A pastor’s words for the people he serves..

Did you know Love has a smell?? Sometimes it smells delightful. Other times, it can smell downright horrible. Love often smells when we give it. It can also smell when we receive it. Sometimes Love smells so wonderful that we want more and more of it, like a dessert we can’t stop eating. Other times, however, its awful odor so overpowers us that we try to run from it. But it’s never wise to run from genuine Love.

Not following me? I’ll explain by sharing the smells of Love in my life today as I gave and received it…

Stains from minerals in our water seem especially pernicious in our Parsonage Master shower. My wife likes a clean home. But the smell of most any cleaning agent bothers her nose. She left for school with our boys this morning and won’t be back until this afternoon. As soon as the garage door closes, I spray enough stuff in our tiny shower to disinfect a hospital wing, scrub for a while, crack a window, and shut the door. I’ll rinse it out this afternoon.

The strong smells filled my nose, rather than my wife’s. She is loved.

A reminder dinged on my phone. I need to buy bread and salad before Renovation Community’s 5:30 Wednesday dinner tonight. Some of our church family will prepare spaghetti, meat balls, and garlic bread. Any of our food-insecure church family and guests will drive (and be picked up) to receive a big meal and leave with leftovers after our 6pm Wednesday activities.

As they enter our building and microwave their leftovers the next day, the smells of Italian food will fill their nose. They are loved.

I pull out from home with my dog in the backseat. We’re on our way to a park where we walk 3 miles. I see a special-needs friend, on his own daily trip to the grocery store for snacks. I’m normally returning home as he’s returning from the store. But my morning cleaning gave me a late start and I offer him a ride. I quickly crack all the windows. Rancid body odor and the stench of urine fill my van. He exits the vehicle at the store and I immediately inspect the seat, hoping he hadn’t wet himself. Nope. All dry.

But his overpowering smells linger in my van. He is loved.

Our dog and I arrive at my favorite park. He and I need the exercise. But more than that, my soul needs to walk down wooded paths. I need to be surrounded by trees, feel the sunlight bouncing through the leaves, see birds and squirrels hopping around branches, and hear water flowing down the river.

For 3 miles my Heavenly Father restores my soul outdoors while I bask in a symphony of outdoor smells, all created by Him. I am loved

I get back in my van, a gift from a beloved friend several months ago. Our dog (a gift from friends 3 weeks after our first dog died) pants heavily in the backseat. Both are beautiful gifts from my Heavenly Father.

The smells of warm leather seats, Nature, a happy dog, and lingering odors from my special-needs friend fill my nose on the drive home. I am loved.

What are the smells of Love in your life today? Both the good and bad ones may smell entirely different from mine. But pay attention. They are there.

One last thing…
Don’t fall into the trap of only seeking the good smells of Love. For even in its most rancid-smelling forms, Love is still Love. And since “God is Love,” that means He is in both the sweet and the foulest of smells you may encounter (or avoid) today.

Shortly before Christmas I officiated a memorial service for a woman I didn’t know. As I planned the service with the widowed husband, he sent me a copy of his written eulogy– over 5 single-spaced pages of precious memories. It took him almost 10 minutes to read it during the service.

This man’s marriage reminded me of my marriage in countless ways. She was a popular, confident, take-action, high-caliber achiever; he was an affable but unsure man who leaned on her for encouragement and help over the years.

It was abundantly clear: this man ADORED his wife. And he spent 10 minutes telling everyone about the remarkable bride he was privileged to love. I started worrying the longer I listened… how will this man survive without the love of his life by his side??

And then I wondered,
‘Did he share these feelings with her while she was alive? Did he share these praises about her with others? Did he share only on special occasions, as many of us husbands are prone to do? What about on other random days during the year?’

I don’t know if he’d shared all those feelings while she was alive, but I immediately made a resolution as I listened on that pew…

If Kelly passes before me, my eulogy of her will consist of praises she and others have heard countless times. No one would ever question if I’d shared such sweet praises about my wife while she was still alive.

I thought of that widower husband as I glanced at a printed copy of his wife’s funeral program this week. So today, I make good on my own personal resolution…

Proverbs 5:18 instructs husbands to “rejoice in the wife of your youth.” In a modern, American, Anglo-dominant culture, we English readers tend to read “rejoice” as something like “think happy thoughts about.”

