You Can Change the World

PastorPartridge Sermon , , , , , , ,

As I noted in an earlier post, I recently attended a surprise retirement party for my high school band director, Mr. John Rodgers. During that event we were given the opportunity to make a few remarks or to share our remembrances from our days in the Kenmore High School marching band. I remember many things. I remember the insane shaving cream fights that we had at band camp (and I still remember how to modify a can of shaving cream to shoot 20 feet). I remember selling oranges to earn enough money to go to Disney World for their tenth anniversary (though I honestly recall very little of the trip itself). I remember many events but I also remember that the band room was like a home away from home for a lot of us. We showed up as soon as we could convince someone to unlock the place and were often there in the afternoons well after school was over as well as many hours of class in-between.

For me, John Rodgers and our choir director Georgia Thomas were trusted adults who modeled leadership, passion for music, respect, humility and many other things. At our party, I noted that though there were perhaps a hundred of us gathered that evening, our numbers are indeed far more than that, we are indeed legion. Each year that I was in band we had something close to one hundred musicians carrying instruments along with many more majorettes, rifle girls, and flags (and Bill Dobbs, fellow Baritone player, as our Cardinal mascot). Over the years that John Rodgers was at Kenmore he invested himself in the lives of many hundreds of students, perhaps thousands. As we gathered that evening it was apparent that time had not stood still, we are all older, many of us have married and have children and now many of our children are inheriting our love of music.

As I shared, I concluded that in his own humble way, John Rodgers accomplished what people in science and politics and every other discipline dream of doing, he changed the world. John Rodgers changed the world but so did Georgia Thomas and so do teachers around the world every single day. We all remember these people because they changed us, they modeled life for us, they inspired us and they ignited a passion within us whether it was for music, or literature, or history or whatever.

I cannot ever thank John Rodgers or Georgia Thomas or Bill Muse, or any of my teachers enough for the gifts that they gave me…

…but there is something that I can do.

In the lives of every human being we are given the opportunity to invest in the lives of others. We are all given the chance to invest in something that reaches beyond the boundaries of today or this week’s paycheck. If we are to honor the people that invested their lives in us then we must answer the call to invest in others.

For me, I was compelled, over time, to teach others about the unimaginable gift of Jesus Christ and to expend my energies helping others spiritually as well as in other ways. For you it may not be John Rodgers, but today I ask that you remember who it was that influenced and inspired you. Maybe it was a teacher, a pastor, a coach, a university professor or it could be a parent, a grandparent, a police officer or even a janitor. Whoever it was for you, I hope that you will use that memory to drive you to invest in another generation.

If you’re a teacher, you can allow that memory to reinvigorate you and to rekindle your passion, but even if you’re not in a career where this is easy there are still lots of options. Choose someone who can benefit from your accumulated knowledge and experience and offer to mentor them. Instead of criticizing their youth and inexperience, take the time to teach them a better way (and listen for what they have to offer you as well). Volunteer in your community. Every ball field needs volunteer coaches and referees. Every scout troop that I’ve ever seen can always use anyone with a spare hour or two. Churches and synagogues and schools and soup kitchens everywhere need compassionate volunteers with a heart to serve others. Whatever it is, find a way to give back (or pay forward) the amazing gifts that you’ve been given. You can make a difference. You can make the world a better place.

Get out there and change the world.

I Am Not The Person I Once Was

PastorPartridge Sermon , ,

I am not the person I once was.

Recently I attended a surprise retirement party for my high school band director, John Rodgers. Mr. Rodgers had a profound impact on an untold number of lives but that’s a subject for another day. I graduated from high school 28 years ago and, not surprisingly, my classmates looked remarkably different than they did way back when. The physical changes in my classmates did not surprise me because, over time, I have watched the man in my mirror change as well. I’m thicker around the middle, my hair is thinning on top and I‘ve had a beard for well over a decade. The changes in my own appearance were obvious indications that my classmates were likewise not immortal.

As I moved around the room and engaged in conversation I was profoundly surprised by one thing, me. More accurately, I was surprised by how others in the room reacted to me. Years ago, we spent time together, a lot of it. Once upon a time, many of us knew each other very well. We met before school, often before the sun was up; we played music together between one and three hours every day and sometimes four or five. We often spent more time together than we spent with our parents. I tell you all this to say that when we met again after nearly three decades apart, in many ways we were able to simply pick up where we left off and enjoy each other’s company… and we did. I for one had a wonderful time remembering old times and renewing old friendships. Even better, with the advent of Facebook and email some of us will do a better job of staying in touch this time.

