The Sacred Ficus Exists??

For years, some of my friends in ministry and I have laughed and groaned when we've considered those traditions in our churches that didn't contribute to the work of the Kingdom. One of them used the term "sacred ficus" to describe them, after he got in trouble for tossing some long faded and dog-eared fake plants off their stage. When he was called out for it, he said that he replied "I didn't know the ficus was sacred."

Well, the picture above is of a "sacred ficus."

Apparently, to the Hindu, this variant of the fig tree actually is sacred.

Made me laugh again, just thinking about replacing those fake ficus (ficusi? ficusisis?) with two of those and explaining that to my friend.

Some examples of "sacred ficus" that I've heard about from some of my friends (and these cross several denominational lines and are spread out across the country)?

The pulpit. Has to be number one with a bullet. No matter that it takes up 4 feet of the stage, or that the preacher doesn't spend any time behind it. It is "the sacred desk" and must not be removed.

The communion table. Again, you might only serve the Lord's Supper once a quarter, and use it the rest of the time for a flower stand or place to put a big Bible no one ever reads, if it has always been there, it always should be there.

The hymnal. Sure, you've finally invested in that whole media package with projector and screen. And it's great for sermon outlines and memorial pictorial displays. But the words of Charles Wesley, Fanny Crosby and Bill Gaither should never be projected.

I'm sure there have to be more. Any particular ones where you are?

"Defined by His scars - not mine"

While looking over my notes for tonight's Bible study, I happened to have the notebook fall open to a page near the rear. I'm pretty much a digital guy now, but early on I printed everything out as well. Made sense in the time of the small hard drive and floppy disk I suppose. But today, when the president of Tyndale House says that "print is dead", well, it feels quaint.

I've picked up a large task once more - the Book of Romans.

It has been several years since I have taught through it. There's so much there for us that for me as a teacher/preacher, I have flashbacks of the first time I took Adam and Sean into the then new "Toys R Us". They both looked stunned that such a place could... be. It was took much at once for them to take in. But they did adjust quite well and rather quickly at that.

Still, it is Romans.

The notebook has all my notes from forever. One of the pages I happened upon had at the top a note "DF 10/24/94 AM". That would mean "Dames Ferry Baptist Church" which was the church I served first as a pastor.

Ouch.

To say it was hard on me - and especially on my family would be a big understatement. There were some great strides forward for Christ made in that rural family owned and operated church, and a great, great reversal. Yeah, and that last part left a mark.

So when that page fell open, the memory suddenly was there again. Ah, but God had already prepared me, for earlier today I read this from Troy Neujahr, my Lutheran friend as he was explaining to another friend how we who are pastors have to relate to those places God places us to serve:

I'm afraid that you're so afraid of getting in another bad church that you want to destroy this chance before it becomes anything like reality. I'm afraid that you're like a certain woman in my church who feels a need to hurt people before and push them away before a serious relationship starts to develop, just so that she won't have to risk getting hurt herself.

I know you've got it rougher than I probably ever have. I understand that. But I've hit a rocky road or two even in my short time out of the gate, and there's one thing God impressed deeply, deeply into me in my first painful ministry experience:

My ministry should be defined by His scars . . . not mine.

Did you catch that last line?

See friends, we're human - true enough. But we have the Spirit of the Most High God residing within. We have to, have to, have to return again and again to our core - Jesus. We simply cannot function as followers of Jesus in any God-honoring way unless we do.

Sunday's message from the beautitudes pointed us to the fact that when people abuse us, despise us, and throw all sorts of falsehoods our way, instead of looking at the effect on us and seeking pity - we need to look at Jesus.

Yep. Thanks Troy. Thank You God.

On House Churches

I was walking through the kitchen this afternoon, and looked over and saw a cookbook from Grace Baptist Church of Juliette, GA. I had forgotten that the folks in our failed house church/plant had produced that. Leafing through the recipes and looking at the names, I remembered the sweet fellowship and genuine love we had for each other. It was deserving of the name Grace.

The church started in the worst possible way - as a split off of Dames Ferry Baptist. That church served as my introduction to pastoral ministry. As a newly minted bivocational pastor, I accepted a pastorate in a church that changed pastors the way Paris Hilton changes limos. A church whose baptistry served as a place to store Christmas decorations. We had to take a blowtorch to get the water flowing.

Still, there was success early on as I worked hard and the Holy Spirit smiled on us. Dames Ferry grew. It doubled. Those who came hadn't always been there. They were fellow Christians, but they weren't family. And that combined with my pastoral inexperience led directly to a troubled parting.

In hindsight, I should have walked away and not looked back. But a group of people who really wanted to see God continue working in that community called me and I accepted the opportunity to be their pastor. We met at first in a house down the street from Dames Ferry. We called ourselves "Grace".

Our journey lasted two years together. We went through some vision issues, got absolutely no help from the Georgia Baptist Convention even though we rose to 42 people and had an offer to give us 3 acres of land. The convention said we had to have 5 acres before they'd help. We eventually got the opportunity to share space with Juliette UMC but by then we were just playing out the game.

