Month: November 2021

Watch the drops fall

God has brought me through unimaginably dark valleys since I became a pastor 8.5 years ago. Looking back, my greatest spiritual growth occurred when I didn’t quit or retreat out of those valleys but followed Him through the valleys…walking towards greater sacrificial love and service for others even though I didn’t want to, it hurt, or I felt scared.

“Self-Care” has become an important conversation in religious and non-religious spheres of society (I dislike the bifurcation, but you get the idea).

I replied to a marketing email from a former mega-church pastor who now coaches leaders. Surprisingly, he personally responded to me. As he learned a little about Renovation Community in our email back-and-forth, this man quickly understood my difficult ministry setting and encouraged me to rest. [Thanks Shane.]

In general, this increased conversation on Self-Care is excellent. No one, including pastors, brings glory to God when we’re burned out, irritable, and walking around with cloudy judgment due to an unsustainable pace. But Humanity has the potential to twist and abuse anything good into something unhealthy.

When we hyper-focus on “Self-Care” or disguise our selfishness behind it, we miss opportunities to grow through difficult “Others-Care”: a newborn; an emotional teenager; a sick loved one; aging parents; people in crisis; your struggling marriage.

During my dark valleys, God gave me biographies to read of long-dead Christian missionaries and saints. Often God led these people to serve others in faraway lands with limited medical care where the missionary’s loved ones died from illnesses easily treatable (or entirely avoidable) back in their home country. Stories from Christian predecessors who faithfully endured hardship nourished my soul. They also began to influence my personal and ministry decisions.

In “The Hiding Place,” Corrie Ten Boom recounts living in a Nazi female-only concentration camp with her anemic and sickly sister, Betsie, after being arrested for hiding Jews in their home.

When they first entered their detestable barracks at Ravensbrück, Corrie groaned,

***

““Betsie, how can we live in such a place?”

“Show us. Show us how.” It was said so matter of factly it took me a second to realize she was praying. More and more the distinction between prayer and the rest of life seemed to be vanishing for Betsie.

“Corrie!” she said excitedly. “He’s given us the answer! Before we asked, as He always does! In the Bible this morning. Where was it? Read that part again.”

“It was in 1 Thessalonians,” I said…”Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all…”

It seemed written expressly to Ravensbrück

“Go on,” said Betsie “that wasn’t all.”

“Oh yes” “…to one another and to all. Rejoice always, pray constantly. Give thanks in all circumstances. For this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.”

***

Early as a pastor, I felt God pushing our church towards greater levels of sacrifice to help those who could never repay our church or (in crass Church Growth terms) provide a good “Return On Investment” for our energy. In other words, God challenged me to radically live out the 1 Thessalonians passage Corrie and Betsie read in their concentration camp.

This felt increasingly risky to our bottom-line. After all, most churches pay their bills out of church attenders’ offerings. And many financially stable families don’t want their children around smelly homeless men or unruly kids from hard places when they enter a church building.

Let’s face it, we feel most comfortable around people like us. Few of us naturally gravitate to social settings where we stand out too much. So when it comes picking a church home, wealthy people often flock to churches with other wealthy people. And poor people often flock to churches with other poor people.

My pastoral choices set Renovation Community on a trajectory that, once in motion, would be difficult to reverse. Loving people warned such a path was financially unsustainable…

‘I’d need to take another job, further reducing my time to to grow a church. The much-needed repairs throughout our massive facilities would not happen without enough middle-class attenders to pay for them. Our church’s tiny savings account would quickly disappear.’

Our time and money spent serving society’s marginalized spiked—a new Spanish-speaking church, a summer day camp and feeding program, temporary jobs for the homeless and jobless, housing the recently-evicted, investing in a new Asian-Indian ministry, providing below-market rental space for other ministries, hundreds of hours counseling struggling people, thousands and thousands of dollars given for rent and bill assistance, prescription purchases, car repairs, groceries, medical bills, etc.

Those loving people with dire warnings probably were right: a church like ours is not financially sustainable, not SELF-sustainable at least. Repair bills will never stop. Pipes, roofs, and air conditioners continue to fail. Decades-old carpet must eventually get replaced. Expensive appliances break. Utility rates climb. And if over half our church family can’t consistently pay basic bills, they aren’t likely to put large gifts in our offering boxes.

Since the Pandemic began, our Benevolence expenses have skyrocketed. More a/c units unexpectedly failed. Burst pipes flooded multiple rooms during February’s arctic blast (but our $20,000 deductible meant we repaired it all out-of pocket).