Still, as I mentioned, I was surprised by something. Long ago we were upperclassmen and underclassmen, freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors. Now we’re pastors, business executives, truck drivers, teachers, doctors and other things. In many ways, we are now our parents. Many of us have kids in high school and college. Looking at how we’ve changed in that way is fascinating but still, that wasn’t the surprise. What surprised me were several of the people who I had once looked up to. Not the majorettes or the flag girls with whom I’d only ever had a passing acquaintance, but my friends, or more often, friends of friends, those friends who travelled in the same circles but really weren’t close thirty years ago. These folks played instruments with my inner circle of friends or played in the jazz band where I worked on the tech crew. We knew each other fairly well, but not well enough to ever visit at home or be invited to birthday parties. Many of these folks were upperclassmen and graduated a year or two before I did. These were the people that I looked up to, who were older, smarter, better looking and more talented than I was, or at least it seemed that way. As I went about the room I was surprised because several of these friends not only remembered me, but they sought me out. They found value in who I was and what I did. Several people indicated that they’d hoped that I would come and they had looked forward to seeing me. Frankly, I was surprised that some of them even noticed me.

As many of us were, I was an awkward teenager. I didn’t get my growth spurt until I was a senior in high school and there were times that I didn’t like myself a whole lot. Somewhere along the line, about the time I was in high school, I had decided that if I didn’t like who I was, it was my job to become who I wanted to be. I wanted to be bigger and so for several years during college I went to the gym. I thought SCUBA diving looked cool (at least when Jacques Cousteau did it) and so I took classes and got certified. I’m not saying that working out in the gym and taking SCUBA lessons made me cool (because my children will tell you that I’m still not) but somewhere in the process I became comfortable with who I am. I am a different person than I was in high school. I’m taller and have a beard, but I also walk taller and straighter from ten years in the Army Reserve, I have a bachelor’s degree in engineering and a master’s degree in divinity and, simply put, I am both confident and comfortable with who I have become.

I was surprised that the people I’d known so many years ago reacted differently to our meeting than I expected. In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised.

I am not the person I once was.

Art and the Church

PastorPartridge Sermon , ,

This has nothing to do with my good college friend, Art Munson. Instead I was reading a blog by Blaine Hogan about how we should allow our artists to be pastors and inspire others with the mystery contained in scripture. His ideas gave me something to think about as I travel to a new church, but as I read his article my mind made more connections than he had written. Perhaps the connection was implied, but as I read Hogan’s thoughts about artists and the church of the 21st century, all I could think about was Europe and the 17th century. Okay, not just the 17th century but a whole chunk of history when there was only one church and much of life revolved around the church. I remembered my art classes (those few I was required to take), the architecture of the great cathedrals that I have seen and I remembered discussing these magnificent buildings in seminary.

For centuries, artists were a part of the church community. With the rigidity of their ritual, I doubt that artists were involved in worship as they sometimes are today, but just look at where they were involved. In the cathedrals that our forbearers left behind, there are demonstrations of the skills and talents of magnificent artists of all kinds, people skilled with glass, with stone, sculpture, architecture, sound, and light. Many of the great composers of these centuries created music for the church or wrote for the glory of God. As I read Hogan’s blog I wondered, ‘Why don’t we see artists in our churches like this today?” Surely there are still people of great skill and talent in our communities. Surely God is still in the business of dispensing this skill and talent to his people, the people who are likely attending church somewhere. So why is art so inconspicuous in the church?

I admit that there are places like Willow Creek and Saddleback that have fabulous bands and multimedia presentations and who invite dancers and other artists to bring God praise. What comes to mind are all the churches that exist only in the practical. They look plain on the outside and on the inside they look like they were decorated by me (that’s not a good thing). I spent a career in engineering and my first instinct is toward the practical, functional and the useful. Terms like colorful and inspiring do not roll off of my tongue easily. But if God is still inspiring artists among God’s people as he surely did three centuries ago, what must they be thinking? If even I think that the inside of our churches look kind of colorless and plain, we must be causing great pain and sorrow in the hearts of our artists.

Either that, or we’re chasing them away.

God has given artists an ability to communicate his love to the world through human passion and emotion instead of only logic and reason. Could it be that the artists in our community feel unwelcome before they even step through the door of our church? God has seen fit to give me some facility with the spoken and written word, but while music speaks to my heart, I have only a limited ability to use it. Don’t even ask me to create or even understand the visual arts. We live in a multimedia culture and the hearts of humanity must be reached through the languages of art and inspiration but somewhere, in the last century or two, the church forgot something. Somehow, too many of us thought that the age of reason meant that words alone could convince the world of our sincerity and communicate God’s message but doing so forgets about communicating the wonder and the mystery of God. Doing so neglects the heart and the passion that speaks to the souls of humanity.

If we want to tell the world about God’s love for them, we need our artists back.

