I did a thing. I created three planners for lectionary preachers for the new Christian year. Each week has the lectionary passages for the week and two pages to jot down notes, illustrations, ideas, themes, and all you need to start the sermon planning. There are “at a glance” sections as well to get a scenic view of your preaching plan before diving into the nitty-gritty of each week. Each book is 7×10, leaving plenty of room to write, doodle, and plan. See the pictures below for what the insides look like. They are only $7.99 per book on Amazon. Follow the links below!
I have lived in Salisbury, NC for only two years. Last night, I held the third session of our current study on the podcast Seeing White. A group of parishioners, in response to a sermon I preached on race and the events of our country, decided to walk through this 14 part series to gain an understanding of what it means to be white in the United States of America.
Last night, as we discussed seeing ourselves as white, an infamous statue was being removed from the center of this small city I call home. The statue is called “Fame.” Here is how it described on ncpedia.org; “A bronze statue of the muse Fame supports a defeated and dying soldier who clutches his gun; Fame, a winged figure dressed in robes and wearing a laurel wreath atop her head, holds a second wreath high into the air as if to place it on the soldier. The statue stands on a pink granite pedestal. From the bottom of the pedestal to the top of the bronze grouping, the monument measures almost 23 feet.”
The inscription on the front side of the base says, “In memory of Rowan’s Confederate soldiers that their heroic deeds sublime self-sacrifice and undying devotion to duty and country may never be forgotten 1861-1865.”
As someone new to town, I learned of the rich history of this city. As being the last city before you hit the frontier and how Daniel Boone started many of his journeys from Salisbury. I learned about the Confederate Prison and the thousands of Union Soldiers who died within its walls. Now it is a National Cemetery, which mirrors the graves of Arlington National Cemetery.
This monument was unveiled on May 10, 1909, and was given by the Daughters of the Confederacy. According to a Facebook post by André Resner, Professor of Homiletics and Worship at Hood Seminary in Salisbury, this is one of the speeches given at the unveiling of this monument. “General Bennet H. Young of Kentucky, invoking divine intervention, said the South was “defeated, not because they were wrong or unfaithful in any aspect whatever, but because an overruling Providence decreed their downfall…” He further stated, “Of one thing my friends, we of the South are absolute sure… that… no misrepresentation of facts, no perversion of truth, no falsely written history tortured to meet partisan bias and prejudice, can deprive us before the bar of public justice… for the superb and magnificent contest they waged for a great principal. The sword does not always decide the right. We failed and yet we know we stood for truth.”
Over 50 years after the war as over, in the middle of the Jim Crow Era, this monument was erected. It had me curious, as an outsider, why? Why was it put up so long after the war? I found General Young’s words haunting and telling. “We failed and yet we know we stood for truth.” What truth was General Young talking about?
I cannot conceive of any truth about the Confederacy that, on one level or another, doesn’t include the right to own other human beings. There might be other factors but it doesn’t negate the reality that the Confederacy wanted to be able to continue with slavery.
Yes, young men from Rowan County died in the Civil War. They left behind mothers and fathers who mourn them. This was a sad reality of our country’s history. Out of all the Confederate Monuments, Fame didn’t bother me as much as lifting high a General or slaveholder on horseback.
However, for the large population of African Americans who call Salisbury home, this was still a nod to a time when they were seen as less than humans. This unveiling was only 3 years after three African Americans were dragged out of the local jail and lynched. Salisbury had the nickname of “Rope City” and there is a tree in town known as the “hanging tree.” Fame was a salute to fallen soldiers of the Confederacy, but it was also a reminder to all people of color, of where they belong.
Now “Fame” is removed from the spot it has sat for 111 years. It will go into a cemetery where Confederate soldiers are buried, at some point in the future. In the middle square, at the intersection of Innes St. and Church St., there is bare ground. Ground which can possibly grow something new in this small city. Something that unifies instead of divides. Something that brings people of all skin colors together. Something that moves us forward and beyond racial hatred, lynching, and slavery.
For 111 years, the soil under “Fame” was held under the weight of a monument to people who believed they “stood for truth.” Now it is truly free to grow something new and for that, I give thanks today.