I have a private prayer journal. It’s an email account where I write my biggest prayers. I’ve recorded many in the last year about how much financial stress has overwhelmed me. “Lord, we can’t afford to pay for this building and pay for others’ needs too!”

With each new request for assistance from our community and within our church family, I’ve felt the stress rise inside me. ‘What if another a/c fails?’ ‘We need to renovate more rooms.’

But it was hard to say ‘No’ to honest eyes filled with tears.

Ravensbrück was almost exclusively a work camp that used political prisoners as slave labor. Corrie and Betsie had little risk of being executed like Jewish prisoners at extermination camps; their work was too valuable to the Nazi war machine. But the sisters endured incredibly high risks of dying from starvation, disease, or other illness related to malnutrition. In the camp’s last year of operation, around 80 sickly women died each day.

Corrie smuggled in a Bible to feed their weary souls. And she smuggled in a bottle of vitamin drops she hoped would stave off vitamin deficiencies, especially in her weak sister. But Betsie kept dispensing drops to fellow prisoners. Eventually, Corrie gave in to her sister’s generosity and shared the precious vitamins with others.

***

“Another strange thing was happening. The Davitamon bottle was continuing to produce drops. It scarcely seemed possible, so small a bottle, so many doses a day. Now, in addition to Betsie, a dozen others on our pier were taking it.

My instinct was always to hoard it-Betsie was growing so very weak! But others were ill as well. It was hard to say no to eyes that burned with fever, hands that shook with chill. I tried to save it for the very weakest-but even these soon numbered fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. . . .

And still, every time I tilted the little bottle, a drop appeared at the top of the glass stopper. It just couldn’t be! I held it up to the light, trying to see how much was left, but the dark brown glass was too thick to see through.

“There was a woman in the Bible,” Betsie said, “whose oil jar was never empty.” She turned to it in the Book of Kings, the story of the poor widow of Zarephath who gave Elijah a room in her home: “The jar of meal [flour] wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of Jehovah which he spoke by Elijah.”

Well, but wonderful things happened all through the Bible. It was one thing to believe that such things were possible thousands of years ago, another to have it happen now, to us, this very day. And yet it happened, this day, and the next, and the next, until an awed little group of spectators stood around watching the drops fall onto the daily rations of bread.”

***

I’ve included screenshots in this post of my honest, raw, and fear-filled prayers as well as pictures of recent gifts.

Someone placed a sealed envelope containing the first check in my hand last Saturday night. Although the givers wrote it October 31, the envelope addressed to Renovation Community and me landed in a different church’s offering plate. Counters then gave it to people who knew me, who then passed it on last week. The second large check arrived in the mail this week. The others have all arrived in the mail in the last few weeks.

Dear reader,

If God had never once given our church or my family one extra dollar in a special way, His faithfulness would not be diminished. If Renovation Community closed due to lack of funds, our God’s grace is sufficient.

Our Lord Jesus’ death on the cross reminds us He has given the greatest gift we need— Salvation.

Nevertheless, He often provides much more, including our daily bread. And in our church’s case, He’s provided for our financial needs like a vitamin bottle that always seems to have more.

One day a fellow Ravensbrück prisoner smuggled vitamins to Corrie after working in the camp hospital. But Corrie opened her same trusty vitamin drop bottle that night. She planned to finish it before starting the new contraband vitamins from her friend. But she found the bottle dry and empty. God stopped the miraculous supply on the same day He provided a different supply through human means.

Perhaps God will also stop Renovation Community’s spectacular ‘financial drops’ one day. If so, I trust He will provide in some other more common way.

Until He stops, you are welcome to gather round to ‘watch the drops fall’ on our daily bread.

He is faithful.

Warm chili on a cold day

Two weeks ago on an unusually cold and dreary day, I warmed up a bowl of my wife’s homemade chili for a man with rotting teeth.

An earlier batch of Kelly’s chili fed grieving neighbors across our street after a sudden death in their family about two weeks earlier.

Now this warm meal would feed someone who can hardly eat anything solid. Although this life-long bachelor now has a government-subsidized apartment, he’s been chronically homeless for many, many years. Renovation Community gave him plenty of kitchen utensils but he rarely cooks even simple meals.

Instead, he generally sustains himself on processed food from a convenience store, like canned spaghetti and meatballs. He placed my wife’s bowl back in my hands an exclaimed, “that was REALLY GOOD!”

There’s a Biblical story in the Gospel of Luke, chapter 10, when Jesus visits the home of a woman named Martha. Apparently her siblings, Lazarus and Mary, also lived with her.

