Yes, I'm an unabashed Panther fan.  Yes, I know eyes are rolling on the other side of computer screens.

I'm cool with that.  These are exciting times in the Carolinas, folks.  We have a team playing in the Super Bowl.  And while the winning certainly facilitates our enthusiasm, it's the intangibles that really have us hooked.  This team has personality.  This team has drive.  This team has fun!

So pardon me a few minutes of fandom, but when I look at the Carolina Panthers in their current incarnation, I see some qualities that all leaders - including those in the church - could learn something from.

LEADERS USE THEIR INNATE SKILLS WHILE LEARNING NEW ONES
Cam Newton came into the league as a bit of a freak of nature - a QB built more like a running back.  This was supposedly the "new NFL quarterback" prototype that would move the position away from a traditional "pocket passer."  Cam fit this new model to a "t."  Problem was, running QBs who don't learn to run judiciously get beat up and see their careers end prematurely (see: RG III, Michael Vick).  

So Cam worked with his QB coach to learn to be a better pocket passer.  It wasn't always pretty - balls soaring well above wide open receivers were a common occurrence the past few Panther seasons.  But this year, things seemed to click. He became a legit pocket passer, while at the same time still able to burn you with a strong run to get a first down - or more.  Which is certainly keeping the Denver defense up at nights over the next two weeks.

I've written before for NEXT Church about the need for pastors to be able to stand with one foot in "tradition" and the other in change.  This is not easy, but very necessary.  If we come in and try to immediately change everything, chances are we're going to get pretty beat up.  But to simply lead the church where it's always comfortably been isn't good, either.  We have to be skilled at doing both, or at the very least intentionally learn how to be.

EVERYONE ON THE TEAM IS A VALUED MEMBER OF THE TEAM
In case you haven't heard, Panthers owner Jerry Richardson is paying for all support staff and interns in the Panthers organization to attend Super Bowl 50 - travel, accommodations, tickets, the whole thing.  For the record, he also did this the last time they made the Super Bowl, in 2004.  

Call it a PR stunt if you want, and Richardson certainly has deep pockets, but it should be noted that this is not something NFL owners typically do.  He chose to do this.  Which, as a friend of mine commented, makes us wish we had applied for that stadium sweeper job.  

In all seriousness, it sends a very powerful and important message - the team is more than just the 50+ players on the field.  It makes me happy to think that Jason (the guy who contacted me about doing the invocation at their first playoff game a few weeks ago) and Allyson (the lovely staffer who served as my family's escort during our on-field time) are heading to Santa Clara with Cam, Luke and the others.

Churches are notorious for making both successes and setbacks about one person or a small group of people - the pastor, the session, etc.  A true culture of leadership recognizes that every person involved needs to be held accountable and get credit when things go well.

GOING THE EXTRA MILE WHEN YOU REALLY DON'T HAVE TO
Panthers star linebacker Luke Kuechly is an amazing player, but seemingly an even better person, as this story lays testimony to.  I showed this video at a church staff meeting last week and paused it in that moment right after Luke accepted the car with thanks.   I asked the staff, what are some possible scenarios of how this might play out going forward?  Responses were as expected: he could simply move on to the next kid, he could toss the car in the trash when he got out of the kid's view, etc. etc.  Then I started the video again.  And we watched Luke, in a brief moment of pause, seem to make a conscious choice to take things a step further with the kid - going off script, as it were, and kind of let things play out themselves.  And that changed the whole scene from simply being a neat gesture on the kid's part to a transformative experience for both.  I love thinking about that kid at the school lunch table the next day: Yeah, I got Luke's gloves, but my signed Pinewood Derby car is on display in his locker right now.

In church we have a lot of practices/policies/procedures that give us direction and tell us what we need to do in most any situation.  And that's certainly ministry.  But a deeper ministry can happen when we go off-script - take the common practice a step further and see where it leads us.  More and more I'm convinced these opportunities are around us all the time - that casual conversation in the hallway, a moment in worship, a session meeting.  Our job is to remain alert so we see them when they materialize and let the Spirit do its thing through us.