From our cultural perspective, someone may “think happy thoughts about” another person without outwardly acting or saying anything out of the ordinary. But in ancient near-eastern cultures, feelings were expressed VISIBLY AND VOCALLY. [Even today, picture the funeral scenes on the news of tragedies in the Middle East and Africa. Or think of an orthodox Jewish celebration. Throngs of men and women yell, sing and cry loudly, and gesticulate in ways not as common in countries with historic European cultural/ethnic influence.]

The same Hebrew root word used here is used in numerous other passages to describe public praise of God.

So no ancient Jewish husband would hear those words and merely conclude “think private happy thoughts about your wife,” but “think happy thoughts about her that generate into private AND public praise.”

In fact, the famous “Proverbs 31 Woman” poem (“Eshet Chayil”) eventually became part of the weekly Jewish Shabbat family rituals. Before many Jewish families share a meal together on Friday night, they sing or recite these Biblical verses as a praise to the wife/mother of the house. Jewish tradition ensured the hardworking women preparing the Shabbat family meal would receive focused, verbal praise before anyone ate. Guests at the table? They’d listen in (or join in) as husband and children praised their tired wife and mother. I suppose it might have felt awkward for some wives to stand there receiving such public praise. But awkward or not, the hard working woman deserved the family’s praises, which began with, “A woman of valor, who can find? For her price is far above rubies…”

How many exhausted mamas/wives would appreciate sincere praise like that each week?

Publicly praising my bride is an act of obedience and worship to the God who made marriage to my bride possible.

[And to my fellow Christian husbands: “Rejoicing in your wife” isn’t just for the more romantic husbands, or the ones who tend to share their feelings more openly like I do. It’s not only for husbands with so-called “great” marriages. Rejoicing in our wives mirrors how Christ rejoices in His Bride, the Church. Christ’s Bride isn’t perfect. Yet He never stops delighting in Her.]

One of the greatest joys in my life is to tell Kelly and others all the ways I rejoice in her. And you, too, should worry if she goes before me. 😉

Sweetheart,

You most definitely are the wife of my “youth.” We first met at 13, dated for a while at 15, started dating again at 19, and married at 21. I still remember the first time your hand brushed against mine as my dad drove us in the car. We were such babies! We’ve already been together for more than half of our lives. And every day spent with you is a precious blessing.

You have patiently endured countless difficulties that came our way. You have managed our home with wisdom, fun, grace, and valor. You have taught our boys generosity, kindness, sensitivity for others’ feelings, and how to communicate their own feelings in positive ways.

You have remained a stalwart rock amidst my tumultuous vocational ministry.

You have extended loving interest to all who see you as “the pastor’s wife.”

You have stewarded a tight budget with care, while always remaining generous to others. Even when I’m not home, you have graciously served the hungry homeless who ring our doorbell.

You carefully consider what you will attempt or what path you will choose, and then always excel at your endeavors.

You thoughtfully practice discretion in all your words and actions, sensitively considering others’ feelings.

You rise early to care for your own body before you care for others in our home, ensuring we live healthy lives.

Scripture says, “beauty is fleeting.” But I’ll never notice if your beauty flees because God daily answers my prayer that you would be my constant ‘plumb line’ for Beauty. Every time I behold you, no matter how you look in that moment, the Lord graciously ensures you are Beauty Personified in my eye.

I honor you for all that you have done and all that you are. And it has been, and will always be, an honor to be your husband.

You are one of the most remarkable people I know and it’s joy to share life with you each day. Thank you for all the ways you make life special for the boys and me. You bring laughter, stability, and grace to our family as you selflessly serve. Our boys are blessed to have you as their Mama. I am blessed to have you as my wife. And I cherish each private and public opportunity to “rejoice in the wife of my youth.”

---

“A woman of valor, who can find? For her price is far above rubies?”

“Are you going to keep looking for other sheep or will you faithfully shepherd the people God gives you?” —words from a veteran pastor to me in early spring 2014.

***

Though Kelly and I didn’t move to Fort Worth and begin serving in-person until June 2013, I officially became the pastor of (what is now called) Renovation Community 10 years ago today. I’ll never forget those words shortly after the Palm Sunday worship service March 24, 2013 when I heard, “Congratulations, you’re the new pastor.” This milestone has caused a longwinded reflection on the last decade…

I was hot stuff when I started pastoring 10 years ago. With 2 ministry degrees, I knew A LOT. Anything I didn’t know, I could quickly research to answer.

Basically, with my formal training, intellect, and sheer awesomeness, I’d have this long-struggling congregation turned around in no time.

I was a self-righteous, arrogant punk. And my Heavenly Father didn’t want some self-righteous, arrogant punk leading a 50+ year congregation that was near to His heart.

