Monthly Archives: July 2016

Teach Us to Pray

11He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” 2He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. 3Give us each day our daily bread. 4And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” 5And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ 7And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 8I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs. 9“So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? 12Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? 13If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

 

A few years ago I attended a series of classes where we learned to write Lament Psalms. Seem odd to you? It felt odd to me. We learned to cry out to God with words that insisted on God’s presence with us.  We dared to accuse God of silence, even ignoring us. We even complained to God! It was audacious and bold. It was impudent.

And it’s the most honest I’d ever been with God.

We learned to write Lament Psalms by reading Psalms of Lament. We saw in these Psalms anger, sorrow, deep sadness.  We also began to understand honesty in our feelings. Like Jacob by the River Jabok, we learned to wrestle with God.

I wonder how often Jesus talked with his disciples about prayer?  I believe it was often. He knew what was ahead for them.  And as he journeyed to the cross, he must have known that they would need to be in prayer often.  Interesting, though, is that the disciples asked him to teach them.

He taught them about persistence.  That scene where one friend bangs on the door of another friend, only to be refused because it’s not convenient, is an example of Jesus’ use of exaggeration.  None of us would refuse to help a friend that came calling late at night.  In Jesus’ day it would also be unheard of.  You help a friend who is in need. You don’t leave her standing there while she shamelessly bangs on the door. You get up and give her what she needs.  Because, you have a lot of people to face in the morning and when they discover you didn’t help, well, you are shamed, even shunned.

Jesus’ point is persistence. Keep on asking for the same thing. Be shameless with God. Pray and God listens. Pray and God listens, maybe even speaks. Pray and God listens and speaks and acts. All in God’s time, when God is ready. All in God’s time, perhaps when God deems that you’re ready.

But, wait, there’s more.

Jesus tells us to Ask-Search-Knock.  Sometimes we know, or think we know, what to pray for.  So we ask.[i]

Other times we cry out to God with sighing. We search for the why and how. Our words don’t make much sense. We reach out for understanding and discovery.[ii]

Then there are times when we knock on that door. Not nicely, but banging in rage and pain, desperate for God.  Desperate for mercy.[iii]

And that’s where we run into the problem.  We’re supposed to be nice to God, aren’t we? We musn’t annoy God or hurt God’s feelings. We have to say the right thing. Our words should demonstrate respect.

It’s like that popular acronym for teaching prayer: ACTS.  It stands for Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication and intercession. It’s a nice way to pray if you have lots of time and not much on your mind. It’s useful to remember what God has done for you.

When we pray an adoration, we are reminded of God’s goodness. When we confess to God, we are reminded of God’s goodness despite our shortcomings. The problem is, that there are times when we have a need to be shamelessly persistent and ask, search and knock.  Sometimes at the top of our lungs.

And that’s when I learned how to write Psalms of Lament.  To do that we read audacious Psalms. Some of them are searching Psalms: For example, this one from Psalm 55:1-2:

Give ear to my prayer, O God;
do not hide yourself from my supplication.
Attend to me, and answer me;
I am troubled in my complaint.
I am distraught.

But what about these?

I am weary with my crying; my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God
. (Ps 69:3)

Answer me when I call, O God of my right! (Ps 4:1a)

And who can forget the words of Ps 22 that Jesus said from the cross?

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me,from the words of my groaning?

 O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
and by night, but find no rest.
(Ps 22:1-2)

These Psalms cry out with pain and demand. They insist that God attend to the one praying. They aren’t nice; they aren’t respectful; they aren’t  words that our mothers taught us to say. These are words that acknowledge that God isn’t just “up there” or “out there” somewhere, but right here. God is present in the here and the now.

And while we knock on that door and shamelessly insist that God get out of bed and help us, God is already there.  Holding us. Shedding tears with us. Feeling all of that pain and more. Saying, “Go ahead, give me all you’ve got. I can take it.”

And in an hour or a day or a month or years hence, when we’re ready to dry our tears and we’ve been emptied of the pain and anger, we look back.  Lo and behold, God has been at work. In your life and the lives of those who created or caused or were part of the pain.