WHEN SOMEONE GOES DOWN, SOMEONE ELSE STEPS UP
Football is a tough sport and guys get injured all the time.  Star players, too.  Often this affect's a team's success.  At the beginning of the year before even the first game, star wide receiver Kelvin Benjamin was lost for the season, leaving a cadre of no-names and castoffs to fend for themselves.  Those guys, as it turned out, banded together and proved to be a more than adequate receiving corps.  There was no single breakout star in the bunch, but together they helped take the team to a 17-1 record.

Churches stay, but ministers and staff come and go.  The sign of a strong church is one where a church's well-being and future don't hinge on who comes and goes.  A strong sense of team and vision provides the continuity a church needs.  And if there's a strong sense of team and vision, good people will always be drawn to the mix.  

THIS TEAM HAS FUN, AND IT'S CONTAGIOUS
I feel for Cam.  All he wants is to enjoy the ride, and yet people are raking him over the coals.  How dare he dance in the end zone, do the dab, give footballs to kids!  

Admittedly more than a little biased on this and fully acknowledging that #1 is a bit of a showboat, I still have a hard time understanding the Tennessee Moms and Seattle petition guy.  This quarterback isn't accused of taking performance-enhancing drugs or beating his girlfriend.  And while his wardrobe choices are slightly suspect, and naming your kid "Chosen" certainly takes some chutzpah, I'm convinced that he really is just enjoying the moment, eagerly sharing it with teammates and an entire city.  

In fact, the very act of giving footballs to kids is worth note.  Cam started it himself - run for a TD, give the ball to a kid in the stands.  If a wide receiver or running back scored, they'd give the ball to Cam so he could do his thing.  Then one game, wide receiver Devin Funchess (gotta love the name) caught a TD and handed it to Cam.  But Cam declined it, pointed to him and then the end zone crowd.  The message was clear through my TV set: No, you give it away! It's a blast!  Now, it's rare that Cam does the actual football-sharing himself.  Setting a standard and then letting everyone else in on the fun is shared leadership at its best.

The church deals with a lot of heavy things - life and death, sin and salvation, kingdom-building, heavy social hot-button issues, all on a tight budget.  That's serious stuff.  But sometimes I wonder if we wind up taking ourselves too seriously, and not the God we claim to serve.  Ministry should be fun, and we should find enjoyment in each other and the ministry we are called to carry out, always seeking to share that joy with whomever.  After all, joy is biblical.

And as an example of said joy, I dare you to tell me this doesn't brighten your day:

Go church.  Go Panthers.  Keep Pounding.

Today is All Saints Day.  It's had different extrapolations over the past two thousand years, but in modern Protestant form it's a day when we remember those in the family of faith who've died in the past year.  At my church, we read their names out loud in worship. This is my first All Saints Day at Trinity, and I'll admit that I'm looking forward to it.

For some, this may seem a heavily somber occasion. But I don't think that's its intention.  In reality, there's a much thinner line between death and life than we typically feel - meaning, the distance between our deceased loved ones and us is not as great as we sometimes think.  Americana folk/pop group Delta Rae hit the nail on the head with this, if you ask me, with their song "Dance In The Graveyards." Watch the video below (or HERE). I dare you not to smile. Maybe even tear up a bit.

For all the saints, y'all.

Members and friends of Trinity Presbyterian Church (and anyone else who's interested):

As promised in worship this past Sunday, I want to share some thoughts on the 221st General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA) in Detroit last week.  Every two years, our denomination’s largest governing body convenes with elders and ministers from all over the country, elected by their presbyteries, to formulate some of the policies and procedures that define us as Presbyterians.  Because we're all part of one big Presbyterian family, I feel it’s important that you know what happens at these gatherings and in what ways they affect us as a congregation and as a larger denominational church.

But first, take a few minutes to read this one page summary, A Brief Summary of the 221st General Assembly, as it'll help make what follows a lot easier to digest.

(Did you read it? Seriously, it's worth it.  You'll thank me later. Did I mention it's just one page?)

