Yesterday we attended a brick and mortar church. A few weeks ago I hinted this was coming. We chose a church where we already knew some people. We have also heard good things about this church. Of course, every coin has two sides, so we've heard some other things about it as well. Not bad things per se, just some things that others were dissatisfied with. Having been a pastor, I don't let those things bother me. Besides, we have to experience it for ourselves. We even previewed a couple of the pastor's sermons online.
It was a great Sunday. First, the boys didn't give us any fuss. They don't like to have their routines messed with and moving church back outside the house and inside the traditional church model falls into that category. But, they had plenty of warning, plus they knew some kids there already AND I believe that deep down in their hearts they feel it is the best thing also.
Second, it was wonderful to be part of corporate worship again. There is nothing like singing songs of praises with other Christians. This part is especially important for my wife. The toughest part as a former pastor came during the sermon. Of all the duties I performed as a pastor, delivering the sermon was my favorite. It is a special privilege to bring forth and break the Word for God's people. Despite those initial pangs of bygone experiences, the pastor did an excellent job of guiding us through the Word so that we might receive the message God had for us.
We've not decided on this as our new church home - it was only our first Sunday. We'll check it out several more times and get involved with other aspects of community life there. In the meantime, we'll praying and following wherever God leads.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
The Closing of a Door?
After finishing the below post I went back to update this page some. I changed a couple of lines in the "Why do this?" paragraph to your left. I reviewed my early posting during that first month back in May. I reread the only post in November. A significant shift has taken place in the time between those two sets. My early posts all came from the perspective of someone who was a pastor not serving in a church, but would probably return to such a role. Over time, the perspective slowly shifted to someone who might continue to be called "pastor" but not going back to the pulpit anytime soon. The shift has reached its final stage with the removal of the title "pastor" for good.
I truly believe that I will never serve a church as a pastor again. Coming to that realization and accepting it has been a liberating experience in my quest to live faithfully to him. The interesting thing is what remains. I have lost the desire to be pastor/leader of a local church. I have lost the sense of the call to be a pastor of a local church. What I have NOT lost is the heart of a pastor that cares about people, their lives, their joys, and their troubles. I think that's because it's really the heart of a Christian, the heart of Christ himself.
This week I closed the door on those possibilities and even removed the word "pastor" from title. I formally turned in my credentials as an ordained minister in The Wesleyan Church. I am no longer "Reverend" or "Pastor" Matt Guthrie. I'm just Matt Guthrie, follower of Christ. Even though I have spent two years praying and contemplating this move, even though I made this decision two months ago, it felt very strange to finally write the letter, seal the envelope, and put it in the mail on Monday morning.
I think I also opened a door this week. One that leads to even more dependence on Him and his leading. One that leads to an even greater searching of what it means to live faithfully. At least I hope so.
I truly believe that I will never serve a church as a pastor again. Coming to that realization and accepting it has been a liberating experience in my quest to live faithfully to him. The interesting thing is what remains. I have lost the desire to be pastor/leader of a local church. I have lost the sense of the call to be a pastor of a local church. What I have NOT lost is the heart of a pastor that cares about people, their lives, their joys, and their troubles. I think that's because it's really the heart of a Christian, the heart of Christ himself.
This week I closed the door on those possibilities and even removed the word "pastor" from title. I formally turned in my credentials as an ordained minister in The Wesleyan Church. I am no longer "Reverend" or "Pastor" Matt Guthrie. I'm just Matt Guthrie, follower of Christ. Even though I have spent two years praying and contemplating this move, even though I made this decision two months ago, it felt very strange to finally write the letter, seal the envelope, and put it in the mail on Monday morning.
I think I also opened a door this week. One that leads to even more dependence on Him and his leading. One that leads to an even greater searching of what it means to live faithfully. At least I hope so.
The Nature of (a faith) Community
On my other blog, I've posted some thoughts on what it takes to make a community. As of late that has been a very serious question for me in the context of this time being spent outside the brick and mortar church. During our family worship time this morning, I was very honest with my family about my struggle. I'm fairly confident we are not doing what we are supposed to be doing. That could be attributed to at least two possibilities. One, God may desire, command even, that we be part of a local church, i.e. the brick and mortar manifestation of the body of Christ. Two, our "failure" may be due to the fact that our fellowship consists only of our four immediate family members. My only desire is to do what is best for my family. At this point, I'm believing that rejoining a local body of believers in the traditional church is the correct course.
Two weeks ago I was very excited about the possibility of staying our current course. I was pumped up by the promise of other families joining us for the study of God's word and real life application of it as we lived that which we learned, as we became incarnational entities of God's love, resembling and having the effects of the early body of believers in the book of Acts. Two weeks later, it's still just us four. If I'm not going to do any better at inviting others in, I need to go somewhere that is.
Everyone likes to look back at the "good ol' days" of the Church when this kind of thing happened. People who are strongly opposed to the idea of the brick and mortar church use various passages from Acts and partial understandings of early Church history to justify their viewpoint. However, when you look at the passage hyperlinked above, it is hard to ignore this key phrase -"Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts."
Two weeks ago I was encouraged by what I perceived to be a revelation of the Holy Spirit. On Sunday mornings, our family is doing a very indepth study of the Gospel of John. I'm doing my best to keep it at level my sons can understand but then challenging enough for my wife and I. One of the themes that keeps coming up in this study is the removal of barriers between us and God - physical, spiritual, religious, social, economic, etc. Now, I could have been reading my own ideas into these, but I don't think that's the case. As these ideas kept popping up in our study, I said to myself, "God wants me to stay this course for the people for whom the brick and mortar church is a barrier." But I am missing the fellowship and the community of that type of church.