 

A few years ago a friend told me a story about herself. It was late at night; her husband had been asleep for several hours. The pain of an event that had occurred several months ago cropped up, yet again, to haunt her. She couldn’t take anymore. Her knock on the door of God’s house of mercy came in the form of a devastating decision.   As she considered, she sensed a voice saying, “Really?” That’s when she decided to wake her husband up. He wisely held her as she wept bitter, hurting tears that refused to stop. He rocked her silently for what seemed like hours until there was absolutely nothing left inside her.

She was emptied of everything. She didn’t sleep that night.  Instead, she lay beside her husband feeling that total emptiness being filled with God only knows what. It was a kind of energy moving through her body.

That’s shameless persistence. That’s knocking at the door with no words to convey that pain.  That’s audacious, demanding.

So, “when we pray,” Jesus says. “Say Father, hallowed by your name.”

And that quickly he moves into supplications:

  1. Your kingdom come. – The reign has come near.  We yearn for God to bring it to fullness.
  1. Give us bread. We crave the Great Messianic Banquet at the end of time. But for now,provide for us our necessary sustenance. Release us from our sins. Help us forgive those who sin against us.
  1. Preserve us. Protect us from the test and the trial that jeopardizes faith.

When we pray, we pray for others.  We pray for ourselves. We pray for everything from travel mercies to death and dying.  We pray for God’s shalom.  We pray for sustenance for our souls. We pray and we pray and we pray.

And for all that we pray for, aren’t we really crying out to God for one thing?

God’s kingdom.

Bring it on, God.  Bring your kingdom here on earth.

And if you’re not ready to bring it into fullness, help us today see a glimpse of the kingdom.

And that’s what we ask-search-knock for. Glimpses of the kingdom in those travel mercies, those prayers for health, and sustenance.  Glimpses of the kingdom in our attempts to forgive.  Glimpses of the kingdom that remind us that the powers that rule today will pass away. That God in Christ has won the victory in his resurrection.

Your kingdom come, Lord.

Bring it on.

All glory and honor be to God.

Amen.

 

 

[i] Thomas Long, “Westminster Bible Companion: Matthew” (Louisville, London. Westminster John Knox Press, 1997) Page 80

[ii] Ibid

[iii] Ibid

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In the Moment

38 Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42 NRSV)

I love Martha.  She has a deacon’s heart to serve and care for others.  Martha sees a need and fills it, often with little energy expended.

Martha provides tasty meals for the fellowship dinner; cleans the church and her home to perfection; provides meals to the sick.  You name it and you’ll see Martha ably going about her duties serving others with love.

Sometimes, Martha gets wrapped up in the doing.  She sets high expectations for herself and when others don’t rise to that level, she becomes anxious.  Why am I the only one providing sandwiches for the luncheon?  No one ever helps me on this project.  There’s too much to do and I’m the only doing it.

When that happens, Martha becomes more important than the serving she performs.  Jesus becomes her instrument to use rather than serving him by serving others.  When that happens her sense of love turns into duty.

As much as I love Martha, I also love Mary.  She’s contemplative and easy to be with.  She’s a thinker and can see solutions where others see nothing.  Sometimes, she breaks the rules.

When Mary sat at Jesus’ feet that day, she went against cultural boundaries.  Women weren’t welcome to learn from the rabbi; it was usually men only.  Jesus welcomed her, though, that day in Martha’s house.  He welcomed her, taught her and even invited Martha to join them.

Mary has to be careful, though.  Just as Martha can lose track of herself and her purpose, so can Mary.  She, can become so preoccupied in reading and studying that she never looks out to see the needs of the broken world.  Mary can get stuck if she doesn’t take the initiative sometimes.

Jesus was a Martha, healing the sick and diseased; preaching and teaching; speaking out against the status quo that kept the poor poor and rich rich.

Jesus needs Martha’s.  He often uses the phrase, “go and do.”  Go and do as the Samaritan helped the man left for dead at the side of the dangerous Jericho road.  She’s in line to receive the blessing of the one who, “welcomes this child in my name.” Whoever welcomes others, welcomes Jesus and the one who sent him. (Luke 9:48 NRSV paraphrased.)

Jesus has lots of Martha’s today.  They exist all over our community, feeding the shut-in, organizing activities for senior citizens, helping those in poverty find solutions.  Across our state, our nation and our world we find Martha’s doing all things great and small in order to serve those in need.

If Jesus was an effective Martha it was because he was a contemplative Mary.  He often retreated alone to pray, sometimes all night.  He took his disciples on retreats to rest and relax and spend time away from the crowds.  I expect they spent time in prayer and study and listening.  When they returned to the crowds they were rejuvenated and ready to serve again.

