The Five Years

There is so much to tell.  I can barely believe all that has happened in the past year\nor that it all fit in such a short time.  It's not an easy story to tell as there are little strings that connect between events sometimes separated by quite a bit of time.  I'm going to try to tell it, though, in hopes that it will encourage the faith of any who read or hear of it.  I'm not writing to explain myself or others to any naysayers or critics.  There are, and will be, critics.  I'm writing to encourage those who prayed alongside me. . . us, as a church family. . . and fill in any details that may have value in the retelling.  

"The Light shines on in the darkness, and the darkness did not understand it or overpower it or appropriate it or absorb it [and is unreceptive to it]."  John 1:6 (AMP)

This past weekend was the first weekend in several decades that The Highland Vineyard (THV) was not operating in any capacity, under any name.  It was also the first weekend that The Rock Vineyard began operating in a new capacity.  The stories of the past year culminate in those two statements, more or less.  As there are many parts, I'll tell them one at a time, as best I can.

It's tough to know where exactly to start, but I'll start on July 8, 2019.  I got a call from a colleague.  She said, "Aaron, I just took a job in Sarasota, Florida.  I want you to come with me."  I was looking for a job change, and had been praying for relief at work for quite some time--several years, in fact.  I enjoyed working with this friend of mine.  I was sad to hear she would be leaving, however, I had very specific reasons for looking for a job change without a location change.  

January 1, 2015 I officially took on the pastor role at THV.  The first 6 months were perhaps the most difficult months of my life.  In May, after only 5 months, I considered resigning due to a barage of criticism.  I am eternally grateful for Duane, my mentor, pastor, and a father to me in many ways, and for the leading of the Spirit which Duane helped me discern.  In the course of my ardent prayers in those first few months, I felt the Spirit of God impress on me a sense that there would be a difficult season ahead which would require steadfast commitment to seek wisdom from God and follow it without looking at outward signs of success.  

This revelation came on the heels of a decision I had made to begin counting attendees at church, seeking feedback from visitors, etc.  I just felt something very dark about that decision, which on the surface seemed so sensible.  I felt very strongly that God was offering a revelation of the timeline.  I told Mrs. O.  that I believed we were in a season that would last five years.  My job would be to seek wisdom from God and do my best to follow it, and there was a very distinct impression that I was not to complain about how it was going, and God would give me what I needed as I followed.

These revelatory thoughts and impressions came amidst words and prayers from family and friends who knew nothing of the thoughts inside my head.  I got several words of encouragement that I needed to trust God and I would go through a season of "flying blind" and that we were "building roots."  I got words during my prayer time about "plowing the ground" and removing the rocks--preparing the soil.  I also remember a prayer time when God prompted me to remember and consider the experience we had at a previous church where we watched a transformation over the course of five years.  I didn't hear any voices, but if I put words to the distinct impression I got as I prayed about resigning from this new position, those words would be, 

"This is a five-year job."

So, on July 8, 2019 when I got the phone call about Sarasota, I politely thanked my friend for the call and told her I would talk to my wife.  Mrs. O. responded, "how does this fit with your timeline?" referring to the five years.  

"I know," I said, "it's just not the right time."

Knowing how life works out in unexpected ways, we prayed about it anyway, but after a short consideration, I declined to apply.  I didn't ask about the timeline for Sarasota. . . didn't even think of it.  I was sure one of the other opportunities currently in front of me would turn out to be the right one.  In any case, I had an appointment with God at midnight on December 31, 2019.  I was going to stay up until midnight and pray, telling Him how things had been going, and asking about the next season.  

It would be the end of the five years.

This is one in a series of stories about the events of the last year.  If you want, go to the next one: Broken Chains.

The Awakening

It was the summer following my freshman year of college, way back in the 1900's, as my boys would say.  I was living in Boston and attending Northeastern University as a criminal justice major.  I was attracted to NU for their coop program, but not for their location!  I am from the country a little farther north, and I was not happy with big city living.

I was also at a place in life where things were changing internally.  My parents had divorced only a couple of years earlier, which prompted me to begin asking some questions.

Big questions.

I had grown up in church.  I would like to say I was full of faith, but in retrospect, I was full of religion and somewhat unfamiliar with faith.  The big questions I began to ask and the answers I found prompted me to distance myself from the religion which had become so familiar.  I was unable to separate my faith from my religion at that point, so I packed God in a box and left him to collect dust in the attic of my soul with all the other stuff I didn't need anymore.

I was working at my first coop job as a criminal justice major.  I was a security guard at a local hospital.  It is not my favorite of my work experiences.  It's not now, and it wasn't then!  Life was expensive, even at my low standard of living as a student.  At my regular rate of pay, I was not going to be able to make my housing payment for the quarter and I needed a plan.