Week 3 of no physical worship in the sanctuary with my congregation. It looks like a minimum of at least 5 more weeks. North Carolina’s statewide lockdown starts on Monday evening.
As this pandemic continues and life is turned upside down, we need to give room in our lives for the little deaths that are happening all the time.
Today, we had planned to do a healing service because it is a 5th Sunday. I was looking forward to anointed heads with oil and giving permission for people to let God in to heal. It isn’t going to happen.
Today, we had planned to have a baptism by immersion at the lake and then have a party with all the confirmands and youth. This was going to be my first immersion baptism but it isn’t going to happen today. Nor is the other infant baptism we had planned for last week, well not yet at least.
In March, we were going to start sharing the work of the Building Team on renovations to the church and plans to build a new parsonage with the greater congregation. We are still going to do this over Zoom, but it isn’t the same as face to face.
We are staring at the reality that Holy Week won’t physically happen. No children waving Palms, no holy communion on Thursday, no loud noise scaring everyone on Good Friday as the tomb is shut, no darkness as the last candle is extinguished. No Sunrise Service with other congregations and no glorious transformation of the sanctuary on Easter morning. My son, one of our confirmands, will not join the church on Easter along with five others. No taste of communion and none of the feels saying, “Christ is Risen” and then hearing a full sanctuary say back, “he has risen indeed.”
My daughter may not have physical graduation from the 5th grade. Her birthday is in April, and our original plans will have to change. School at home is now a reality and a daily reminder that it is not our calling.
These are just a small taste of what I personally have lost. I know there are others in the world who have lost loved ones during this pandemic because of the virus or because of other reasons. They don’t know when they will be able to gather and remember. Weddings will have to be rescheduled. Vacations canceled. Reality has changed.
Psalm 42:11 says, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my help and my God.” This is one of the Psalms of Lament. Lamenting is such a powerful emotional journey, which many of us in modern-day American Christians do not give enough space, time, or permission to experience.
In this Psalm, the author cries out longing for God. “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and behold the face of God?” (Psalm 42:1-2)
In this midst of life with all of these little deaths we are experiencing, my prayer is we will give room to lament, to mourn, to grieve. If not these emotions will bubble up in other ways. We will take it out on our loved ones or in comment sections on the internet. The grief we have for all the changes we are facing will come out. It is natural. It is human. It is okay.
May we admit our longing and what our soul truly thirsts for. May we admit and confess the little deaths we are experiencing every day while in isolation. May we give ourselves permission to grieve and to lament.
God can handle our emotions and knows them already.
Wes Smith and I just wrapped on the first season of our podcast, “Theology of…seeing God in the Ordinary.” This first season we looked at HBO’s Game of Thrones and 10 themes within the series. Each episode we contrasted what we saw on GoT and what is in the Bible. It was a fun first season, and while we are all stuck at home, I thought it would be great to put it all together in one place.
You can head to our Podcast Website or here are each of the ten episodes.
- S01E01 – Power
- S01E02 – Redemption
- S01E03 – Betrayal
- S01E04 – Wisdom
- S01E05 – Society & Class
- S01E06 – Religion
- S01E07 – Sacrifice
- S01E08 – Slavery & Freedom
- S01E09 – Justice
- S01E10 – Morality
Thanks for listening and we hope to be back with a second season as we continue to see God in the ordinary.
We have bounced this idea around for a while, almost two years. Now it is becoming a reality. Tomorrow, Monday, 01/20/2020, Wes Smith and I will launch a new podcast called, “Theology of…”
The premise is easy. Each season we take one piece of culture and talk about ten theological themes within it. For Season 1 we are diving into “Game of Thrones.” Now that the series ended, we can see the full arc of some of the characters and argue about the good and bad in season 8.
Each new episode will drop on Monday morning to be fresh in your podcast cue for the coming week. We have also started a Facebook Page where we can continue the conversations and discussions as each episode goes live. You can also email us HERE.
Dustin Shelton, musician extraordinaire, composed and played our original theme song for the season. You can check out more of his work HERE.
Subscribe now, via the links below, or wherever you listen to podcasts!