A former member of our congregation became widowed suddenly.  Her faith carried her through her grieving process and gradually she became able to reinvent her life.  She moved her home closer to her place of employment.  Dorcas (not her real name) then completed a meditation book that she had started many years earlier.  After it was published, she hired a website developer and she now blogs.

Both her book and her blogs are the result of years of study and reading and being involved in Christian Education classes as a student and a teacher.  These blogs are thoughtful messages that teach and inspire.

Dorcas works as a nurse practitioner in a challenging ward of a specialty hospital.  What she sees in a day is probably more difficult than what many of us see in a month or more.  Clearly, her study keeps her faith alive and her blogs help others as much as they help her.

Dorcas is a wonderful mix of Martha and Mary.  A contemplative woman who sees what needs to be done and acts appropriately.

It takes balance.  In contemplation, prayer and study, we sit at Jesus’ feet.  At his feet we hear what it is he wants us to do: stand up for justice in unjust situations; reach out to the neighbor; serve others.  Only at Jesus’ feet can we learn to “go and do” what is right.  Without sitting we end up doing more harm than good.

Action is good until we decide we can do it without Jesus.  That’s when it turns into aimless “doing” that accomplishes nothing at best or makes things worse.

Praying and studying is good and healthy.  It helps us be our authentic selves.  Until it turns into naval gazing and nothing ever gets done.

Listen and reflect.  Go an do.  As the song says, “You can’t have one without the other.”

Listen and reflect.  Go and do.  Proclaim Christ as the one we serve.

Listen and reflect.  God and do.  Do the right thing and leave the rest to God.

All glory and honor be to God.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 


That’s My Neighbor?!

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus.[a] “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” 28 And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.”

29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii,[b] gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”  (Luke 10:25-37 NRSV)

Picture yourself traveling alone on that lonely and dangerous Jericho Road.  Approaching that turn in the bend, you see a stranger in the ditch, left for dead.  Or is he?  Maybe it’s an ambush.  So we have to decide: cross to the other side of the road and pass him by or approach him and offer assistance.

What if he doesn’t look like us?  What if he’s someone you know personally with whom you have enmity; a homeless man with a mental disease; a black teenage covered in tattoos from head to toe; a man with an Arab head scarf; a possible member of the Ku Klux Klan?

Professor Amy-Jill Levine of Vanderbilt University asks a quite different question:

“What if it’s me in the ditch?  Is there anyone, from any group, about whom [I’d] rather die than acknowledge, ‘She offered help’ or ‘He showed compassion’?”  (Amy-Jill Levine, “The Misunderstood Jew” (San Francisco, Harper Collins, 2006) 148-149)

What if you’re the one in the ditch?  Because all of us find ourselves in the ditch more often than we may care to admit.  Beaten and bruised by hurtful deeds and words; shriveling from lack of loving contact with someone; unable to move because of the pain of that unwelcome diagnosis or even death of someone close to you; dysfunction that keeps you separated from others; guilt and shame from the past.

We’re all in that ditch.  Hopefully, the Samaritan comes along and dares to approach you.  With compassion he anoints our hurts with oil and wine and binds up the wounds and even take us to a safe place.  The Samaritan is the one who allows her busy life to be interrupted because she sees a need.  She delays her trip to Jericho because a “neighbor” needs help.

How did it feel when you were helped out of that ditch?  Uncomfortable?  Undeserved?  Whoever stopped and lifted you out of the ditch: did you try to slap him away or did you reach out to put your arms around his neck so he could more easily left you onto his donkey?

When my parents moved here from Canada, it was for a new life.  Dad grew up in an extremely poor family during the Great Depression.  He believed that no amount of success in Canada would lift that veil of poverty from him.  When we arrived here in 1954, Dad went to work to create a new life.  He became a successful businessman and eventually co-owned a business with my brother.

As a young salesman for a major office equipment manufacturer, he worked hard.  Even in 1954, rush hour traffic in Los Angeles was difficult.  So, Dad would leave early in the morning and arrive home late at night.