Maybe this is the right moment to say how significant desperation has been in my life.  It has really worked to my advantage in many ways.  My moments of desperation have been some of the most difficult, most transformative, and oddly, some of the most encouraging moments of my life.

Desperation led to an awakening I didn't realize I was longing to experience.

This was one of those very difficult, transformative, and encouraging moments--maybe I should say seasons instead of moments.

It didn't happen all at once.

In any case, I prayed an emergency prayer, in case there really was a God and he could hear me from the attic . . . in case he really had a plan.  After all, if there really was a God with a plan, being his plan it was likely a good one.  I prayed one of the most significant prayers of my life, though I had no idea how significant it would turn out to be.

I don't remember my exact words, but it went something like this,

"God, if you are there and if you have a plan, I want to know what it is, and I'll go along with it."

This would turn out to be one of the most significant things I have ever done.

In my head, I was using a little bit of reverse psychology, because I was convinced God's plan would involve me going back up north to the country where I wanted to be.  I was sure God would not want me to stay in the city being so expensive and such, but as silly as it sounds, I didn't want to bias his opinion, so I just kept that little secret to myself.

I knew diligence was virtuous, so I worked hard.  I had myself convinced that when I worked hard and still could not pay for my rent, this would be the sign I was seeking that it was time to go home.  I knew just how this was going to go.  So, I worked.  I took all the extra hours I could at this security job.  I worked weekends, the midnight shift, and a double shift on the fourth of July earning the extra hourly rate for taking these less than desirable shifts.  I increased my earnings a lot and didn't have any time to spend any of it.  I would sometimes get up before it was light and work through the day and return in the dark just before the train stopped running.

Somewhere toward the end of July it was time for me to pay my bill.  I wasn't going to have enough.  I had been putting money toward the housing bill all summer and I took my paycheck following the fourth of July holiday.  I had even called the office and asked them to extend the deadline until payday, which they did.  But even with the extra paycheck I was going to be short.  When I got my paycheck, I was discouraged to find it was less than I had thought it should be.  I had not received the extra holiday pay for the fourth of July because it was on a Saturday and the hospital observed the holiday on Friday--a day I had not worked.  I was devastated.  I mean, I KNEW it was going to go this way, but I was still disappointed.  In total, I was nearly $500 short.

My planning and diligence had failed.

However, when I went to my PO Box to pick up the mail, I had a surprise waiting for me.  I had a letter from an attorney in my hometown.  He was the trustee of a scholarship I had received the year before.  He told me no one had applied for the scholarship that year.  The scholarship was supposed to be for first-year students, but he hated to think no one would use it.  He sent it to me.  The check was $500.

When I went to the housing office to pay my bill, I had enough to cover my bill with $9.27 left over.  With my school meal plan and my rent being paid, I didn't have much extra but, I had everything I needed.  This was the first time I began to separate my faith from my religion.  It was the first time I dared to believe

God had a plan, and it was a good one.

Going with the Flow

Rolling with the punches has never come easily for me.  I'm more naturally a planner.  An analyzer.  I like spreadsheets.  I like data.  I don't like to rely on feeling, and I don't like to change the plan.

I remember the first time I realized how lucky I am to have Kelly on my team.  We were just a family of three at that time.  We were flying somewhere and little E was very small.  One of our flights was cancelled by the time we go to our connecting airport and we were stuck.  We had a good plan.  We had chosen our flights around nap time and lunch time and all the other times that are of critical importance in the life of a toddler.  I was devastated to see my good plan swirling around the drain.

I told Kelly the news and I braced for her face to fall.  Except it didn't.  Her face lit up and she said, 

"Oh good!  Now we have time for frozen yogurt!"

There are so many things about life that look like unnecessary and inconvenient diversions to me at first glance.  This was perhaps the first time I realized planning was not the only thing that mattered.  I realized God was trying to teach me how to put my plan aside and go with the flow.  I began to see that in unexpected twists and turns you can find opportunities if you know where and how to look.  More and more, I find life is made of twists and turns and sometimes "diversions" are more necessary than they first appear.

This past summer, I found myself working at an office about 70 miles from my home.  With no interstates close by it took me about an hour and a half to wind along the hilly country road to work.  I made the trip twice a week most weeks, I did as much work from home as I could, and the rest of my week was occupied by work closer to home.

One afternoon I found my work delayed waiting on others to complete their portions before I could continue.  With a 90-minute drive ahead of me I didn't love the idea of sitting around for a few more hours with nothing to do before completing my work and driving home.  My colleagues and manager were very accommodating and I easily got permission to head home early and work remotely in the evening when the work was ready for me.  I headed home before 3 pm.

Part of the way home, I wondered if I had made a poor choice in leaving so early.  Was I being irresponsible?  I had made a habit of calling my grandmother on the ride home, but this was an unusual time for the trip and I didn't get her.  I filled the time praying about my day and whether I had fouled everything up.