We celebrated All Saints Day today in worship. This got me thinking of some of the saints in my life who have gone before me.
My grandfather, William Steven Matthews, Jr., thwacked this note out on a typewriter in 1940. It is interesting to look at what he wrote compared to where we are today. He wasn’t a pastor only a layperson. As he grew up he was very well-read and taught Bible Studies for many years and sang in the choir at his home church. He wrote at the age of 18. Soon he would go into the Marines and into officers school during World War II. If he were to be alive today, I wonder what his thoughts would be with the current state of the church, his beloved United Methodist denomination, and our nation?
What the Church Should Mean to the World
A large factory employs a good-sized personnel to carry on the business of instructing the thousands of workers in the plant in the desires of the executive body of the company. If, for any reason, this personnel were eliminated or failed to establish communication between the executive branch and the workers, millions of workers would be without guidance and direction and the resultant confusion might easily develop to riot or apportions.
The world today is people with nation after nation, race after race, millions upon millions of persons who have lost their contact with the executive power, the guiding hand — God. They have lost this contact because of the absence of the necessary personnel which should establish, maintain, and interpret the communication. This missing personnel is the Christian Church.
In Europe, especially, the Church as an intermediate between God and man has suffered crushing, crippling blows. In Nazi Germany it was rendered all but completely impotent by forces of avarice and greed. The same was true in Italy, Russia, and Japan. Through war the work and influence of the church has been rendered nearly negligible in over half the world. men are running amok in mad attempts to save themselves from each other, wildly floundering about in hysteria without the spiritual guidance which all the world needs.
In these days of chaotic turmoil on other continents, the United States and the rest of the Americas alone stand free from the ravages of war. Here the Christian Church still has influence, still maintains the connection between men and the Power for all-good. It is our sacred duty as thinking people in a free country where free thinking, free speaking, and love of God and His wishes are not suppressed, to support and sustain the church as the great connecting link between the Executive – God – and mankind, His workers in God’s own industrial plant, the world.
I am not upset at the current culture I live in (a small city in central North Carolina in the southeast United States of America). Although, and this is when I know I am turning into my parents, I wouldn’t say I am upset but I am very disappointed. If you grew up in my household you would have known this was a go-to line with my parents as my sisters and I headed into our teenage years. “I’m not upset, just disappointed.”
I am disappointed in the culture I am living in because on Facebook yesterday and today, it seemed all people could talk about was this clip from Ellen’s Show.
Now, I love Ellen and her sense of humor, advocacy, and the fact she likes to scare people. However, my disappointment lies in the fact that this is a thing now. It is a thing for people to criticize others who are in the same room, sitting next to, or even interacting with another person who doesn’t have all the same views in life.
Sure, it is very easy to create an echo chamber that reverberates what we think is right in the world. I have stopped having some of my friend’s Facebook posts show up on my feed because they are TOO out there in their views on certain topics. But here is the reality of life. People don’t always agree. Shocking I know…actually I think it is shocking because we have forgotten that reality.
I am teaching Disciple 1 and we are just getting to the end of Exodus. So far, only two books in, people don’t always agree. They don’t always agree with each other and they don’t always agree with God. Yet, God didn’t stop working through them and God doesn’t stop working through us.
Flash forward to Jesus and we still find 12 people Jesus, the Son of God, called to be his disciples disagreeing all the time. God still used them to start the church. God wasn’t done with them yet.
There are a ton of reasons why this happened, why our culture turned in upon itself. We can blame politics, sports, social media, whatever. Somewhere along the way we have forgotten that people are people, not just ideas, views, or supporters.
I was disappointed people were excited Ellen told people she could be around people who she disagreed with. I was disappointed because that is what life is. We gather around tables in dining rooms, church potlucks, restaurants, or even sporting events with other people who see the world differently. I am disappointed we lost the notion that it is okay. I am disappointed we are now uncomfortable, or somehow forbidden to be with people who hold different views, and who think and process the world differently.
I am reminded of Jesus who walks with those who people are uncomfortable with. Jesus has dinner with sinners, Pharisees, prostitutes, Sadducees, tax collectors, and scribes. He doesn’t wonder if they view the world the same, because he knows they don’t. He still sits next to them and tells them to love each other.
