Ministering in Community: Loving When You're Not Loved Back

Image via WikipediaThis is my 11th year in Girdwood.  We've loved it here.  The church has been challenging and fun.  The construction project has been long and a valuable learning experience.  I think I've grown a lot here…as a person and a pastor.  We know this is the place that our kids (at least the three older ones) have grown up.  I often say that, as persons grow older, I think there's always some place that they think of as "home" to themselves…even if they may have lived in several different towns or states.  I may have been born in Massachusetts, I may have graduated high school in Indiana, I may have gone to seminary in North Carolina, and I may have lived in Alaska for the last 13 years, but I'm always clear that I "grew up in New York."  That's where I had my formative childhood years, from age 5-15,  Well, my kids will, maybe forever, say they grew up in Girdwood, Alaska.  How awesome is that?

Plus, Girdwood is just strikingly beautiful.  The mountains creep right in on you.  You can ski and watch the tide roll in.  And while we get a lot of rain, being that we're in the most northern temperate rain forest in the world, the beautiful days make up for it.  I still remember the first visit my parents made to Girdwood after our three years in Kenai.  I stood with my dad on the porch of our new home we were renting and he said, "You know, Jim, don't take this for granted.  You may never live in a more beautiful place than this."  And he's right.  There are a lot of beautiful places in the world and I've seen several of them.  But, I may never live in a more beautiful place than this.

I know that faith up in Alaska, in the realm of "rugged individualism," can be a difficult thing.  Persons here tend not to be "joiners" and many of them have been burned by churches in the Lower-48 where they used to live and are really hoping to stay as far away from church as they can.  Therefore, I have worked very hard to carry myself in such a way that I'd be seen as non-threatening in the community.  I've participated in the life of the community.  I've served on boards and attended meetings.  I've raised my kids, fully engaging the activities of the community for them.  And our congregation has worked very hard at being seen as a source of good in the community…we've painted and cleaned and shoveled and given and helped etc.  We want to be seen as a place that emanates the love of God, but in a way that works alongside those not in the church to bring about change for the common good.  The difference, we hope, between us and the non-Christians, is that we do it all out of a response to the justification by faith offered by Christ.  We live out out faith by being a people working on behalf of others in the community.  And it's made a difference.  It is easier to be me…a pastor…today than it was ten years ago.  I've been around long enough that persons, I don't think, feel like they have to be on their guard when they see me.

However…

I've been surprised, along the way, by the level of animosity expressed by some (not all) members of the community.  And sometimes I have to catch myself, recognizing that it's not about me but about the church.  And it's really probably not about Jesus, but about the experiences some have had of the church.

My first, sort of, tangible expression of the "us/them" mentality was early on as our congregation's event flyers were taken down from the post office.  Girdwood is a community that communicates through posted notices at the Post Office.  If you want to find out what band is playing where, who has skis for sale, who's hiring, and what meeting is coming up, that's the place to look.  It's also the place you'd look to find out what the times of Christmas worship services are.  However, more frequently in my early years here, it was the Girdwood Chapel posters that kept getting taken down.  I'd put up a flyer.  The next day it was gone.  I'd keep extra flyers in my car just so I could keep replacing the ones that had been removed.  At one point I had congregational members with flyers so they could put them up as well…just to keep up with those who were removing the flyers.

Another expression of this animosity really hit me on on a spiritual level.  One day as I showed up to our new construction, probably in 2007 and opened up the construction door only to find feces…yes, poop…on the handle.  Someone had deliberately put poop on the door so that a person going in would grab on to it.  There was also garbage and beer bottles left at the front door that day as well.  I remember, looking back, the feelings of anger…I'll go so far to say "righteous anger"…welling up inside of me.  I felt violated.  I felt that the Holy Ground of our church had been violated, that there was a spiritual offense launched against it.  I didn't know what to do and I ran off to the home of one of our members to pray.  I needed someone to pray for me.   I wanted to pray for the community…perhaps for "the horrible sinners who did this"...even if the prayer ended up being mostly for me.

There have been others. But the latest comes just a couple of weeks ago as we're getting ready for our big Building Consecration.   Every week we have about 70-100 persons come to the church to pick up boxes of organic vegetables.  We've been doing this for a few years, providing space and leaving the church unlocked for 2.5 days a week.  Plus, we're left to work around the vegetables every once in a while and donate unclaimed boxes after a couple days.  This has been a service to the community…just because we love the community and believe that, even if we don't agree on many spiritual issues, we can agree that eating organic, more locally-produced, food is a good thing for the world and for the world's peoples.  I wanted to make sure that all these good folks who picked up vegetable boxes knew about our Consecration and I wanted to let them know that, as we've been helping them for a couple years with the vegetable pick-up, it would be helpful to our church if they came to our Consecration.  It would help us celebrate and would help the conversation we were planning to have about ways our new building could be used in the future.  It might be a little crass to call it a "quid pro quo" arrangement, but I was hoping that the gift of presence and space that we had been offering could come back to us a gift of their presence at our Consecration.   That was my hope.  So, to encourage this, I put what I thought was a very non-threatening and non-religious note on the vegetable boxes, inviting those who picked them up to attend our Consecration.