There are two things I'd like to draw your attention to, as both received a decent amount of national and international press.  The first is the issue of same-sex marriage.  As you may recall, in 2010 the General Assembly voted to remove language from our constitution that prohibited gays and lesbians from being ordained to ministry.  This year, the body acted positively on two similar motions.  One, known as “Authoritative Interpretation,” grants clergy in our denomination the ability, if they choose, to officiate at a same-sex wedding in states where the practice is legal (this went into affect immediately after the conclusion of the GA). The second, which will need ratification of a simple majority of presbyteries in the coming year, is a rewording of the description of marriage from “a man and a woman” to “two people (traditionally a man and a woman) Both passed with significant majorities.  

So, two things. First, neither of these force a pastor or session to officiate or host a same-sex marriage if they don't want to - all it does is grant the ability to those who do.  Second, you should know that great care was taken leading up to, during and following the vote to reach out to those in opposition, in an attempt to foster unity in the midst of disagreement.  In fact, the parenthesis part of the motion was inserted on the floor of the General Assembly and was received very positively by those displeased with the overall change.  Following the vote, a joint letter from the Presbyterians For Renewal and Fellowship of Presbyterians was issued, expressing disappointment while reaffirming their desire to remain part of the PCUSA (you can read that letter HERE).  It was an extremely gracious gesture and, I hope, will go to great lengths to foster ongoing dialogue and unity, even as we may continue to disagree.  

Another big issue addressed at the GA involved divesting the church’s investments in three American companies, Caterpillar, Hewlett-Packard and Motorola.  The denomination's Mission Responsibility Through Investment Committee (MRTI) had determined that their business practices and products serve to foster the ongoing conflict on the West Bank between Israelis and Palestinians.  If you've been part of the PCUSA for a while, you know our denomination has a strong ethical sense to its various financial holdings, choosing to invest in companies that promote peace and the well-being of all (we do not invest in tobacco or alcohol companies, for instance). The MRTI had reached out to a number of companies to share our concerns and encourage positive change; and while some of these conversations proved fruitful, our dialogue with these three businesses did not.  The measure was close and passed by only seven votes.

Almost immediately after the vote, the press, as well as numerous groups fiercely entrenched on either side of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, cast this action as a slight to Israel and a clear siding with the Palestinians - even though the motion itself affirms Israel’s right to exist as a sovereign nation and PCUSA's support of a two-state solution (you can read the text of the motion HERE). Some of the fallout the PCUSA will face in the months ahead will involve mending bridges with our Jewish brothers and sisters, explaining in full our reasons and rationale and assuring them of what this action was not about, as much as what it was about.  I personally found this blog post to be very helpful in understanding this action and encourage you to check it out, and I'm grateful for this rabbi who seems to get what we Presbyterians are trying to do.

I can almost hear the question on the other side of the computer screen: So, Steve, what do you make of all of this?  Good question.  Three thoughts come to mind.  First, both of these actions feel, to me, to be honest, thoughtful and faithful efforts to uphold and act on the tenets of scripture and our unique Presbyterian witness; as well as what I believe to be our primary calling:  to always err on the side of the love of Jesus, even if that might cause hurt and confusion and make people mad.  As a pastor, I feel compelled to acknowledge this and seek reconciliation with my brothers and sisters in and out of the church who may feel differently from me and fear these actions will lead to future declines in our denomination.  I actually remain very hopeful that the opposite will be true (as echoed in this blog post from a colleague and fellow Presbyterian minister).

Having said that, I know there are those in our church and the PCUSA who grieve one or both of these decisions and may question their future in the denomination. Which leads me to my second thought: my door is always open to sit down and talk.  The promise I make to you is not to try and sway your opinion, but simply to listen and be your pastor and friend.  And, as I did in 2010 in my previous church, I'd ask anyone significantly grieved to give themselves six months: six months to remain active in the church, worshipping, fellowshipping, and serving as you always have. And if, at the end of six months, you truly feel something has categorically changed in the church, then you will leave with my blessing.  If, however, you find that you don't feel any different about our church, then perhaps we can at least agree that amendments to open the door for same-sex marriage and further our commitment to peacemaking were not amendments that destroyed the church.