It breaks my heart with disappointment we have forgotten one of the core teachings of Jesus. The simplicity and earthshattering command to “love your neighbor as yourself.”
Thank you Ellen for reminding us but I’m disappointed we so easily forget.
I have shared life with so many. I have walked to death’s door and then celebrated with those left after the door closed. I have held the hands and prayed for a human, fresh out of the oven, and knelt beside the sole survivor of a miscarriage. I have sat across tables and desks from people wondering if this “god thing” is real and if so then why? Why seems to be the question most solicited and the one, after two degrees and two decades of experience, I can’t answer.
I have buried children and married middle life crises. I have proclaimed, “Christ is Risen!” only to see eyebrows bend in disbelief. I have blessed water to claim people for God and passed out the flesh of Jesus to people who snatch it from my fingers tips. I am the preacher to napping and the absent-minded prayer warrior. Some days I walk humbly and others carry a big stick. Some days I’m invited through doors I would rather run from. On others, I’m simply lonely in a room full of banana pudding and fried chicken.
I am a pastor. I am a preacher. I am a minister. I am a reverend. I am a parson.
My experience, my ministry is a selfish motive for when I doubt I look back to those conversations and expectations of hope and faith. When I mourn I remember the promises proclaimed behind all those caskets. When I’m running and hiding in a cave, I remember the one who comes to find all those not looking to be found. When I stand behind the pulpit, wondering if any of my words make sense, I am reminded they weren’t mine to begin with.
Ministry has given me tools to get through life. My soul is etched with experience of the divine and the human. I have witnessed the offering of the widow and the elder son’s tantrum. I have welcomed the woman at the well and thrown a few stones myself. In all the moments of transfiguration and cocks crowing, God, for some reason, still calls to feed smelly sheep.
I am a pastor. I am a preacher. I am a minister. I am a reverend. I am only a person. I carry all the weight of your expectations thrust onto my shoulders. I robe up because this is my calling, my falling, my confession, my obsession, and my profession.
I am a pastor. I am a preacher. I am a minister. I am a reverend. I am a parson.
I am because I AM.
My Instagram feed shared some great pictures of the new class of 1st years starting at Duke Divinity School. They were enjoying food, shaking hands, getting name tags, and doing first day of graduate school stuff. Later that night it hit me…twenty years ago I was doing that. T..W..E..N..T..Y.. years ago!
My age doesn’t get to me. I don’t really care that I am 42. I’ll say it loud and proud. However, the thought I was entering the middle of my ministerial career, or really did a few years ago, did evoke me to take pause.
I graduated from Duke Divinity School on my 25th birthday. The day after I turn 45, in just three years, I will be closer to my retirement (if I retire when I am 65 of course) then I will be to my seminary days. That is hard to believe. What makes it hard is that it doesn’t feel like 20 years ago.
I am not sure what I was expecting life and ministry would be like 20 years after stepping into the shadow of Duke’s chapel. I do remember running from the idea of local church ministry. I do remember feeling completely unworthy and unskilled to be a pastor, preacher, or minister. I do remember God was calling me to this place, but I just didn’t understand why.
20 years later I have served three churches in England for a year and finished up my first year at my fourth appointment. I am married with two kids, one of which is now a teenager. Life has happened. Ministry has happened. God has moved in me, used me, spoke through me, and continues to transform me.
This picture (taken during my second year) has always been in my office all the while and it is from the graduate student camp out for Duke Men’s Basketball tickets. We are around a flag my mother-in-law created and hung at the house my roommates and I rented for the last two years. This is just a small number of people who I met at Duke. Some are pastors, some are not. Some do ministry in local churches, some for the denomination, some for the divinity school, some are doing other things. There are some who I see in the carpool line at my kid’s school.
I can still mentally put myself in the classrooms at Duke, hearing the voices of my professors Hauerwas, Willimon, Wainwright, Efird, Hall, Storey, and others. I reminisce about basketball games, bonfires, Thursday night dinner club watching “Friends,” late nights of reading and writing, midnight frisbee, hard exams, and laughing with wonderful friends.
