July/August 2007

Dear Friends,

Pastors like to think of their job as leading a flock of faithful toward spiritual growth, offering opportunities for parishioners to come into a deeper and more meaningful awareness of the love of Jesus Christ permeating their lives. That’s what we like to think. And sometimes that’s true. Sometimes we actually manage to light a fire of faith that nurtures someone’s zeal for God’s kingdom. But a lot of times we’re not setting the world on fire with God’s love; we’re putting out fires around the church. We dash from here to there, dealing with financial crunches and plumbing emergencies, trying to sense without being told who’s mad at whom, or whose feelings got hurt when a good deed went unacknowledged or when we failed to give a call to someone at the right time. We struggle to find enough volunteers to make a successful event, or try to rally the morale of the troops when we actually do have a big cadre of workers for a program and no one shows up to attend it. I’m not complaining; I’m simply musing today about how often my job is to put out fires. Just this morning, while corralling 30 youngsters at Christian Arts Camp, I had to figure out how to get a wayward bat out of the church without setting off a riot, and in the evening literally had to put out a fire! Well, okay, it was mostly out when they came and got me, but I helped. It seems the cigarette receptacle outside the building went up in flames when it got overly full of cigarette butts and the last one thrust inside set the inside pile ablaze. No damage to the church, and once again, thanks to Erik for compulsively keeping our fire extinguishers handy and charged.

It turns out that when Doug Stewart donated that receptacle several years ago, just before he and Jackie moved away, it never occurred to anyone that it might be their job to empty it. Hardly anyone at the church smokes here, and the folks at A.A. who use it figured we were emptying it. So the receptacle was installed, and as near as I can tell, never once emptied. It was a simple, easy task, but it was no one’s job, so it didn’t get done, and the next thing you know, we’re putting out fires. Juxtapose that crisis to the generosity of my volunteers at Christian Arts Camp, some of whom approached me and said, what do you need; I’ll take care of it – and did. We’re able to provide fun Bible teaching to a riot of bat-frenzied children because a number of people stepped up, looking for ways they could help. Maybe the reality is that we’ve been spoiled by our most committed members, many of whom constantly take on jobs that were never assigned to them, and we may not even be aware which angel it is who takes care of that particular duty because it always gets taken care of.

One of the last pieces of advice Doug Stewart offered me before he left was to really take ownership of the church, the whole church, from the smallest piece of litter in the parking lot, which should indeed be my responsibility to pick up if I notice it, to the largest and most noticeable needs. Is it the pastor’s responsibility to unclog toilets? Yes, if it needs to be done and our never-ceasing Building & Grounds workers are dealing with something elsewhere. But it’s also your job. We all need to take ownership of the tiniest and greatest needs of our church. That’s stewardship. Look for a need and fill it. Step up without being asked. If everyone did that, we’d spend much less time putting out little fires, and more time setting the world on fire with the love of Jesus Christ.

Thanks for all you do, and for all you are. Have a great summer!

Peace and joy,

Martin

To read Martin's letters from past months, please click here.