My third thought is this: regardless of how we feel about these decisions, I find myself staunchly proud to be part of this denomination; if for no other reason than it can never be said that we are a church that sits on the sidelines; bypassing and avoiding the tough, hard conversations and issues that matter in our world today.  We tackle them head-on; we talk and listen, pray and ponder, dialogue and disagree and converse.  And then we act.  And if there’s anything the world today needs, my friends, it is a church that is not afraid to act - always in good faith, always with Christ leading the way. My hope and prayer is that we’ll continue in helpful dialogue, within and outside the PCUSA, to further discern God’s will as we worship, study and serve together.

Again, if you have any questions or concerns, my door is always open!

Your pastor and friend,

Every Easter morning, as I drive to church, I have a ritual. I listen to "Easter Song" by Keith Green.  In my former church, one play got me from driveway to parking space. This year, it took a few more times - probably would've been two, had their not been an accident on Providence Road that caused me to go a bit out of my way. Winding through neighborhoods I've never been in before, the sun peeking through the early morning haze leftover from a rainy Saturday onto manicured green lawns and budding azalea bushes.  A new experience, one of many. 

Still, it's Easter nonetheless; and it is glorious.  And I'm reminded: every Sunday is Easter.

(Click HERE if you don't see the video above)

I've come to the conclusion that airport terminals - like the one I'm sitting in right now waiting for my flight back to Charlotte - are a lot like NEXT Church conferences. Throw a vast assortment of people in one place, people from all different places and heading toward all different destinations, and see what happens.  Somehow things just seem to work out.  And the reason is because we're all doing the same thing: we're on a journey.

This is my second national NEXT Church conference, and "journey" - though a woefully overused faith word (present company included) - is still an appropriate image.  Because even when you know  where you're going, you quickly find out there are innumerable ways to get there.   Take the first leg of my journey from Charlotte to Minneapolis, where this year's NEXT conference concluded mere hours ago.  There was a direct flight, but it got canceled.  I had to wait a full day and go through LaGuardia to get here.  If that sounds undesirable it still was better than the Charlotte-to-Miami-to-Minneapolis route they proposed.  

Missing the first day of NEXT had me a little off-kilter and discombobulated the rest of the conference - the stuff I got to be part of was great, but I always had this feeling lurking inside me like I had missed the foundation, because I had.  It was a tad frustrating.  But guess what?  The church can be frustrating too, when everything around it is changing so fast; when we feel like we missed something.  Mainline churches today are experiencing dramatic cultural shifts faster than you can say the word "postmodern."  The arrivals and departures are all over the map; and they're affecting attendance, giving, and commitment. Some choose to view it as a sinking ship that you either disembark as soon as possible, or go down with as the loyal sea captain.  NEXT Church, however, chooses to see these as birth pangs of something exciting and transformative.  And when you attend these NEXT workshops and seminars and hear some of the amazingly creative, faithful things that churches are doing, it's hard not to rejoice a little bit.  Because you sense there's something substantive and meaningful there, and you want to dig into it more.

I believe in NEXT because I still believe the church has relevance.  I believe people want the church and need the church to bear witness in the world.  This is not the time for the church to try and be something it used to be, or even something it never was. Nor is this the time for the church to "sell out" to the culture in an attempt to fill up pews and offering plates.  This is a time for the church to do exactly what Jesus did and what he would do still today: in the words of the prophet Jeremiah (our scripture for the conference): Seek the welfare of the city, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jeremiah 29:7)

I'm ready to get back to my city and, with the wonderful folks at Trinity, do just that.  But first, one final flight and maybe a little sleep too.

Ever since  the Kansas state legislature wrestled with and 1/2 approved this bill that would legalize discrimination against gays and lesbians under the guise of "religious freedom," I've been doing a lot of thinking.  Not on my opinion about it, but the words to best verbalize that opinion.  As I've been doing this, other states - most notably Arizona - are taking up similar measures.  The Arizona case is particularly troubling, as both houses of the state government have approved the measure and the only thing standing in the way of it becoming law is a veto from hardcore conservative governor Jan Brewer.