Jesus taught listeners in Martha’s home while Martha prepared a meal for her honored guest and his disciples. We read about Mary “listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made” (Lk 10:39b-40).

Martha expresses her frustration to Jesus, that Mary “has left me to do the work by myself.” She asks Jesus’ help in commanding Mary to assist her harried sister.

But Jesus famously replies, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one.”

Sloppy Bible teachers (who, historically and predominantly are men) imply Martha poorly chose cooking a meal for Jesus instead of listening to Jesus.

This neglects the historical fact that many common ancient Jewish homes were small one or, at most, two room structures. Even if Martha had been cooking outside the home while Jesus remained inside, she likely heard Jesus’ every word while preparing that meal.

Of course, just because sounds hit our ear drums doesn’t mean we’re truly processing those sounds. If we are deep in thought, someone could speak right next to us and we might not hear them. And Martha was deep in thought—“distracted,” “worried,” and “upset” thoughts that her sister wasn’t helping.

When Bible teachers suggest Martha’s poor choice lay in her outward acts of cooking and preparing a home for guests instead of sitting at Jesus’ feet next to Mary, they:

1) Convey sexist attitudes that historically female-dominated roles are spiritually inferior to the historically male-dominated tasks of ‘discussing important things’ with other men (but still expecting a hot meal when you’re done with all that hard “man work” 🙄).

2) Ignore the times Jesus explicitly told his male disciples to make the same type of meal preparations Martha had been making.

3) Fail to notice Jesus NEVER critiqued any other person for preparing him food instead of sitting listening to him.

In the Gospel of Luke chapter 4, Jesus went to Simon Peter’s house, where the disciple’s mother-in-law lay sick with a fever. Verse 39 reads, “Then [Jesus] stood over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her. Immediately she got up and began to serve them.”

The context implies this woman did the same tasks as Martha—prepared a meal for her honored guest. Yet Jesus doesn’t chide her with “you should sit and listen to me instead of cooking for me.”

Undoubtedly, this ancient Jewish mama would have been taught to cook and keep house from an early age. She probably was a simple woman from a simple fishing village. Jesus didn’t expect her to be something she wasn’t.

He knows she wants to express gratitude to her healer. Naturally, she expressed it in a manner familiar to her: cooking. And it seems Jesus gratefully received her culinary hospitality without suggesting she should have offered a different Thank You gift.

In Luke 22:8, Jesus “sent Peter and John, saying, “Go and make preparations for us to eat the Passover.” Did these two disciples also coordinate with some of Jesus’ female followers in their preparations? Possibly. Ancient Passover meals did include food typically made by women. Slaughtering the Passover Lamb for the meal, however, was a “man’s task” at that time.

But consider what Peter and John may have missed while out preparing the Passover meal…more of Jesus’ teachings! These men were two of Jesus’ “Inner Three” closest disciples. If, as the sloppy Bible teachers suggest, preparing a meal is far spiritually infeferior to just listening to Jesus teach, why would Jesus have sent two of his top leaders to perform such unimportant tasks?!

And the last Biblical argument against those sloppy Bible teachers comes from all the other times Jesus EVER ate a meal in his life. There’s only two recorded miracles regarding Jesus and food: Feeding the 4,000 and Feeding the 5,000. But he still miraculously multiplied baked bread and cooked fish. Someone (probably a woman) prepared that small meal Jesus later multiplied.

How many meals did Jesus eat in his lifetime? Thousands? Yet we don’t read about him criticizing anyone else for preparing food rather than doing more “spiritual” tasks, like listening to him or any other rabbi.

Even after Jesus’ resurrection, he miraculously enters locked rooms but still personally cooks a fish breakfast over a fire on the beach instead of conjuring the meal out of thin air (John 21:9)

Clearly, Jesus doesn’t have a problem with his followers spending time on ordinary tasks like cooking. So what’s his deal with Martha?!

I think the clues lie with the three words describing Martha’s inner thoughts. [This shouldn’t surprise us since God does “not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7b)].

Martha is “distracted,” “worried and upset about many things.” In other words, while it seems “worshipful” to prepare a meal for Jesus, she lacks the singular focus on Jesus that would turn such preparation into genuine worship.

For contrast, consider Peter’s mother-in-law after Jesus healed her…

In a pre-modern age when “fevers” could kill, how might this woman have gazed in wonder at Jesus while she cooked? As she kneads dough for their meal, I envision her hands working in one place while her eyes stay fixed somewhere else— on the great rabbi who’d just healed her.