So He humbled me.

Pick any area of my life— marriage, church, church finances, family finances, parenting, physical health, mental health— it was failing.

My intellect wasn’t saving our church or anything about my life. And my sin was making it all worse.

Furthermore, I resented the types of people God kept bringing to our church. The ‘Church Growth’ experts told me the types of church attendees we needed to grow in a big city: stable, educated, tech-savvy, healthy, middle-class young families, preferably with white collar jobs that gave them Paid Leave, Vacation, and Benefits [because they have ample money, skills, volunteer time, and are usually off on Sundays]. And it certainly would make things easier if they had a church background, so they won’t need to be taught as much about how “churchy” things work.

But God kept bringing us unchurched, unstable, poor (even homeless), physically and/or mentally unhealthy single people who couldn’t keep jobs or often worked low-paying weekend shifts. Many were not ready-made ministry leaders and could hardly pay their bills (not a way to build a strong giving base). Meanwhile the stable, tithing church members slowly drifted into other congregations.

And a whole host of people never attended our worship services but began viewing us like a Rescue Mission.

‘Would I keep looking for other sheep or faithfully shepherd whatever people God gave me?’

Almost 10 years later, you know the path I chose…

In the last few days, as our church’s most visible representative, I’ve:

-spoken with 4 moms, each leaving toxic and abusive relationships, who now or very soon will need housing.

-received a photo from one of those moms of her ex-boyfriend. She placed a restraining order against him; I asked for his picture in case I saw him being where he shouldn’t.

-given food and water to chronically homeless men at our doors.

-counseled an understandably-concerned young mom I’ve never met who has a homeless Addict living on the other side of her backyard chain link fence.

-given multiple rides.

-paid small bills.

-provided shelter.

-reminded a homeless friend at an intersection about our weekly Dinner Church.

-given clothing, toys, and several household goods to two single moms.

-organized delivery of a donated couch to those moms.

-shared job information with the jobless.

-helped a church member in the hospital who has no family within a quick drive to his home.

-prayed with numerous people who attend no church and openly share that, if they did attend church, they wouldn’t feel comfortable in any other than ours.

-facilitated a new professional Counseling ministry that provides services far below market rates.

-had multiple meetings with leaders from another church looking for a new place to worship; they can’t really afford the rate hikes there if their lease renews.

He is faithful. God has never once failed us as we give to those who cannot repay and invest in those who don’t show some sort of “return on investment,” as some Church Growth strategists crassly put it.

And since God began to humble me as a new pastor in 2013, I have learned:

-God doesn’t need my supposed “knowledge” to accomplish His mission.

-I don’t know how to numerically grow a church like I thought. 🙂

–I most desperately need God’s Spirit, not knowledge, to sustain me every hour of my life.

-though my upbringing and outward behavior may be different from some whom I serve, I desperately need my Savior’s mercy, forgiveness, and guidance as much as they do.

-much of my good fortune in life has more to do with an upbringing I did not choose than from choices I intentionally made.

-that Christ builds His Church with people the world (and even many Christians) often overlook and intentionally avoid.

-that I am blessed beyond measure to follow a Good Shepherd who washed dirty feet and laid down His life for the flock.

To those of you who have prayed, encouraged, financially supported, and volunteered,

Thank you.

You are the human tools our loving God has used to sustain work among people He loves here in southwest Fort Worth.

And to my District Superintendent and the tiny, elderly congregation and church board (many of whom have since passed away) of “Grace Tabernacle Church of the Nazarene” who entrusted leadership to this self-righteous, arrogant punk 10 years ago,

Thank you.

And to all who, for any length of time, have allowed me to be your pastor,

Thank you. Thank you for your patience during my countless mistakes, love, prayers, and support, you have shown to my family and me. It has been an honor to worship with you and serve you as Christ serves us.

***

“To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder and a witness of Christ’s sufferings who also will share in the glory to be revealed: Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, watching over them—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away.” (1 Peter 5:1-4)

“But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.” Submit yourselves, then, to God.” (James 4:6-7a)

“So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” (Luke 17:10)

I have a weird bedtime habit. I fall asleep with headphones in my ears, listening to the same audiobook that’s guided me into sleep for years: God’s Smuggler. I carry on each night just a few minutes further from where I started the prior night.

Brother Andrew smuggled Bibles into Communist countries, encouraged fellow Christians there, and preached and evangelized in their church gatherings.