We need to reach beyond the functional, beyond the logical and touch the hearts of people in ways that reason and practicality cannot. Our churches need to welcome our artists home again. We must make our church a place where artists are free to use their gifts to communicate God’s love to the world. As a pastor, I must do what I can to make artists welcome in my church because our artists can reach the hearts of people in ways that my words never will.

Illegal Immigration – In Search of Justice (Part 2 of 2)

PastorPartridge Sermon , , ,

Immigration activists argue that the people crossing the border are no different than all the other immigrant migrations that our nation has experienced in previous generations. The argument is that these people are indeed the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free that we’ve invited to our shores in Emma Lazarus’ poem engraved on the Statue of Liberty. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_New_Colossus) Activist would have us understand that these migrants are simply coming to our shores in search of a better life and that we should therefore treat them with compassion and respect.

Arizona has had law enforcement officers shot and killed in an immigration related shootings, crimes committed by immigrants, including murder, is increasing and drug cartels have reportedly put a bounty on all law enforcement officers. From their point of view, it is glaringly apparent that something has to be done immediately, but after asking for Federal assistance, and receiving none, for more than twenty years, they felt compelled to take matters into their own hands. Worse, after the attacks of 9/11 and multiple terrorist plots on our homeland, our porous border is leaking not only Latino migrants, but potentially hostile Arab ones as well. (http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2005/jun/30/20050630-124933-1494r/)

If we pay closer attention, there are more than two sides that need to be considered and we can find people of faith on all sides. Migrant activists claim that our current process of legal immigration is too slow, too difficult, too expensive and generally too cumbersome. From their point of view, this lack of fairness is reflected in the rising numbers of migrants who feel compelled to flaunt the law in search of something that is unavailable at home. They question whether heavy-handed legal enforcement (or worse, outright prejudice) is necessarily directed at people whose only interest is in finding employment and caring for their families. Their opponents point out that, as an immigrant nation, we welcome newcomers to join the millions of us who have already come here but we invite them to do so legally. They ask, why we should not legitimately separate those who wish to join us as fellow citizens and those who wish only to use us as a convenient income stream but who do not desire to accept the responsibilities of citizenship.

On another side, we hear that the jobs being sought are jobs that American citizens don’t want. Still, others argue that when at least ten percent of our population is actively seeking employment (and some estimates double that), it seem doubtful that so many of our fellow citizens would refuse work of any kind.

The more we look at our immigration problem the more it is apparent that there are far more questions than answers. Why are asylum seekers who come to our shores seeking protection persecution, religious and otherwise, being systematically imprisoned? (http://www.humanrightsfirst.org/pdf/090429-RP-hrf-asylum-detention-sum-doc.pdf) What should we do with the children of illegal immigrants, children who were born here or who speak only English and who have known no other life than the life of an American? (http://www.kevindhendricks.com/2010/05/19/immigration-protest-its-not-about-us/) In this maze of questions it is apparent that our current system of immigration is in dire need of reform. Currently it seems to be unfair to everyone, immigrants, citizens, border-states and others.

I don’t pretend to have any answers but one thing seems obvious. Name-calling isn’t going to help. Partisan bickering and finger pointing isn’t going to provide a path to a solution. Everyone seems to have real issues that need to be addressed. Immigration needs to be reformed. Our current system is unwieldy, slow and expensive. Arizona and other border states are constitutionally entitled to a secure border. National security demands that we prevent terrorists from crossing our borders at will. In each instance, we need to find a way for human beings – regardless of their political motivations or immigration status – to treat one another with respect, compassion and justice. If a solution exists, it can only be found by having a reasoned and intelligent conversation, we will have to have an open mind are be willing to hear – and listen to – arguments from every sides.

The truth will not be found in the black and white but somewhere in the stew created by the gray in-between.

Illegal Immigration – In Search of Justice (Part 1 of 2)

PastorPartridge Sermon , , ,

Before I begin, I want to be clear that I have a significant personal interest in immigration. Both of my maternal grandparents immigrated to the United States after WWI and my father’s family also traces its heritage overseas (though somewhat more distantly). My Mother-in-law is an immigrant and my wife and I filed all the paperwork, wrote all the checks and visited all the government offices necessary to adopt and naturalize our three children. Having said that, I also note that all of these immigrations followed the legal processes required by our government even when they were unpleasant, expensive and time-consuming.

There is a lot of talk about immigration lately, specifically, illegal immigration. Most of the voices are loud and, unfortunately, most are quick to dismiss and even disparage any differing points of view. As is the case with many of our political discussions of late, I suspect that we won’t travel very far in the right direction (if at all) unless we have an open mind are willing to hear – and listen to – arguments from both sides.