I think the hardest part to understand has been the use (or misuse) of the phrase "religious freedom."  Those two words are constantly referenced by the bill's proponents; obviously #1 at the top of the talking point memo.  This concept hearkens back to the founding fathers/mothers of our country; people who left a place where they were told how to worship and practice their beliefs by an oppressive patriarchy; the chilling merger of church and politics.  What our forbearers sought when they came here was freedom from religion to practice their faith the way they wanted to.

The bill's use of the phrase is something else entirely: it's not freedom from religion that's being sought; it's freedom to inject religion into some of the basic interactions and relationships that undergird the bedrock of society.  Interactions and relationships, incidentally, that are not inherently religious in nature.  Goods and services, the hum of the marketplace - they depend on the equal participation of all.  And yet the Kansas/Arizona/Next State bill seeks to erect barriers to this in the name of "religious freedom."  This is not at all what our ancestors envisioned - in fact, it is precisely the thing they were trying to get away from.

The quick retort, of course, is that being forced to interact with people you don't want to, in spite of your religious beliefs, qualifies as "religious persecution."  Once again, a misuse of a common catchphrase.   True religious persecution occurs when the primary political/cultural power of the day lords that power over a politically/culturally weaker subgroup.  As the cultural architects of much of Western society, American Christians can hardly play the victim game.  It may not be easy being the church today, but our struggles certainly don't come from religious persecution or threats to our religious freedom.  In short, we're not being burned at the stake.

All of this has been rolling around in my head the past few weeks, trying to find a way out.  It finally did - last night, in seven words on a TV screen.   The family and I were out for dinner, and a television in the far corner of the restaurant was showing cable news.  The segment was on the Arizona bill and a supporter - a pizzeria owner -  who referenced "religious freedom" as the reason he'd deny service to some, and that doing so was his way of serving God.  This, followed by the beautifully simple counter-voice of a protestor; their words in big bold letters across the bottom of the screen:

"You're not serving God, you're serving pizzas."

Let's forget for a moment that Jesus himself not only shared company with people who were different from him, but actively sought out interaction and lifelong relationships with those folks.  Let's forget the common human dignity for all people that lies at the heart of a high-functioning, civil society.

Let's just focus on this: we in the community of faith serve God best not by rigidly adhering to our objective beliefs based on a selective reading of scripture.  We serve God, ultimately, in the way that Jesus himself directed us to: Inasmuch as you have done it to the least of these, you have done it to me.

Pizza, anyone?

Okay, be honest: if you somehow were able to see this picture before this past Sunday, what would you think it'd be of?  Probably some mega-church/contemporary worship service in America, complete with professional-grade stage and lights, a churchy setup, and a throng of excited, spirit-filled worshippers standing on the tips of their toes, right?

Wrong.  It's the backdrop for the much-talked about Macklemore & Ryan Lewis' Grammy performance of  "Same Love," followed by Queen Latifah overseeing the marriage of thirty-some gay and straight couples.  True, the set kind of got lost in the shuffle; the cameras zooming in for closeups on singers and performers and newlyweds.  But it was there, very noticeably there; the television audience catching it in bits and pieces and immediately realizing what would be rehashed on talk shows in the days that followed: a statement was being made.

My first reaction to the church backdrop was admittedly not a positive one, and it had nothing to do with the statement.  It was the knee-jerk response of someone who's been raised in the church and now makes it their calling: that the backdrop was just a backdrop and nothing more.  It was there to fit the bill (the tune certainly has a gospel vibe) and to somehow add an air of legitimacy to the weddings.  Which, as an aside, is interesting; since I do just about as many weddings outside the church as I do in it.  

So my initial negative reaction: it's just a prop and nothing more.  And that got me a little defensive, to be honest, because despite all its warts I personally love the church and consider it to be more than a prop.  It also made me sad, because my heart aches that a whole swath of folks have not shared the same experience with church that I have. 