I am writing this behind a desk, in a church office, when I probably should be finishing my sermon for Sunday. Something I completely enjoy doing and feel called to do in the depth of my soul. However, it was something I ran from my three years in seminary. I distinctly remember going to Duke chapel, sitting on a hard wooden pew, and finally giving in to my calling to the local church. I fought God because I hated to speak in front of people. I didn’t feel capable of being a leader. I didn’t feel like I could do it. Through vigorous theological education, deep prayer, and powerful Field Education experiences, I gave in to God’s call and I have never regretted, even when it has been SO VERY HARD.
20 years ago, this week, I didn’t know what I was walking into when I passed under the stone archway of the Divinity School. My life has never been the
I am thankful for the life-long friends I met there who still pray for me, do ministry with me, and who I could call at any hour of any day to talk and share life with. It was an amazing three years at Duke Divinity School. As I continue to look forward now, who knows what the world and church will look like but I do know for certain God will still be God.
It is President Trump’s fault! No, it is the Democrats! No, it is the Republicans! No, it is the immigrants themselves! No, it is the fault of their home country!
The picture of Oscar Alberto Martinez and his daughter, Angie Saleria M, who drowned while crossing the Rio Grande on Sunday, has crushed me. My heart did a similar thing when the picture of Alan Kurdi, a 3-year-old Syrian boy, drowned on September 2, 2015, in the Mediterranean Sea.
The truth is, although my heart hurt by Alan’s picture, it was still a problem over there, far away, nothing I can do or say about it. Oscar and Angie’s death though was right on our border. There are around 2,000 children in Border Patrol custody on any given day. This problem will not go away. Sure, a picture of a dead father and daughter can pull your heart strings but there are countless others who are suffering who don’t have a picture to document their realities.
Jesus said in Matthew 25:44-45 (CEB); “Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and didn’t do anything to help you?’ Then he will answer, ‘I assure you that when you haven’t done it for one of the least of these, you haven’t done it for me.’”
Does it matter who started the issue at the border, whether it was Obama or Trump? Does it matter if these families, men, women, and children are arriving for a better life or seeking asylum? I keep asking myself, “What hell would I need to escape to risk the lives of my own wife and children like all of these people?” Whatever that reason is, it doesn’t matter.
For decades I have listened to people call the United States of America a Christian country. I have seen time and time again the cross is wrapped in the American flag or vice versa. Over and over we paint the picture that America is a place where the love of Jesus Christ is lived out and professed. But this is more for patriotism than discipleship.
We like to think we are the best country in the world, but it has been a while since we took a long look in the mirror. There are kids…CHILDREN…dying or suffering at our borders and in our custody and we have turned a blind eye. We are happy to ignore it because we don’t take our walk with God seriously enough. We will follow only when it is convenient. Only when it strokes our egos or pushes our agendas.
“We recognize, embrace, and affirm all persons, regardless of country of origin, as members of the family of God. We affirm the right of all persons to equal opportunities for employment, access to housing, health care, education, and freedom from social discrimination. We urge the Church and society to recognize the gifts, contributions, and struggles of those who are immigrants and to advocate for justice for all. We oppose immigration policies that separate family members from each other or that include detention of families with children, and we call on local churches to be in ministry with immigrant families.” [2016 Book of Discipline, Social Principles ¶162.H] But do we truly believe this?
Jeremiah 22:3 (CEB), “The Lord proclaims: Do what is just and right; rescue the oppressed from the power of the oppressor. Don’t exploit or mistreat the refugee, the orphan, and the widow. Don’t spill the blood of the innocent in this place.” But do we truly believe this?
Leviticus 19:33-34 (CEB), “When immigrants live in your land with you, you must not cheat them. Any immigrant who lives with you must be treated as if they were one of your citizens. You must love them as yourself, because you were immigrants in the land of Egypt; I am the Lord your God.” But do we truly believe this?
The way we treat the least of these in our world tells us a lot about our willingness to follow the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The way we detain, separate, and cast aside human beings made in the image of God tells God all God needs to know.
We must do better as a country. We must do better as followers of Jesus Christ. Does it really matter the reason why or should we simply treat these people as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ? We…must…do…better!