But it’s hard to picture Martha that way isn’t it? Instead, I envision her gritting her teeth and huffing as she makes death-stares at her oblivious sister. Martha is cooking a meal for Jesus. But she isn’t focused on Jesus. She’s focused on herself, all the work she’s doing alone, and on her sister who isn’t helping.

Many thoughts, but none of them “Jesus.”

Martha welcomed the great Teacher into her home, but she’s not listening to the Teacher. She’s listening to her own thoughts, on repeat, about her worthless sister. At a pause in Jesus’ teachings, she doesn’t ask for clarification on his parables’ meaning. She asks for a favor, that he would use his clout to get her some help in the kitchen.

Martha’s Cooking Ministry may have begun as genuine worship. But it’s now morphed into something else…something lonely, resentful, and bitter…where she.. where we privately, angrily brood about all who aren’t helping us, instead of gazing only at our Great Healer.

[Lord, save us.]

Jesus, only Jesus, is the one thing needful. Mary’s eyes, gazing into her Master’s, proves she understands that (at least in that moment). Martha’s eyes, burning holes into her sister, proves she’s forgotten that truth (or she hasn’t yet learned it).

This Gospel story isn’t about a “good” sister choosing a Bible study while the “bad” or “self-righteous” sister chooses the “unspiritual” kitchen.

It’s about a Christ-follower temporarily losing her way because she’s “distracted, worried, and upset” that other believers aren’t serving Jesus the same way she is.

[Lord, save us.]

But Martha only needs one thing—to unswervingly keep her eyes on Jesus as she follows him, serves him, welcomes him, cooks for him.

How her sister Mary serves Jesus?? That’s between Jesus and Mary.

And NOW, this long-winded preacher returns to where I started… a man with rotting teeth, eating a Stay-At-Home Mama’s “really good” chili.

As Renovation Community’s “Chief Storyteller,” I get the most credit for the work we do. But anyone familiar with ministries like ours knows such work CANNOT happen without many, many people serving behind the scenes.


I’ve written before about my wonderful wife, who quietly serves the Lord by serving her family at home. At this season of her life, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

She generally avoids any ‘spotlight’ ministry roles to focus on everything her scatterbrained husband overlooks (which is EVERYTHING). Other pastors’ spouses may work alongside them in the job, just like they were another church staff member. But I admire my wife’s confidence in who she is and what she feels called to do. Right now, she feels called to be a Stay-At-Home Mama. She’s qualified for high-paying jobs but is content to work at home without such income and accolades. And no one will successfully pressure her to follow a different Calling.

Associate pastor and awesome Stay-At-Home Dad Jordan Buchner is an ordained Elder in our denomination. He’s fully qualified to serve in a lead pastor role like mine. But his current roles generally revolve around: DIY church construction projects that literally save us THOUSANDS, computer admin work, making toddler lunches, and multi-tasking during his daughter’s nap time.

A faithful woman in our congregation has stood by me amid 8+ years of tumultous church changes since I’ve been her pastor. As we begin to turn a corner on the Pandemic, we’re slowly resuming our all-church meals. Plenty of churches do church potlucks. But in a church like ours, with many food-insecure people and Chronically Homeless who may wander in from the streets, such meals play a vital role in helping struggling people. Not only might we serve them the only home-cooked meal they’ve eaten all week, we bless them with ‘to go’ plates to sustain them later. Any time we do anything involving food, our Fixer Upper Family knows who’s in charge–Donna Mann.

Not only does she consider every detail, her pastoral heart brings people from our church “fringe” closer to the “center” as she asks for their help in cooking, preparing, and cleaning for meals.

I stay in contact with numerous people who call Renovation Community their church home but may only attend a few times each year. When I try to invite them back, it’s amazing how many ask, “Does Donna still attend?” Then they recount fond memories of how this church Matriarch made them feel loved, welcomed, and needed. Donna Mann has Martha’s gifts, without Martha’s hangups.

Why, PLEASE WHY have I gone on and on about all this?

Because as I started writing (what was supposed to be a short post), I suddenly remembered numerous faces from my ministry Undergrad and Seminary years. I know dozens of young men and women who spent thousands, listening to professors lecture on Bible and theology classes in preparation for vocational ministry. But they soon quit, were fired, or never started those ministry assignments after graduation. Many also dropped out of their formal theological studies before they’d completed.

Of course, the reasons for Vocational Ministry Attrition are varied. But even as a naive and inexperienced college student and seminarian, I remember my utter confusion as to why some of my classmates were there. Sure, they loved Jesus. That much was clear. But it often wasn’t clear that they exhibited the so-called “gifts and graces” for vocational ministry in the Church.