Perhaps my note wasn't non-threatening enough.  A couple days later I got a call from the distributor of the boxes saying that they had receive a call from on of the recipients who was extremely upset at the note from the church and I received a verbal hand-slap for trying to mix anything remotely churchy with the boxes.  My emotions were already running high because of the build up to the dedication.  Here I was trying to do something that would further our participation in the life of the community and I had someone from the community who was "extremely upset" with the church.  I don't do well when I have people extremely upset we me.

My emotions welled up inside of me again and what I wanted to say to the person on the phone is that…OK, I wouldn't put anything on the boxes anymore but they need to realize the gift that I/We have been giving their company over these past years and put that into perspective.  And I wanted to get the name of the person who complained and tell him or her that they can certainly make arrangements to pick up their box in Anchorage at one of the non-church sites.

I didn't do either of these.

I kept my mouth shut.

And I realized that this was just one person in the grand scheme of things and the majority of the community around us, I think, appreciates how we try to love them…whether or not they appreciate that we try to love them with the love of God.

It can be hard to love when you're not loved back.  That's just the way it is.  I think the animosity has subsided some over the last several years as we've tried to embrace our role as a Good Samaritan in the community.  But the answer when faced with this is never to withhold your love, to lessen your grace, to stop doing good works…no matter how little love you are shown in return.

All you can do is keep on loving with the love of Jesus.

After all, that's what Jesus did.

And it got far worse for him.

In the Sanctuary, All Alone, After the Consecration

It has been a whirlwind the past week. Heck, it's been a whirlwind over the past month...and years. A lot of time, energy, thought, prayer, work, stress, passion, hope, vision, study, worry, money, and celebration has been put into our building. And, it's not done yet. A lot more will be put in in the coming months and years. At times it has been emotionally and physically overwhelming.

But today was the day we were Consecrating our New Building -- Our building that still doesn't have heat or running water or many lights. But today, with our Bishop and Superintendent and Director of Connectional Ministries present, along with folks from the community, we were setting it apart for "holy purposes."

I don't know how many people were at our building consecration today. I didn't count.


At 10 AM we had one special worship service, with our Bishop, Grant Hagiya, preaching. Our 8:30 folks were there plus some 70 or so other people. We sang "The Church's One Foundation" and "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing" and "The Summons." The Bishop preached on Acts 2:42-47 saying "The Work Of Ministry Is Just Beginning." He reminded us that the church is not a building and he told a wonderful story about a church being "high-touch" for his family after his mother had died. That...that is what the church is called to be.

There was a whirlwind of activity over in the new church afterwards as we set up for the pot-luck and consecration service. There were a lot of people and I was very thankful that we had a number of community folks there as well. It all went beautifully. We're fully consecrated. The bishop said so, therefore it must be true.

We raised our Ebenezer -- our "Stone of Help" monument -- in the rain.

A handful of us stayed to clean.

People went home.

I was left in that big, new, unfinished church. I was worn out. I was relieved. I was sad that there were a few persons who weren't there that I really wanted to be there. I was alone. It was quiet. Just the sound of the rain running off the roof behind me.

This was a holy time. As I sat there, up where the pulpit will be in the near future, I soaked it all in. Over the past six summers 've seen a lot of work take place here. I actually don't know exactly how many work teams we've had and I have no idea how many individuals. I know we've had three site managers. I couldn't tell you exactly how many contractors. I sat there looking around and, in my mind picturing all the many hands that have worked to construct this place.

I could picture the floor being blessed. I could picture the walls being put up. I could picture the foundation being laid. I could picture the scaffolding being climbed. I could picture the giant timbers being put together. I could picture people gathering and eating and worshipping. I could see the faces, the hands, the work, all that went into it and all the work behind the scenes.

Lord, this has been a big project.

Sometimes as pastor I can feel like a Lone Ranger, like everything depends on me and God working it out. Now, I know this isn't true, but it can feel that way...sometimes. Sometimes I feel more important, bigger, than I am.

But, sitting there in that chair, soaking it all in, I felt very small, as if I'd been swept up in a movement much bigger than myself, a God-movement. That, I believe, is a healthy perspective. There is no doubt that I've given much of my life to this congregation, to this community, to this church building. But, it's not me. It hundreds...thousands...of hands under the direction of our all-powerful, awesome God.