What I learned...

In that rural environment, house church didn't work. We couldn't get people to come to the house and worship. The folks we had were winsome people, and generally speaking outgoing. But we had a stigma - maybe a double one from the split.

Some problems cross church structure lines. Leadership is an issue wherever. Conflict can occur regardless. In fact I was shocked to find that one family who had always been abused by the powers that be in the former church quickly became abusive of others at Grace.

In that environment, having a building and a denominational affiliation would have helped a great deal. But we were in an associational environment with an "Area Missionary" who had three associations and frankly was terrible. He had to have been someone's brother in law. We were trying to do something that wasn't done - plant a new church. Then amp that with the whole house church deal. Maybe he thought we were moonies.

I'll tell you this, I still love those people dearly. Every week when we met, it was awesome regardless of how few we were. I wish we had made it.

Could it work today? In some places I think it could. But is it the cure-all?

No.

On the Church

I'm preaching today hoping to dispel the myth that the church isn't necessary. In these days that's not a slam dunk like it used to be. And maybe it shouldn't be. Those vital places that made such a difference in the lives of pagans like me seem few and far between now. Many seem content to just repeat what they did last year, or in the case of the FBC down the street, go back to what worked in 1973.

Well, I was saved in 1973. My wife drove a Vega and I drove a 300 horsepower 10 mpg Duster 340. It had an 8 track tape player.

The earth has turned and life has moved on.

"Unstirred waters lead to stagnation, and stagnation can't support life. Churches looking for lack of change and preservation of 'what has always been' are on course with slow, creeping death. Injection of new life, ideas, freshly surrendered lives, spiritual fervor, hunger to penetrate culture, and better ways to connect people in community all lead to disequilibrium. Disequilibrium is uncomfortable, unpredictable, and chaotic--the dominant reasons people don't like it...without fresh injections, organizations will be lulled into a false sense of complacency and end up 'the frog in the kettle slowly brought to boil.'" Ron Martoia, Morph!, 173

Wearing Out A Pastor

I never understood it.

Years and years ago I knew a guy who pastored a small church in rural Bibb County GA. The church I attended to play softball played his church in the Lizella league. Seemed like a nice enough guy. Looked like the team liked each other.

Couple of years later, I saw him again. He was working at Sears, selling washing machines.

At the time, I had no frame of reference for that. Pastors were in it for life, I thought. Unless they disqualified themselves because of a moral failure, or they checked out of this life for the next, they were always pastors. Frankly, I thought anyone who didn't pastor after being called, must not have been called to begin with. Wouldn't say I questioned their salvation, but let's just say I was grateful for God's mercy when it came to people like that.

My epiphany has come. In fact there are times when I wonder how anyone can pastor a church and remain there for any period of time.

A friend of mine has feared for his life and that of his family. Another pastor I know has bodyguards. Those are extremes, I know. Most pastors just wear out.

How do you wear out a pastor?

Constantly carp about "being fed."

Remind him who "pays the bills."

Take every opportunity to blunt any good news - for example if you see the Holy Spirit move and someone come to Christ, complain about the music and remind him of those people who left.

If you have a lot of young people coming, complain that all the old people have been run off.

If you have a predominately older congregation, complain that the church isn't reaching any young people.

Find a way, any way to remind him who he isn't. (This could be the pastor before him, the guy down the street, or some TV preacher who'll never be there when they call at 3AM)

Never, ever recognize either his or his family's sacrifices for the work of Christ there. (I have one friend who left a law career to enter the ministry. I left a marketing and sales career. I don't know about him, but I haven't caught up to what I made in 1990 yet)

Never acknowledge their anniversaries in service.

Never insist they take vacation - in fact complain if they ever do.

Don't ever think about their health (or make sure they have insurance), and put as little as you can into a retirement fund, just so you can say that you did your part.

Carp about any efforts they make to improve via education or in purchasing books or going to conferences - after all, you know they are just using your church as a stepping stone.

Make sure their wife is miserable - this may be the single most effective thing you can do.

Agree with them on subjects like worship music in public, but talk a completely different tune among other people inside the church.

Find some way to postpone or if possible derail any new idea they bring to the table. You can use the "we've never done that before" card, the "I'm not sure we can pay for it card" or anything you think will cool anything that might cause the church to see greater impact for Christ.

Right before worship, as they are preparing their heart and mind to deliver the message God has given them, ask them to make an announcement, or question them about something. Anything you can do to make them less effective helps.

Oh and never, ever stop pushing them to do things your way. It may take years, but constant pressure pays huge dividends - ever see the Grand Canyon?

In time, you will wear them out.

They may continue doing what they are doing, but the joy of serving God and seeing Him glorified will diminish. You'll have converted them to the functional equivalent of the Japanese "salaryman" who expects nothing from his work except a paycheck, and has to wonder in many cases if that will come.

Each year, thousands of men and women turn away from the call God gave them and enter life after the ministry. Not because they have lost their calling, or their gifts, but because over time, like water on rock, they wear away.

Shame.