Most of the way home, I came to the spot where I could see the beltway around the city up ahead, and I saw a fire engine crossing on the overpass above just as I approached the ramp.  Selfishly, I hoped the engine was not an indication of trouble on my route.  The fire truck came down the exit just as I slowed to the ramp and in the nick of time I turned up the ramp as it pulled up just behind me.  On the ramp I passed several motorcycles, one turned on its side, rider laying flat on the ground.  It appeared the bike had come off the beltway through a guardrail, passed through the grassy area, crossed the ramp and crashed.

It occurred to me that if I had come through only moments later I would be stuck in the traffic I could now see off to my left as I entered the beltway and continued home without delay.  I had one of those moments when it seems God downloads something to my understanding just as though he were sitting next to me.  I don't hear any voice or words or anything like that.  It's more of a gut feeling, but if I put words to the gut feeling, it would go something like this, "I'm coordinating things around you, not only for your safety, but also for your convenience."

In the months since that time I have changed jobs, we have been in the middle of a significant transition at church, and we have watched a virus envelope the earth.  In all of it, there have been so many experiences that baffle the mind with their synchrony.  I am convinced, more than ever, that God is always working to bring good from the chaos.  

Until next time . . .

An Oreo Slave

I love Oreos.

The Double Stuf Oreos.

I love the original ones, but I also love the mint-filled ones.  This summer I found some with berry flavored filling which was also good. . . I mean, you can't go wrong.

Every time I buy Oreos, they own me.

I bring them home.  I open the package. . . they've made it even easier to open.  I have one or two. . . hands full.  I feel slightly satisfied, and I proceed to put them away and think about the next time I'll be able to have another one . . . or two!

I know they will own me when I buy them.  There's a little thing in the back of my brain running the whole time I own a package of Oreos.  That little thing has one function: to focus all it's energy on Oreos.  The net result is that I eat the entire package in a very short time.

Since I know this about myself, and I tend to be somewhat systematic, I have devised a rule to protect me from my Oreo slavery.  I buy Double Stuf Oreos in little sleeves.  They come in sleeves of about a half dozen Oreos.  Maybe more like eight to a package.  This way, I can eat all of the Oreos in the sleeve in one sitting without hurting myself!  This is better than having to eat a whole family pack of Oreos, eight at a time, over the course of one day!

Mrs O and I were talking the other day about church and Oreos.  Churches are full of little rules like my rule about buying Oreos in sleeves instead of family packs.  The trouble is, these rules are only methods of keeping on track with bigger purposes.  I mean, my bigger purpose is avoiding a stomach ache, an extra five pounds. . . nothing wrong with eating Oreos.  Nothing Holy about eight Oreos to a sitting as opposed to twelve. . . or six.

If I see someone in the grocery store buying a family pack of Oreos, I cannot assume they will have the same struggle I do.  It is not necessarily the same for them.  The other person may have no trouble rationing his Oreos.  Perhaps, he has avoided buying bacon, or cheese for similar reasons.  Perhaps food is not a problem at all.

I have to remember the main goal.  Avoiding stomach aches and an extra five pounds. . . there is more than one method to achieve this goal.  Even more important than five pounds would be a generally healthy lifestyle.  If I put my Oreo sleeve rule ahead of the greater goal of a healthy lifestyle, the unfortunate possibility is an unhealthy lifestyle due to some other vice, and a lack of enjoyment of life for the lack of Oreos!

Hijacking The Good News

Mrs O and I were talking about the church the other day.  I mean, The Church as a whole, not any particular congregation.  We were talking about how we really have a bad PR problem.  People don't think of christians as rescuers, they think of us as oppressors.  They don't see our love for each other, they see our rules for each other.

What happened?

Are we the victims of the rumor mill?

Have lots of people been badly misinformed?

Well, I don't think so.  I think, in a lot of cases, our reputation is well deserved.  I think history is repeating itself.

Galations 4:29 begins: "But you are now being persecuted by those who want you to keep the law. . ."

You know, when I read a story from the Bible, I always put myself in the position of one of the characters in the story.  I assume to be one of those personalities and to have the task of acting like they did, or perhaps, as they should have acted.

Funny thing: I never put myself in the position of the Pharisees.  I never assume I am acting like one of them.  When I look at myself honestly, though, sometimes I do act like one of them.  Sometimes, I look at today's church and wonder if we are really growing christians, or if we are actually growing Pharisees.

My analysis of the Pharisees concludes they were well-meaning, diligent, self-disciplined folk.  Trouble is, they forgot who gave them their laws.  God is the one who provided the law, but God came before the law.  God had a plan and purposes before the law ever came to be.

God's purposes are higher than the law.

What are God's purposes?  Well, the Bible says his purpose is to love.  Feed the hungry.  Clothe the naked.  Defend the orphan and widow.  The list goes on.