Tomorrow the contractors show up again. Hammers. Nails. Saws. Hopefully we'll have heat by the end of the week. Hopefully. It will be a hotbed of activity and I'll be faced with the immediate tasks that need to be accomplished. And soon we'll be in that space and we'll be looking at ministries to begin and worship to be held. And there will be bills and bills and bills and bills. Sigh...

But there, alone in the sanctuary, I got to spend some time seeing the whole picture. I felt small in the presence of all those others who have been along this journey with us...with me.

It was a holy time.

Biking Down Mt. Alyeska: I Want to Live Vicariously Through These Guys

This is not me.

But, while watching the video I can make believe that it is.

Alyeska Resort downhill mountain biking from anchoragedailynews on Vimeo.

Thinking Small

Image by Niffty.. via Flickr

We are in a world that likes to think BIG to dream BIG to act BIG.  We like our plans to be all-encompassing.  We like our leaders to cast broad visions.  And, in the life of the church, we're happy when the numbers are good, when our pews are full, and membership classes are busting at the seams.  I've served three smaller churches (although one could argue that Girdwood Chapel is not "small" in Alaska standards) and at each one we've struggled with some identity issues as we've seen all the great and BIG ministries that occur in larger churches.  "Why can't we be like them?" we've asked.  And sometimes we've tried to take on their programing as our own...even though we really could never have pulled it off.

And, as pastor, I have to say that occasionally my heart still sinks when some event is planned or some worship service begins or some schedule is set and I look out on those gathered round and see that it is far fewer than I had hoped for...far fewer than I had expected.  It still happens.

But a couple of things have helped...

First, when I was in Kenai, Alaska, I was trying to work with the church to do some visioning for where it is that God wanted them to be over the next several years.  We talked about it for a month or so.  I had preached on "vision" and we had flyers posted around the church.  We were going to make it into a big deal.  The pastor of Soldotna United Methodist Church was going to be leading the event.  Saturday came.  The coffee was brewed.  The table was set.  Candles were lit.  And we waited.  A lot of time has gone by since then and I really don't remember how many people were there, but it was bad.  There were, maybe, 3 or 4.    I was disappointed.  I was very disappointed.  But that pastor started us off in a prayer and then said, "God has gathered those of us who are ordained to be here today.  He has called us to this place, around this table, to do his work."

And we did it.  We did his work.  And it was good.  Perhaps it could have been more satisfying if 30 people had shown up.  But that's not what happened. And, I pray, that is just how God wanted it.

Secondly, I've been thinking (a lot) about all that Shane Claiborne said during his time in Alaska a week or so ago.  One of the things he said, and it comes through in his writings, is that ministry happens through relationships...and, particularly, through intimate relationships.  Small is good.  That's why those giant churches our smaller churches are so desperately trying to be like are focusing on small group ministries.  That's where ministry really happens.

I'm reminded of this again this morning.  A couple of nights ago we didn't have the number of kids we'd like to see at Vacation Bible School.  We were far from it.  One adult asked me, "Is it worth it?"   It's a good question.  It really is.   It's a good VBS program.  I like the material.  I think our staffing is good.  The music and dancing is great.  I had fun.  I think my kids had fun.  But is it worth it for so few kids?  It's a question that's been asked in previous years as well.

Well, here's how I look at it.  Games may be a little harder in smaller groups, but the crafts are awesome.  The singing may not be as loud but each kid was able to get a little more personal attention.  And, if one kid comes out of it with a greater sense of who God is and how God loves them, then it's worth it.  And if I get to have fun with the whole process as well, why do we need to ask the question.

Maybe we just need to think small.

TIE-DYED WORSHIP AT GIRDWOOD CHAPEL TOMORROW!

Image via Wikipedia

Every year at Forest Fair time we have "Tie Dyed Worship" to celebrate the 60s.  That's when we pull out the custom-made tie-dyed altar cloth and we play lots of 60s music.  While we'll sing traditional hymns that go along with our sermon topic, and we'll have normal-type prayers, and Holy Communion, the main sermon illustration will emphasize the spirit and some of the history of the 1960s...which come to the fore at Forest Fair Time in Girdwood.  It's a fun Sunday and we'll even play a little name-that-tune.  A lot of our folks weren't even born in the 1960s so it becomes a fun history lesson, complete with pictures and music and video.

Tomorrow I'll be preaching on evangelism...and will be using Beatlemania and its lasting influence as the main illustration.  (I know the start of Beatlemania was well before the Tie-Dye craze, but it's still within the same decade).

Tie-dyed shirts are not out of place.

And then, of course, we get to follow it with Shane Claiborne!