And this is where that sloppy Bible teaching matters…

Sadly, it seems some of the older Christians and church leaders in these classmates’ lives pushed my peers into formal theological training when they saw their passionate faith.

“After all, isn’t this what Jesus meant by the ‘one thing needful?’ The obvious next step in this teenager’s spiritual journey is to follow Mary’s path…sitting in Bible lectures for many years.”

Not surprisingly, I watched these classmates become disenchanted with an educational path they weren’t wired for and didn’t enjoy. I watched others persevere through the classes, only to drop out once they finally took a church assignment they probably shouldn’t have taken.

How many Christians have become frustrated in their spiritual journey because other well-meaning but misinformed Christians pressured them towards Mary’s path of ‘lecture listening’ when God really intended them to follow a path that looked more like Martha’s, something like housekeeping, cooking, or event planning?

*Martha’s problem was NOT the work she did, but her attitude while she worked.*

Yes, I think Christians should study their Bibles more. But no, they should not all go to seminary.

Yes, I think Christians should spend more time serving their local churches and the world. But no, they should not all strive to be pastors.

May you grow in your faith and follow God’s path for YOU, whether it’s to theology classes or trade school, as Stay-At-Home parent or CEO, Missionary or Machinist.

May the Church not make you feel inferior for not having someone else’s Calling.

God does not need “Marthas” to act like “Marys” or “Marys” to act like “Marthas.”

He needs us [or more accurately, WE need] to recognize the path God has uniquely called us to follow.

EVERY Christian’s faithful path will include difficulties.
After all, his call to “follow” includes a call “carry a cross.” When our faithful “burdens” feel heavy (even a burden like cooking a meal for a large group all by yourself), it’s understandable to want help carrying that burden. And we are commanded to carry one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2).

But in that desire to lighten our own load, may we not pressure others down a path to which Jesus has not called them.

He will sustain you for the journey and ALWAYS give you fellow Burden Carriers at the proper time (though perhaps not the preferred time).

Let Mary be Mary. Because God has created a special task just for YOU today. And it may not require listening to another Bible class or seminary lecture.

Who knows?

With the right attitude and your eyes directed at Jesus while you work, that “unspiritual-looking” task may nourish someone’s soul, like a man with rotting teeth eating homemade warm chili on a cold day.

Broken

Yesterday a mentally-ill chronically homeless woman screamed profanity through the phone, saying she never wanted to see me or come around Renovation Community’s property again. She called back today, sobbing instead of screaming, and uttered heartbreaking words.

I drove to her location and sat with her on a roadside curb next to my Dad Minivan (😎). Anger often filled her face as we spoke.

She’s aged quickly on the Streets but wore heavy makeup, a low-cut spaghetti strap shirt, and no bra.

I usually avoid giving details (sometimes even the gender) about those I serve. But her description may explain the awkwardness I felt as drivers stared and wondered while at a stoplight.
“Is she yelling at a man harassing her?’
“Is he trying to pick up a prostitute?”

At one heated moment, an older man with a military baseball cap in a pickup waited at the light. He glared, with torso turned to his door. I read his intentions. He’d quickly exit his truck and confront me if I raised my voice at the woman or made any aggressive movements.

As the conversation cooled, I called the woman’s brother. But this tired man seemed frustrated I’d even called.

No judgment.

This woman’s mental illness has exhausted me in the short time I’ve known her. Imagine how much worse it feels for hopeless family who have walked this path for years.

Eventually I drove home. Although we regularly provide temporary shelter to those in need, multiple factors make this woman’s stay with us nearly impossible.

She needs a safe place away from men. Less than an hour after leaving, I’d arranged a bed for her at a downtown women’s shelter. Such shelters abide by strict curfews for clients. But they assured me I could bring her at any time tonight.

When my friend didn’t answer my call, I texted her the news. Sadly, she hasn’t replied.

People often ask about our church’s weird name. Why did I choose that?
May this woman’s heartbreaking words on the phone today serve as explanation…

“I’m just so broken but nobody hears me.”

Renovation Community is a church for the unheard Broken. We need Jesus to renovate our broken lives and want to join Him in renovating all that is broken.

There’s room for you, too.

Fixer Upper Army

Police rang Renovation Community’s Parsonage doorbell Sunday night just before 11 PM and walked me to the backseat of a squad car. But they weren’t putting me inside; they were introducing me to a woman already in there.

I met an officer new to this beat a few weeks ago when our new neighbor suddenly died across the street. This officer learned all about all the non-traditional ministry that takes place within our traditional-looking building.