But a few days later, my thinking evolved.  I thought about the fact that these Grammy people were under no obligation to use this particular backdrop.  They could've just as easily erected a beautiful mountain scene or winery landscape or personal backyard grillout or country club golf course or any other outside-the-church locale I've had the pleasure of officiating weddings (my personal favorite : two people in their mid-40's on a boat in the middle of Lake Norman. Also my first wedding).   

I also realized that this whole event - the music, the wedding, the statement - was a celebration.   The intended joyful atmosphere was clear from the start.  Macklemore, jumping up and down, noticeably enthused to the core.  Singer Mary Lambert, beaming.  Queen Latifah's smile, large enough to be picked up by satellites orbiting earth.  And, of course, the couples themselves; filled with the joy of anyone who has just been united in the bonds of marriage.  You can argue politics or theology or cultural divide; you can even argue the downside of "wedding-as-show" (which is at the heart of the "let's-avoid-the-Broadway-production" conversation I have with brides and grooms to be) but you can't argue the one thread coursing through it all, tying it together: unbridled and pure joy and celebration.

And it all took place "in church."  

I've said before that I truly believe today's generation wants very much for the church to get it right, in some ways demonstrating more hope in us than we have in ourselves.  They would love, absolutely love, to see today's church succeed in living out its mission to help build God's kingdom on earth.  And I maintain that they would come in droves if we did that.

And that's what I began to take away from this Grammy performance the more I thought about it: they were sending us a message.  A very clear and hopeful message about what they long for church to be, what they need it to be, what they want it to be.  And here's what I think they might have been trying to say to us: 

We want church to be a celebration.  And they're not talking about style.  This isn't a "contemporary-worship-or-nothing" ultimatum.  It's a deeper issue.  Can traditional worship be boring, and can contemporary worship be exciting?  Yep and yep.  At the same time, I've been to plenty of traditional services that, through their liturgy and flow, exuded joy; and I've experienced contemporary styles of worship that felt too showy, too forced, too routine.  What this generation is looking for is a genuine joy of the gathering, worship style aside.  Which leads to the next message:

We want a church that's authentic. Nothing frustrates this generation more than coming to church and feeling as if they're an audience member rather than part of a body;  an exercise in ritual instead of participants in the movement.  They want church to feel real.  And not just to them, but to the person sitting next to them - because they understand (sometimes better than we do) that faith isn't a solo excursion but a group journey. If church being "real" causes you to think about the Velveteen Rabbit story, go with it.  That's exactly the thing they're looking for.

We want a church that lives out its convictions instead of just talking about them.  The Grammy performance displayed this model as clear as day: they talked about the power of love in a song, and then they actually did something with that conviction.  Action must follow beliefs, they're telling us, or the beliefs mean little more than some common ideologies that bind like-minded people together in a group.  They like the country club when it's time to play golf with their buddies or go swimming with a few families on a hot summer day.  But when it comes to making a difference in the world, the country club won't cut it.  The church needs to.

We want a church that loves and accepts everyone - even us, and especially those not like us.  Granted, not every church is ready for this.  And there's the rub.  Still, this generation will make a pretty good case that doing so is following in the footsteps of Jesus himself.  Disagree?  You can certainly argue it.  What you can't do is ignore it.

Years ago, when my state was voting on an amendment to define marriage in fairly restrictive terms, a small church I would pass every day on the way to the boys' school had two signs in their front yard.  The first was a campaign sign expressing unmitigated support for the restrictive amendment; the church making clear where it stood.  The other was the church marquee, literally just a few feet away, advertising their upcoming Bible School with the tag line: "All Are Welcome."  This generation picks up on these contradictions much faster than we in the church do, and it drives them absolutely nuts.

I'm not saying the church needs to start modeling its music, worship style and ceremonies after an seven-minute Grammy performance.  Macklemore can drop a pretty sweet line or two and Queen Latifah's smile makes me smile, but I'm not going to invite either to fill the pulpit next time I'm on vacation.  And you know what?  I don't think this generation wants me to, either.