Every year each salesman was given a quota.  If he reached or surpassed his quota he was invited to a posh hotel for a week of celebration.  It was the event of the year and everyone wanted to attend.  Stan and Bill were seasoned salesmen and usually made quota two or three months early.  They could have continued selling and increasing their commissions but they did something different.  Every year they rented a hotel room and had the beds removed and tables brought in.  Anyone was welcome to come to this room for help.

Bill and Stan would visit with the less experienced salesmen and advise them.  They helped them see where they missed a potential sale.  They helped write up the proposals.  Anything that kept the salesmen from calling on new customers, they handled for them.

And many of them succeeded.  They not only made quota and were celebrated for it, they became better, more skilled at their jobs.  Stan and Bill helped a lot of people out of the ditch and to become successful businessmen.

Dad was proud of his achievements in life.  He pulled himself out of poverty and made a life for all of us.  He often thought of himself as self-made man.  He had made it in the “land of opportunity.”

As hard as Dad worked, though, he didn’t accomplish it alone.  He had Stan and Bill who crossed over to the ditch and gave him a helping hand.  He had the minister who invited us to church where we became involved in the life of the community.  He had a sponsor in Alcoholics Anonymous who helped him get dry and stay dry.

He didn’t become successful in a vacuum.   When he gained a level of expertise he helped many young men become good salesmen.  He donated his money freely to those in need, often anonymously.  He pulled drunks out of the ditch and got to them the inn called AA; he sponsored several relatives who decided to leave Canada and begin anew in America.

Dad lived out his life as one who approached those in the ditch just as Christ had done for him.  But, he didn’t accomplish success without the assistance of a lot of people, some of whom were Samaritans.

The myth still exists today.  “I can do this on my own.”  “I don’t need anyone to help me.”  “I got here on my own and I’ll get out of this life the same way.”

As I look around the congregation that I serve, I see hard working people.  I know what most of them accomplished success through long hard hours of labor; long school days achieving advanced degrees or certifications; long, lonely days caring for children while a spouse was out of town on a job.

We are all stronger today because of hard work and sacrifice.  But, none of us got there alone.  None of us lived on an island and all of us have been helped out of that ditch more than once.  And I suspect all of us here have crossed over to the ditch to help others.

The neighbor who reaches in to that ditch and pulls you out may not be someone with whom you’re close.  He may be that tattooed teenager, the immigrant who hasn’t learned English.   Worse yet, you may be helped by a Samaritan who will get to know you better than you want; who will get close to you and then you’ll have to open up and acknowledge that you aren’t made of steel, that you need help.

Eternal life is based on the ultimately close intimate relationship with the One who crossed to the other side, put on flesh and went to the cross for you and me.  If God is willing to do that, how can we not attempt to give and receive, not necessarily like he did, but in ways that honor our Savior.

All glory and honor be to God.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

[i] Amy-Jill Levine, “The Misunderstood Jew” (San Francisco, Harper Collins, 2006) 148-149


Go on Your Way

10 After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’ 10 But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, 11 ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near.’
16 “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

17 The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” 18 He said to them, “I watched Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. 19 See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. 20 Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” (Luke 10:1-11, 16-20 NRSV)

The greatest honor God ever bestowed on me was the call to be a shepherd to a church in northeastern Oklahoma.  The greatest challenge God ever bestowed on me was the call to be a shepherd here in northeastern Oklahoma!

It took two months of personal discernment: prayer, talking with my husband, sharing with my most trusted friends. It took a few weeks of being in conversation with the moderator of the Pastor Nominating Committee before finally gaining the courage to come out and ask him if the church would be interested in receiving my resume.

His answer was immediate and surprising: yes, we’d be happy to receive your resume. I almost asked him if he was sure. The only reason I didn’t was because I was afraid he’d change his mind!

All told, it took about six months. And when the call came to serve, I was filled with great joy and amazement. My heart’s desire had apparently met God’s deep need.  I had no idea what I was doing and where to begin. God did, though, so I arrived that first day with boxes of books and a heart filled with joy and trepidation. God provided the rest.

When Jesus sent the seventy out in pairs, he sent them everywhere. The mission didn’t end with their joy-filled return. It hasn’t ended, yet. We are the descendants of those seventy, being sent God only knows where, God only know why, to God only knows.

Jesus is speaking to the 21st century church when he says, “the harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few” (10:2). It’s as true today as it was in Jesus’ day. The harvest is plentiful: more and more Americans self-identify their religious affiliation as “none.” Others self-identify as “spiritual but not religious.” Still others view Christians as pushy, even mean. We’ve watched two generations of people not coming to church.