A homeless woman had been staying behind a 24-hour gas station about a mile from us. I’d never seen or met her since she’s only recently returned to the area after living in the warm southern California climate.

She called police after realizing her backpack containing several sentimental items and medicine had been stolen outside when she walked in the gas station. As the kind officers came to help her (but couldn’t track down her bag), conversation turned to the cold front. She wasn’t dressed for it.

So my new officer friend brought the woman to me. But she didn’t have my number. She’d just have to ring the Parsonage doorbell, hope I answered, and ask if this homeless woman could stay in our gym.

I met the cold woman waiting inside the police car and extended a welcome into our building, but explained I already had a frail older homeless man sleeping on a cot inside.

The arthritic man struggles to get up from his cot to walk, and to even stand up straight at times. And he was extremely sore after being hit by a slow-moving car Friday night. [In fact, a church member just took him to the ER yesterday due to his worsening pain.] So I wasn’t necessarily concerned for this woman’s physical safety around him (especially since she’s younger, stronger, and taller than this man). But I knew a man’s presence with her in the gym could still make her uncomfortable.

The two officers, the woman, and I entered the gym so our two homeless guests could meet and ensure the woman felt safe.

As soon as she saw the man, she smiled and said “I know you.” Our neigborhood’s small Chronically Homeless population meet each other pretty quick. She felt safe around the man.

But I still set her up in our gym Women’s Sitting Area, a room that locks to the outside hallway and connects to the women’s bathroom and showers.

I asked, “would you like to take a shower?”

“Ahhhhh. I would LOVE a shower!”

Several years ago a friend donated nearly 200 bottles of small shampoo and soaps she’d collected from frequent hotel visits. We still haven’t finished that bag.

Our new guest received gifts that many of you have donated: bottled water, snacks, shampoo, conditioner, and a freshly-washed towel. Then I said goodnight as her locked door clicked shut.

Over the next couple days, I began to learn this woman’s story. The Streets are cruel to all who live on them, but especially to women. Tuesday she walked to meet a man who also lives on the streets and invite him to stay in our building.

He seemed interested in the offer but suddenly changed his mind. She now stood in the dark, outside a fast food restaurant nearly an hour’s walk from our property. I answered my phone at 7pm to hear her apologetic quivering voice. She hadn’t planned to walk back in the dark alone. Could I come get her?

We discussed her next steps to begin true life-change as we drove the short trip back home.

Yesterday morning she began to cry as she shared, “I feel like you really understood me last night and that I can get help here I can’t get from a shelter.” I thanked her for her kind words and then explained how the women from our church can walk with her through the vital steps in becoming self-sufficient–replacing the stolen IDs and food stamps card, re-filling her medicines, and finding clothing in our Clothing Pantry. She could even build friendships with some of our ladies who have been regularly helping us around the property during the week.

Especially after living on the cruel streets, most men make her uncomfortable. So the thought of making friendships with safe women within our church overwhelmed her with joy as she rattled off a happy, tear-filled response…

“I love listening to music and God really speaks to me through songs. My favorite song is called ‘Rescue’ with a line where God says ‘I will send out an army to find you in the middle of the darkest night.’ And that’s what He did the night I met you! And now I’ll get to meet more of His army with these other ladies!”

Last year I preached through 52 major Bible stories during our church’s Sunday gatherings. I found an old bulletin last week from my message on Gideon with the sermon title “Strength Made Perfect In Weakness.”

If you’re not familiar with the Biblical story of Gideon, it’s about how God used an ill-equipped leader with a tiny army to rescue Israel from foreign invaders who had been oppressing the people. Gideon assembles men for battle but God keeps whittling away the army until there’s only 300 soldiers. Eventually God led Gideon to an illogical battle plan that no sane ancient or modern military strategist would have ever used, involving trumpets, flaming torches, shattered clay pots, and screaming. It was very weird.

Although God used Gideon and the tiny group of men to defeat hoardes of Midianites, He worked in such a way to prove the defeat was truly miraculous. A brilliant military leader couldn’t have led 300 ragtag men to such a victory, much less a man like Gideon with no apparent miliatry background. Israel’s enemies begin attacking each other while Gideon’s men blow trumpets and shout.

This strange story reminds us our omnipotent God has paradoxically chosen to partner with the weak, imperfect, and incompentent.

I often describe Renovation Community as a “Fixer Upper Family.” We’re like that broken-down house in the neighborhood, in desperate need of repairs. But we’re also a group of people desiring to join Jesus as he fixes up all that is broken in our world. And “family” seems like a fitting word to describe how we all interact in our small church.