The law just gives me a picture of what holiness would look like, if holiness were humanly possible.  But, strict adherence to the law without consideration of God's higher purposes, however, will result in failure.  Every.  Time.

Worse yet, is strict adherence to what I call guardrails.  These are rules contrived by me or others in my family or church culture.  Rules designed to keep me from violating the law.  Going to church every Sunday, for example, is one of these guardrails.  It's a good policy.  It is supposed to encourage me to stay on the right road--toward God's purpose.

Sometimes, church feels like it gets in the way, though.  It feels like I become beholden to the good rule of going to church more so than simply following God's law of keeping one day per week set apart for Him.  Going to church starts to feel like the law, and I forget all about the direction church is supposed to be taking me.  I feel as though I need to be in church every time the doors open.  Sunday morning, Sunday night, Tuesday night, Wednesday night. . . no time left over for serving.

"Can't love you today, got to get to church and learn about how I am supposed to love you."

Hijacked.

The Good News is better than that.  Now, if I took Sunday and spent all day serving the poor. . . would this be a fine way to keep one day per week set apart for God?  Would this not be the most perfect form of a worship service?

The punch line is simply this: the church is failing if it is not encouraging people to find Jesus and serve Him by loving people in practical ways.  If church gets to the point of preempting, precluding or preventing people from fulfilling God's purposes and demonstrating love, it has become worse than ineffective.  It has become evil.

Isaiah 1:10-15

Bible Doing: Take Two

Well, we've learned a couple of things over the past few months.  We got a group together--six to ten people usually, including our family.  We visited a nursing home and handed out some treats, we got to know each other, and talked quite a bit about great ideas for potential service opportunities.

We didn't get our hands very dirty, though.  Organizing events is harder than it sounds.  We are still going on Sundays to visit our friend at the nursing home, and our family loves it more and more each week.

Last Sunday, I and my boys filled Mrs. K's bird feeder.  I love birds, so I figured I'd use this interest of mine to serve her.  I really enjoy it, as silly as it may sound!  On the way back around the building, Little S noticed another feeder was empty.  We filled that one, too.  Then two windows down, another empty feeder.  We filled that one, too.  Then, i heard a tap, tap, tapping.  Through the glare on the window, I could just barely see a lady watching us.  She pointed to her bird feeder.  It looked full, so I was puzzled.  I took it down from the tall iron hook and found the birdseed inside was moldy and all stuck together in an octagonal brick.  As I pulled out the birdseed brick and broke it up, the lady inside clasped her hands with delight and smiled!  We filled that one, too.

As we walked away, I heard another tapping.  It was the same lady.  She beckoned us back to her window so she could holler a thank you through the glass.

Total cost to us: $10 and 30 minutes

Total payoff: many smiles

This is addicting.  On the way home, we discussed a membership we could cancel to free up a few dollars so we could buy more birdseed and fill ALL the feeders.  If there is enough money left over, we might buy some plants to put in the empty planters on the patio. . . I love flowers, too.

It's not as hard as it originally seemed.

It's nothing really. . . Well, no.  It's not nothing.  It's a pleasure!

Bible Doing

Mrs O and I are excited about February 3.  What a kickoff this is going to be. . . and I'm not talking about professional sports!  On Super Bowl Sunday we're kicking off a new community group for our church, and it's going to have a bit of a different focus.

Well, it's not so much the focus that will be different, but the format.  Every group we've ever attended, including one that we hosted for three years in Maine, was focused on group discussion.  We would meet and study. . . some would call it a Bible Study.  We also had a focus on building community between members, so it had a major social component as well.

Some time ago, I began to think a little bit differently about church.  You can read some background here in a post called "Getting out of church!"  Basically, I began to feel like I was just talking and not doing anything about all the stuff I was talking about.  I was feeling like my week was so full of church events that I didn't have time for anyone outside of my church.  I didn't know how to justify or reconcile my schedule with what I was reading in the Bible.

Then I read some stuff: Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller, Crazy Love by Francis Chan, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller, Soul Cravings by Erwin McManus, and Love Does by Bob Goff.  All of these books increased my sense that something about my priorities had gone awry.

So, as suggested by Bob Goff in Love Does, we're starting a Bible Doing.  We're getting folk together with the intention of serving our community on a regular basis.  These opportunities to serve will take the place of some of our discussions.  Our discussions will then be focused on new opportunities and the experiences we have serving.

We're going to start by looking for some 'plug and play' service opportunities where we don't have to re-invent the wheel, but rather plug into organizations that are already going.  We're going to focus on the passions and talents of the group members.  We're going to turn everyday life into a mission trip!

We're not pros yet, but practice makes perfect!

"'He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well.  Is that not what it means to know me?' declares the Lord."  Jeremiah 22:10 NIV