Sunday Morning, Before the Dawn

It's Sunday again.  I've been looking forward to this morning because it brings me into the orbit of others.  When the churches gather to sing praise, my soul is renewed in the singing.  When disciples offer their prayers, I also am reminded to pray.  When the churches gather, there is yet hope for the healing of the world.

I remember Sunday mornings from a time long ago, when I would spend Saturday nights with my grandparents.  On Sunday mornings we would rise before the dawn because Grandpa had to tend the cattle on the farm where he was employed.  We had several hours of work to do before we went to church.  I loved those Sunday mornings in the middle of the winter when I could go along to help feed the cows.  The air was crisp.  The frost was heavy on the pastures.  The cattle would be waiting at the gate for hay, silage, and generous scoops of grain.  It was feeding time on the farm.

And, this Sunday morning, as I prepare to visit the Congregational Church of Laconia and this afternoon as I visit the Maranatha Indonesian United Church of Christ and join the celebration of the twelfth anniversary of this immigrant church--I remember those special Sunday mornings on the farm.  Today brings a special opportunity to feed and to be fed in worship.  There will be wonderful food in the festivities of this day.  There will be rich food, the bread of life, that God provides in abundance for all.  How I need that food today!

May your Sunday morning be filled with the nourishing, enlivening presence of God.  Come to the waters.  Come to the bread that satisfies.  Come to the feast.

Gracious God, I need to taste and see your goodness today.  Bless all who seek and all who find you as they gather today.  Nourish in us your peace.  Amen.

I Went to Church Last Sunday

Surely you will say to me, "What?  You went to church last Sunday?  You always go to church!  You're the Conference Minister.  Of course you went to church."

Yes, that is true.  I go to church a lot--to worship, to meet with members, to encourage and to pray, to sit in the presence of Jesus, to glorify and praise God.  There have been very few times when I have not wanted to be in church on Sunday morning.  This has been my centering spiritual practice for a long, long time. 

On Sunday, which was both Valentine's Day and the First Sunday in Lent, I traveled to the Community Church of Hudson, which is one of our smallest local churches.  There on a cold, clear morning with temperatures well below zero, I found the warmth of Christian community.   The faith was proclaimed and taught, Communion was shared, and I was at home.  Hudson reminded me of the tiny church on the border between Missouri and Iowa--Livonia United Methodist Church--where the United Methodists welcomed me as their Sunday morning preacher while I was in college.  That little congregation of eight members was formative in my call and has been foundational my care for small-membership churches.  The Community Church of Hudson, United Church of Christ is a community to be cherished in the New Hampshire Conference as it worships God and serves God's people.

This church was in the news last month because a small truck crashed through a front window and landed inside the fellowship hall.  The damage is extensive and is still evident.  What stirs my soul about this story is how--on the very day that the crash occurred--the church continued to serve the poor in its community by distributing food through a back door in that fellowship hall.  The Community Church of Hudson serves in the midst of adversity.  It sees Christ in those whom others might easily overlook, especially when the church has reasons to be distracted and discouraged by its own problems.  The Spirit of Christ abides here!

I am reminded of Paul's words:  "When one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it." (I Cor. 12:26, NRSV).   We are all connected in Christ.  I am so very glad that I went to church last Sunday. 

Thank you, Gracious and Gathering God, for the Community Church of Hudson, United Church of Christ!  Amen.

End of an Era

Confession time:  It is not easy for me to admit that the world is changing.  I am tempted toward to denial as a coping mechanism.  Continuity between the past, present, and future is comforting.  Endings are hard, for I tend to hold tightly to memories of what has been--the people and places where I have served.  Lord, have mercy!  Christ, have mercy!  Lord, have mercy!

When I was in junior high, Clarence Hengstenberg knocked on our door and asked whether I would be interested in working for him.  Mr. Hengstenberg, a former dairy farmer, was now a milk distributor for Central Dairy.  He delivered milk every evening, except Sunday, to homes around the community.  He hired me for $6.60 a week--a dollar and a dime a night--to be one of his four delivery boys.  We literally ran the milk cartons to the door, sliding across icy porches and slipping past growling dogs.   This was my first real job. 

Imagine how it felt a couple of weeks ago when a newspaper in Missouri ran the story of the end of home deliveries by Central Dairy:  Central Dairy Closes Door on Home Delivery.  With that announcement came the end.  Folks no longer need a milk delivery at their doors.   We do not live by milk alone.  Milk deliveries are not going to keep senior citizens living in their own homes longer.  We might as well buy the dairy at the Walmart across town.  Home delivery no longer made sense in Central Dairy's business plan.  The world has changed.  My first job isn't being done by anyone in Mid-Missouri now.  It's over.

Now, I wonder about ministry, including this specialized ministry called "Conference Ministry."  It began with the stirring of the Spirit and with the call of Jesus who said, "Come, follow me."  The calling of the twelve disciples and the commissioning of the seventy apostles were always favorite stories at Sunday School and Vacation Bible School.  The old hymn, "Where He Leads Me I Will Follow," runs deep in my spirit.  And just look where Christ has led me!

I wonder whether the day is here when the headlines Saturday's Concord Monitor tell of the end of another era.  For me, ministry has been anchored in a call that takes us to the doors--of congregants, of hospitals and nursing homes, of the poor, and of the dying.  Ministry, even Conference Ministry, is about being face-to-face with those whom Christ also loves.  For nearly thirty-five years, my ministry has involved preaching, praying, and being present with people.  It has included service and sacrifice.  It has been a source of joy.

That understanding of ministry seems antiquated today.  Many in the pews of our churches no longer expect such things of their ministers.  It's not how we do things in a digital world.  Why would a minister take the time to drive (or fly) somewhere to be with someone in their sorrow or suffering?  What a waste of resources!  Sending an email or posting on Facebook should be sufficient now.  Real ministry happens on the screens of our devices.  

From my first job to my present one, I sense that I may well be at the end of an era.  What I have done others may not do or even value in the future.  But of this I am confident:  I have followed One whose story ends in resurrection.  I have this powerful assurance that the Christ who calls me still makes house calls and heart calls.  I have this hope--this empowering hope--that God is present in every ending and brings life in the midst of death.  I have this hope in my living and in my dying:  God is faithful even at the end of an era.