Words from his biography, plus some other books I’m reading now, have convicted me I haven’t spent enough time praying for God to heal the tremendous brokenness in our immediate neighborhood.

Renovation Community’s Parsonage is the only single-family dwelling on our block, where every other building is a rundown duplex, townhome, or small apartment building.

The constant change in cars reveals the high turnover in residents. And many cars’ constant presence during the day shows how few work regular jobs.

It’s not unusual to find a used condom lying on the ground near our property. Trash and alcohol bottles constantly blow on the streets.

Children far too young to be unsupervised have walked down the middle of the road. CPS has removed children from homes after the terrible neglect I’ve reported.

Piles of everything in an apartment regularly sit on the curb after another tenant gets evicted, lying there uncollected by its former owners until the monthly bulk trash pickup.

Screams from the mentally ill come through our windows. People high on drugs and/or mentally unstable have broken through our courtyard, hopped our fence, and repeatedly stolen our property.

And the brokenness (especially financial brokenness) extends into our own church family, where people struggle to pay basic bills, much less give any meaningful donation to the church.

So lately I’ve been praying more for my street… praying for boldness to reach across racial, cultural, and moral barriers…praying for ‘open doors’ into hurting neighbors’ lives…praying for wisdom on how to provide tangible help that empowers rather than enables… praying for workers willing to join our church and reach my neighbors for Christ.

***

Some of the most heavily-persecuted Christians Brother Andrew visited were those in Communist Romania.

He wrote,

“I met every shade of attitude from the extreme of defeat to the extreme of courage. It was easy to sympathize with the defeated ones. “What can we do?” was such a natural reaction. So many had only one ambition: to get out of Romania altogether.

Oddly though, the more devoted the Christian, the more likely he was to stay put.

In Transylvania we visited such a family. These Christians had a poultry farm that was still, at least partly, their own property.

However, the State had given them a production quota that was beyond their capacity to meet. When they failed to reach it, they had to buy enough eggs on the open market to make up the difference. Year after year this had happened and the economic suffering was great.

“Why do you stay then? So that you can keep your farm?” I asked.

The farmer and his wife both looked shocked. “Of course not. In fact we certainly will lose the farm.”

“We stay because—“ he let his eyes travel across the valley.

“Because if we go, who will be left to pray?””

***

For years God has sustained Renovation Community with unrequested gifts in the mail like this one. I’ve thought He does this to show the world He’s able to provide for those who sacrificially follow Him. Someone I just met described our church’s financial gifts as “manna from Heaven.” For years I’ve believed God wants to show how He still can send “manna from Heaven” when He chooses.

And yes, I think that’s part of it.

But I’m thankful to an unknown poultry farmer and his wife in Communist Romania decades ago. They remind me of another reason God might sustain our church and family on this broken street…

“If we go, who will be left to pray?”

Unlike in heavily-persecuted Communist Romania, I know there’s other Christians who live on my street and around my block. I trust God, too, will inspire them to pray for their neighbors.

Renovation Community, and I have a role to play in God’s plans for the hurting people on our street. I don’t know with certainty how long our role will last. But, to the best of my current understanding, I trust He can sustain our every need for as long as He desires us to stay.

So we will stay as long as God wills.

We will love God and love neighbor.

And our church, and this pastor, will pray.

Kelly Branigan and I have been cleaning and decorating for Renovation Community’s Parsonage Open House (Saturday, Dec 3 Come & Go from 10am-Noon 😉). We’ll also have our church service in the Parsonage Christmas Day at our usual 4:00pm time (which you’re also invited to 😉).

I just put something else on the tree today and felt full of gratitude…
Gratitude for a loving Momma who thought to buy Christmas ornaments to mark milestones throughout her children’s lives (e.g. if you zoom in, just above and to the right of that big cow is a “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament with the date 1985).

As our parents’ tree couldn’t hardly hold any more ornaments, they started giving away some childhood ornaments to my sister and me.

Carrying on that family tradition, there’s hardly a single generic ornament anywhere on this tree. They’re reminders of important childhood moments, vacation souvenirs, pictures of me with elementary school teachers, and gifts from many sweet friends. On the ornaments or their boxes include written notes— who gave the item, when we received it, on what family vacation we purchased it, etc.

Thanks, Momma, for creating a tradition that ensures I re-live these precious memories each year.

And thank you, friends, whose lives and gifts are represented on this tree.

***

[And shout out to that big paper cow I just put up there! It’s “Flat Marvin,” from our family’s favorite podcast Edengrove Presents: God’s Big Story.]