The harvest is plentiful, the laborers are graying and dying. We stutter over the word, “evangelism.” We’re scared. We don’t particularly care for our view of the future.

No one knows this better than the two congregations worshiping in the church building where I serve.  Our membership is not what it once was. Neither congregation can afford a full-time minister. One church building has been sold while the former tenants nest in a building that isn’t theirs.

Now we are talking about federation – combining our two distinctive selves into one. Is this an exciting opportunity or a slowing down of our eventual death?

If the harvest is so plentiful, where are they? What happened to Christ’s Church in America? Where are the people to fill our classrooms and pews?  We could spend time analyzing this and believe me, I have spent twenty years studying it.

A couple of weeks ago I traveled to Hastings, NE for my annual study leave. We spend three hours every day in classes led by seminary and university professors. There is time for rest; healthy and delicious meals; and the weather cooperates to allow us long walks.

Without a doubt, the best part of the day is morning worship. A preaching or worship professor leads and the sermons are memorable. This year my favorite preacher was there: Rev. Tom Long, recently retired from Candler College, Emory University.

During an afternoon conversation with him, the discussion turned to the inevitable topic: The 21st century church. He explained our existing condition better than I ever could: “I believe that God is tearing down what we have and building something new and more faithful.”

The preacher in Ecclesiastes wrote, “There’s a time to break down, and a time to build up.” Could it be that God is at work in all this and we’re the laborers he wants and need?

“Go on your way,” Jesus told them. “I’m sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves” (v 3.) When I began my call in Cleveland, I knew that I would come across a few wolves. But the lambs far outnumbered them. And on my worst days, those lambs humbled this particular wolf into a more authentic disciple.

When Jesus sent the seventy out, he had specific instructions. “Time is of the essence. Leave your brief case at the office and the matching luggage at home. Don’t carry extras – I want you to depend on God and only God.

“There’s no time to stop along the way for a long visit with old friends. Tell them you’ll have to visit at a later time. There’s work to do – don’t get side-tracked by distractions.

“Wherever you go, bring peace,” Jesus continued. “When you enter a home, say ‘peace to this house.’ Allow them to care for you—yes, it’s a humbling experience, but stay with them. Don’t move to another home. Whatever they provide you for a meal, eat it. Even if it’s not very good or not kosher, even if you know they’re too poor to be sharing. Allow them to serve you; and experience being humbled by them.”

Where can we bring peace? How can we offer ourselves to others, humbly serving and healing and proclaiming that the kingdom is at hand?

Perhaps the place to begin is as one united congregation. The result could be more energy and enthusiasm to serve God; more fulsome worship; more creativity; more of everything.

Is this what God is calling us to? Is federation a faithful and faith-filled response to God? And do we have the courage to step out in a leap of faith, not knowing where it’ll take us?

If this is the direction God is calling us to take, I insist we move through it slowly.  While many in both congregations are trying to adapt and adjust to the many changes in our church and our society, a few are ready to make all of the decisions at once: monetary, worship, Christian Ed, ministry, etc.

I say it because I’ve witnessed a federation fail because of assumptions and delayed decisions. I’ve seen people hurt deeply by ill-considered decisions.

I’ve also witnessed federations that are working beyond their wildest expectations: God at work, bringing them from two congregations to one; providing new and creative ministry ideas.

I suggest the slower method because it means significant change. It means death and resurrection. Death as a purely Presbyterian and a purely Methodist congregation and resurrection to something new and vital and dynamic.

That requires time and patience and plenty of prayer. Done right, we’ll feel Christ’s steady hand guiding us, pointing the way; we’ll witness miracles; and the demons will submit. We’ll tread on those scorpions of descent and snakes of temptation.

When God called me to Cleveland, I had no idea the wonderful journey I was embarking on. There have been a few moments when I’ve had to shake off the dust. There have been some scorpions and snakes along the way. Yet, I’ve received far more than I can ever return.

I believe that God is at work, tearing down in order to build up. I believe that our ministry here in Cleveland is vital. I believe that God needs us and has plans for us. Whether we do ministry as two congregations or one, is up to God.

Wherever God lead us, I’m prepared to follow. And it would be my greatest pleasure to continue that walk with all of them.

All glory and honor be to God.

Amen.


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