.

Letting the Word Transform Us Over Time

This week was Vacation Bible School and I enjoyed it. I leaned over to a friend while joining most of our 120 VBS kids in singing to reflect on what I love most about VBS. It's spiritual formation. It is letting the Word wash over you as you sing it, play it, pray it, act it, and move to it. It’s not learning a particular verse on a particular night that changes these kids, but a lifetime of being shaped by the Word. There’s nothing wrong with the "adult world" of studying, debating, arguing, and wrestling with the scripture. But the reason Jesus called us to have faith like a child is that faith is not believing what you’ve figured out. It’s believing what you can’t see. Faith leads us back to this, the simple trust of immersing ourselves in the Word and letting it transform us over time into the image of Christ.

Because It's Even Worse

One of the children Sunday said something hilarious. “I’m glad we didn’t have children’s church today, because it’s even worse.” Humored, I engaged him, “even worse, huh?” “Yes, because at children’s church I have to sit still and stuff. In here, we get to climb under the seats and move around!” I'm amused and I’d like to invite your musings. Stats show a large percentage of boys will not attend when they grow up. How could church be more fun? Or should it be? How can we hold two values in tension when it comes to kids, the values of holiness and hospitality? Where is the balance?