But my new homeless friend revealed another side of us…

For some, like this woman, we are their Fixer Upper Army. As the lyrics of her favorite song say, our church was part of God’s army He “sent out in the middle of the night to find her.”

On the way to school yesterday, our 8-year-old asked if the U.S. has a “standing army” in case we go to war. He’s learned about the concept from his history lessons and several children’s books set during World War II he’s recently read. This led to a conversation about the different military branches and different ways people serve in the military. Eventually the conversation drifted into discussing our military’s total size. ‘How many people are in the military?’ I explained that its total size fluctuates depending on the nation’s felt needs. When the needs feel greatest, the military’s ranks tend to swell, like during World War II.

Obviously, one of our city’s large rescue missions with a multi-million dollar budget can accomplish more for this woman than our church can on our own [which is why we build relationships with them].

But, at this temporary stage in her journey, it seems their large budget and specialists weren’t what she needed most. She needed a safe and quiet place in a familiar neighborhood, a pastor who will listen, and some new friendships with safe women in our church. In other words, she didn’t need a massive “army.” She just needed an old rundown military “fort” to rest her head and a hodgepodge group of untrained soldiers who will love her well.

There’s many wonderful churches in our community. Each of them serve the poor and hurting in vital ways. But I’ve yet to hear of another nearby congregation who helps like we do.

We (a group of broken people with a broken and ill-equipped leader, worshiping together in a broken building) are being healed by Jesus and extending His healing to our neighbors in greatest need.

Like those among Gideon’s army, we are a ragtag army God uses to find those who are walking through their darkest nights.

But, unlike Gideon’s group, we’re not yet 300 strong. So we have room for more soldiers. 😉

The need is great in our neighborhood, friends.

May Renovation Community’s ranks swell a little bit more.

May God lead some of you to join this small, broken army that He sends out “in the middle of the night.”

https://youtu.be/gYR0xP1j4PY

Friend to Bad Guys

I love how my wife decorates Renovation Community’s Parsonage front porch for fall. But this post isn’t for showing off her skills; it’s for sharing God’s power to touch broken lives.

Notice the 3 purple mums here. [But ignore that peeling paint and terrible landscaping. They’re on my to-do list, ok! 🤨]

Kelly looks forward to when a nearby store sells large mums in October for a great price. She then sets out a beautiful fall wreath, silk flower arrangement, pumpkins, and floormat to match the season.

But a man stole two of her mums early last Tuesday morning.

Security cameras throughout our church property have “smart” features that alert me at night to people on our property. Those cameras remain silent when recording other movements, like stray animals or a bag blowing in the wind.

But this man dodged one camera and moved too fast for another. His rapid movements and sly avoidance meant the cameras never alerted me while he creeped outside our front door.

[Someone stole a large potted plant off our church building steps this summer. But due to a recording glitch, we only saw the man’s lower body. I compared footage from this summer and last week. Both thieves wore identical shoes. It seems this wasn’t his first porch theft.]

He raced back to a car and drove away into the night.

Two mornings later, I met two new homeless men staying across the street from our garage. After chatting for a while, I asked their help identifying my thief. But before I’d even shown the video footage, they guessed who it was, told me his name, and explained his passion for plants. As soon as they saw the man’s face on my phone, they began laughing and said, “Yeah that’s _____!”

[It helps to have friends on the streets. 😃]

So I walked home with a man’s name, incredibly clear video of him, and unique details about where he lived (but not his exact address).

As you might guess, the Case of the Purloined Potted Plants excited our boys. They repeatedly viewed the video footage and asked questions about the man’s motive, whereabouts, etc.

Eventually, I directed our conversation towards praying for those who sin against us. Since the boys already heard the man’s name, I used it to focus our prayers…

[I’ve changed his name below to “Lee.”]

“We should pray for Mr. Lee. Ask Jesus to change Mr. Lee’s heart to return Mama’s mums. But let’s also pray Mr. Lee experiences Jesus’ forgiveness, becomes our friend, and attends our church services. Let’s pray for opportunities to help him.”

Each night at bedtime I led our boys to pray to ‘Dear Jesus, Let us lead Mr. Lee to you.”

Random questions surfaced all week about Mr. Lee.

Our 5-year-old currently categorizes all Humanity into two groups. You’re either a “Good Guy” or a “Bad Guy.”

This led to frequent discussions about: how we label people; how we, too, have made poor choices to hurt others; and how we all need Jesus’ forgiveness.