Arguments over immigration most often seem to center on “fairness” and “justice” and while are important principles, we cannot allow our personal view of fairness and justice to blind us to what is fair and just to others. A one-sided view of what is just abandons real justice before it begins. To be truly just and fair, again, we need to determine what is fair and just from (and for) all sides.

Lately, the furor began when the State of Arizona enacted a law that allows the state to enforce existing Federal immigration laws. Arizona has since been accused of being anti-immigration, racist, fascist, and worse. In their own defense, Arizona insists that it only did what was necessary to secure is borders and to protect its citizens. So what is the truth? Like many things, the truth is not so black and white and seems to be a stew created in the gray in-between.

Immigration has been a hot-button issue for a long time. For as long as I remember being politically aware (since the Reagan era and a little before) there has been no clear consensus on immigration, especially as it relates to our Southern neighbor, Mexico. What I do remember is that border states, like Arizona, have been asking the Federal government (the part of government that is constitutionally responsible for border security and enforcement) since before the Reagan administration and from every administration, Republican and Democrat, ever since. President Reagan was known to be one of those rare persons who was able to create legislation that had true bipartisan support. Immigration reform was among those laws that were passed under his watch. The Reagan era immigration reform provided amnesty to migrants who had become permanent residents in the United States and 1.7 million of the estimated 5 million illegal migrants became legalized American citizens.

The Reagan era amnesty law was a great bipartisan success, but is also believed to be one of the root causes of our current dilemma. In order to secure conservative support for a bill that included amnesty, promises were made to increase border security and to make it more difficult for employers to hire non-citizens. The stated goal was to reduce the numbers of illegal migrants and amnesty was intended to be a part of doing that. Since then, while the amnesty part of the law was very successful, the enforcement part has not and we’ve increased from 5 million illegal immigrants to 12 million. The law that was intended to reduce the problem did nothing and perhaps made it worse (http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2008/jan/06/rudy-giuliani/yep-reagan-did-the-a-word/).

Today, we have pro-immigration voices shouting for more amnesty but those who have longer political memories see the world differently. If we remember the Reagan amnesty, a solution that clearly didn’t work, we might honestly question whether another amnesty program can be some kind of magic bullet.

Our church, The United Methodist Church, has been an advocate of social justice for over two hundred years and so it is naturally important to us to speak out for those who have no voice in our institutions and in our system of government. This view is not only the view of our founder, John Wesley but well established in scripture (Exodus 23:9, Leviticus 19:34, Deuteronomy 24:17). But again, we cannot choose to wave a banner of social justice without considering what is just for all parties involved.

(next week – Part 2)

Re-evaluating the things we value

PastorPartridge Sermon , , ,

Our house in in chaos.

No matter where you turn there are piles of stuff everywhere and even higher piles of boxes. Of course, we’re moving. I suppose I’m thankful that we’re not moving across the country or overseas, but once everything is in the back of a truck I don’t know that distance matters too much.

For the last six years I have had the distinct pleasure of being the pastor of two churches in Central Ohio, Johnsville Grace and Steam Corners. As a pastor in the United Methodist Church, I (and my colleagues) serve as an itinerant minister. That means that I don’t have to find a church where I can be in ministry and it means that local churches don’t have to conduct extensive pastor searches when they feel the need for change. It also means that we have to move when the bishop says we should move (there’s a little wiggle room in there, but not much). The end result is that after a series of meetings and interviews, my family and I are moving to Barnesville, Ohio and on July 1st, I will become the pastor of Barnesville First United Methodist Church.

Moving sucks pond water.

I despise the hassle of packing and changing schools, doctors, grocery stores, pharmacies and uprooting nearly every aspect of my life. On the other hand, I have begun to see an unexpected value in moving. Moving causes me to re-evaluate the last six years of my life. I have had to reexamine my call to ministry, the engineering career that I left behind, and I’ve had to take a hard look at what I have accomplished where I am. When we move our belongings, we take a look at a lot of stuff that never got a second glance most days and we need to decide if these things are worth keeping. In the same way, I find that I need to do these things with my ministry. In six years I have done a lot of stuff and I have met with a lot of people. Some of that stuff, and some of those memories are real gold but, like my stuff at home, mixed in with my treasure is a fair amount of useless baggage that I need to leave behind.

The process of getting rid of my kids outgrown clothes and broken toys is useful and something we probably ought to do once in a while. It’s too easy to stuff things in the basement or in the attic but moving forces us to make choices. The process of leaving behind the things I’ve collected in six years of ministry is sometimes even harder but in the process I’ve discovered some things that have real, lasting value. There are people who have been real friends. There have been incredible acts of kindness and generosity. There have been real life transformations. As I leave, and as I reevaluate, I can see that God has been at work in me, in this place and in these people.

Amid the chaos and the pain… I’ve discovered real gold.