What they want from the church is faith, hope and love; and the joyful life each of those things leads us to live.  Come to think of it, that sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?

Like a lot of churches, my new church sends a monthly newsletter to members and friends, including a letter from the pastor.  Having been on the field for barely two months, I chose to share my "Pastor Top Eight" (I was shooing for ten but couldn't come up with two others).  My goal with this is to help facilitate the relationship-building and trust I'm working on in these first few months, giving my new congregation an idea of who I am as a person and the kind of pastor I long to be.  

I rather enjoyed the exercise - so much that I'd encourage you to come up with a Top 8 as well - or 5, or 10, or 20.  What things matter most to you?  What guiding principles define how you live your life?  Share in the comments section below if you like.

Anyway, I now present to you...

MY PASTOR TOP EIGHT

1. Call me Steve.  Some churches instinctively use more formal titles to address their pastors.  Often it is simply out of respect, but it can inadvertently create a sense of distance.  I am happy and content with all members - children, youth and adults - calling me by my first name.  After all, we’re in this together!

2. My door is always open, literally and figuratively.  You may have noticed that I moved my desk into the larger room of the pastor’s study.  This way I am more accessible. If the door is closed - a rare occurrence - it probably means I’m on a phone call or in a private meeting.  Other than that, you are welcome to drop in and say hi.  I always encourage folks to call the church in advance before coming by to see me specifically - that way I can make sure to be available to you (and you can always sign up with Becky for one of the Thursday morning coffees). 

3. My calling to be a good husband and good father is as important to me as my calling to be a good pastor.  Incidentally, this does not mean that serving you is any less of a priority - in fact, I’ve found that, by always striving to honor my family relationship and responsibilities, I’m a much better pastor to and with you.

4.  I will make mistakes.  As I do, I hope you will let me know so I can keep from making it again. No one likes to admit they make mistakes. But I can promise you that at some point, I will.  I’m also pretty sure that, at some time, I will do something that may upset you.  By coming to me and letting me know personally, you give me a tremendous gift: an opportunity to grow as a pastor and to build a stronger relationship with you.

5. We’re a team!  If you haven’t noticed already, my leadership style with staff and the session centers around a team approach that is founded in mutual trust and respect, and keeping open lines of communication.  My experience is that a church functions at a much higher level, and lives into its vision more efficiently, when this is the case.

6.  The church is not here to meet people's needs, the church is here to meet God's needs.  I once read about a minister who would share this at the beginning of their church’s new member class.  It caught people off-guard at first, but eventually they came to see the truth in it.  I believe churches that understand the heart of this put themselves in a much better position to grow and thrive.  The great thing? When we focus on meeting God’s needs first - in the church, community and world - we find our own needs are met as well!

7. I believe we in the church are called to respond to God's amazing grace and love in three ways:

• Giving our TIME (being present in the body of Christ)
• Giving our TALENT (putting our individual, unique gifts in practice for the church’s ministry)
• Giving our TREASURE (our financial response)

My goal, through my preaching, pastoring, and leading, is to live this out in my own life while equipping you to do the same. 

8.  Love will guide the way.  The guiding force in everything I do as your pastor - preaching, teaching, pastoral care, staff empowerment, church visioning - will always be centered in the love of Jesus and sharing and fostering that love.  If I err, I will always do my best to err on the side of love.

My friends, the world is an ever-darkening place -
Shine the light!
We are a broken, hurting people -
Shine the light!
Our flame is small and always in danger of flickering out - 
Shine the light!
Shine the light into this dark, broken, hurting world.
Shine the light into our wayward, fragile hearts.
Shine the light on a tiny manger in tiny Bethlehem,
And a young mother and father.
And all the unexpectedness of God's arrival.
The day is always darkest before the dawn -
The Light shines in the darkness
And the darkness will never, never,
Never put it out.
Shine the light!

And so: you are no longer Advent people
You are now a Christmas people!
So as you go,
Live simply
Love generously
Speak truthfully
Pray daily
Let God's light shine
And leave everything else to God.  
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,
Amen.
Merry Christmas!!