I reminded them, “Mr. Lee isn’t bad. He just made a bad choice. But Jesus offers forgiveness for our bad choices when we ask Him. And we can offer forgiveness to Mr. Lee, too.”

While preaching Sunday morning, I mentioned Jesus’ tendency to eat with people whom many religious leaders despised– so-called “tax collectors and sinners.” Sometimes Jesus publicly condemned these critical leaders’ blindness (i.e. failing to see their own sinfulness while hatefully pointing it out in others).

Other times, Jesus didn’t argue with their judgmental terminology but simply used it against them…

“It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17).

In other words, criticizing Jesus for spending time with “sinners” is like criticizing a doctor for spending time with sick people.

Jesus always ministers among the world’s sin-sick, extending healing, forgiveness, and friendship. And we, too, may receive His healing when we acknowledge our sin’s cancerous effects.

Late Sunday afternoon I drove with our 5-year-old to associate pastor Jordan Buchner’s house. A struggling neighbor needed a tool for a car repair. Jordan, handyman that he is, has all the cool tools. So we picked it up, delivered it to our neighbor, and then headed home.

That’s when I saw my Mum Snatcher riding a bike into the shopping center across from the Parsonage.

Like any sane parent with a young child in-tow, I followed the man into a store and confronted him. 🤷🏼‍♂️

Confusion filled the man’s eyes when I spoke his name. I sensed the question racing through his mind. Had we met before? The mask obstructing my face further slowed his ability to decide if he knew me.

In my rush to exit our car and find Lee, I hadn’t explained anything to our 5-year-old. He held my hand as we quickly entered the store, asking questions while we walked toward the mens clothing racks in our local Goodwill. Then he heard Daddy say a now-familiar name in a kind and friendly tone.

“Hi Lee. I want to give you the chance to return my wife’s mums to our front porch. I’m the pastor of this church across the street and I live in the church’s house on property. I’ve got you on video [I began showing him the footage] stealing our mums right after you dropped of a donation. That was kind of you to donate items here. But now I want you to return the mums. No hard feelings, ok? We just want them back. I work with a lot of homeless people and people struggling to make it financially. If you need help, our church and I would love to help you. You’re welcome to stop by the house or church building ANY time you need help.”

He hung his head and replied, “Ok. I’ll bring them back.”

Then I stuck out my hand to shake his, which was dirty, rough, and calloused…

“Cool. No hard feelings. I’m serious. And I’ll gladly help you with whatever you need. We’ve got a Thanksgiving supper at 4pm coming up on the 21st. Come be my guest. And we meet Sunday mornings at 10:30. You’d be welcome with us. I’d love to get to know you so we can be friends.”

I shook his hand a second time and then left the store.

But I noticed Lee walk out just as I was driving away. So I rolled down the window to let him see my face.

“Hey Lee! Here’s what I look like without a mask. Stop by the church or house any time you want, ok?!”

Lee returned the mums at 11:25 Sunday night. They don’t look as nice as when they left our porch. Several buds now sit shriveled and dead upon their stems.

But often Sin is like that. Even after we repent and attempt restitution, the damage to ourselves, others, and the earth has already occurred.

But every bud on those plants would have eventually withered and died, anyway.

Lee, however, is no mere mortal. God created him to last forever.

I’ve cropped the videos to all but his hands and changed his name to ensure no one could ever identify him from my post.

I don’t want one momentary sin to define him in our community. This precious child of God is more than the sum of his bad choices.

I trust Lee’s repentant act is his beginning (or returning) journey towards Jesus.

I trust our family’s prayers for this man will not go unanswered, that God will lead our new friend into a transforming relationship with Jesus.

Monday morning we shared the good news with our boys…

“Jesus answered our prayers! Mr. Lee returned our flowers! Let’s keep praying God answers the rest of our prayers for him!”

Later that morning while driving with our 5-year-old, he suddenly asked “Why are you a friend to bad guys?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Mr. Lee. That was bad of him to steal Mama’s flowers. Why are you friends with bad guys?”

That led to a beautiful conversation about how Jesus loves all of us, even the worst “sinners.” And we want to love others the way He has loved us.

Another mum appeared this morning. This time, we found it on the same steps where plants disappeared last summer. But I’ve moved it to our Parsonage front porch for our boys to see. Stuffed in the flowers was a note Lee addressed to “Pastor” that read:

“Pastor, Please offer me 4giveness.”

We forgive you, friend.

We forgive you.

May I always be known as a “friend to bad guys.” Because Jesus has been a friend to me.

****

“He’s a… friend of tax collectors and other sinners!’ (Matthew 7:34)

“I have called you friends,” (John 15:15)