Tonight I came across a quote on another blog about the nature of reading the Bible (see point #2 there). I agree with that statement. I think it is dangerous to read the Word alone and draw your own conclusions without any outside conversation. I have said before that a committee of one is easy to convince.
So why am I arguing both sides of this issue, and more from the side that is completely opposite from what I'm currently doing? Because I am being bluntly honest. Because I want to be truly faithful. Where will I end up? I don't know for sure, but if I were a betting man, I'd say my family will begin church shopping real soon.
What's this got to do with the nature of community? Everything. We've got to find some people with a shared world view and a shared faith in Jesus Christ as our Savior to do life with. That's what community is all about.
Two weeks ago I was very excited about the possibility of staying our current course. I was pumped up by the promise of other families joining us for the study of God's word and real life application of it as we lived that which we learned, as we became incarnational entities of God's love, resembling and having the effects of the early body of believers in the book of Acts. Two weeks later, it's still just us four. If I'm not going to do any better at inviting others in, I need to go somewhere that is.
Everyone likes to look back at the "good ol' days" of the Church when this kind of thing happened. People who are strongly opposed to the idea of the brick and mortar church use various passages from Acts and partial understandings of early Church history to justify their viewpoint. However, when you look at the passage hyperlinked above, it is hard to ignore this key phrase -"Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts."
Two weeks ago I was encouraged by what I perceived to be a revelation of the Holy Spirit. On Sunday mornings, our family is doing a very indepth study of the Gospel of John. I'm doing my best to keep it at level my sons can understand but then challenging enough for my wife and I. One of the themes that keeps coming up in this study is the removal of barriers between us and God - physical, spiritual, religious, social, economic, etc. Now, I could have been reading my own ideas into these, but I don't think that's the case. As these ideas kept popping up in our study, I said to myself, "God wants me to stay this course for the people for whom the brick and mortar church is a barrier." But I am missing the fellowship and the community of that type of church.
Tonight I came across a quote on another blog about the nature of reading the Bible (see point #2 there). I agree with that statement. I think it is dangerous to read the Word alone and draw your own conclusions without any outside conversation. I have said before that a committee of one is easy to convince.
So why am I arguing both sides of this issue, and more from the side that is completely opposite from what I'm currently doing? Because I am being bluntly honest. Because I want to be truly faithful. Where will I end up? I don't know for sure, but if I were a betting man, I'd say my family will begin church shopping real soon.
What's this got to do with the nature of community? Everything. We've got to find some people with a shared world view and a shared faith in Jesus Christ as our Savior to do life with. That's what community is all about.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Greatest People in the World
I'd like to reaffirm something I have believed for a really long time. Pastors are the greatest people in the world. The men and women (and their spouses) who serve their Savior by serving people in the local church are the most giving, loving, self-sacrificing people I know. I'm not saying this because I am a pastor. I'm saying this because I'm no longer a pastor and I am not returning to that vocation.
Long before I began this new journey of living faithfully outside the brick and mortar church, I began to question my ability to serve as a pastor. I questioned my desire to serve as a pastor. I questioned God's call on my life. Some of what I'm about to say will serve as vindication to some of the strongest critics from my past. That's okay because they are still wrong in many of the things they said and did. I must also post the disclaimer that these thoughts have very little to do with the events that resulted in my decision to resign from our last church. These thoughts are the result are the honest outcome of almost two years of seeking God's guidance and direction on my life. If I am to live faithfully this year, or any other year, I must take these steps.
To those people who say "Yes" to a call of pastoral ministry, they take on the greatest challenges, the greatest sacrifices, the greatest struggles, and reap the greatest rewards because of it. They experience grace in ways that no one can understand unless they have said yes to the same call. I can boldly make such a statement because I have been there. God graciously enables pastors to take all kinds of hits from forces in the material and spiritual world and still come out as loving people in the end. October was "Pastor Appreciation Month." I hope your pastor felt appreciated.
To the guys who are my best friends in the world, thank you for all you do. Thank you for saying yes everyday to whatever and wherever God leads you. Thank you for understanding and believing me when I say that I too am saying yes to God by stepping out of this select group of wonderful people.
My ten years of pastoral ministry were wonderful. I saw and experienced many great things. I was able to grow closer to God in a way that I personally would not have been able to if I had been a lay person in the church. Those ten years were not mistakes nor do I believe this year and those to come will be. They are all part of the journey.
Despite the amount of space devoted to my own feelings and experience, this post really isn't about me It's about you. When things get discouraging, don't let it get to you. You are doing God's work. Remember that faithfulness matters, nothing else. It was Abraham's faith that caused him to be considered righteous. Pastors, you really are the greatest people in the world.
Long before I began this new journey of living faithfully outside the brick and mortar church, I began to question my ability to serve as a pastor. I questioned my desire to serve as a pastor. I questioned God's call on my life. Some of what I'm about to say will serve as vindication to some of the strongest critics from my past. That's okay because they are still wrong in many of the things they said and did. I must also post the disclaimer that these thoughts have very little to do with the events that resulted in my decision to resign from our last church. These thoughts are the result are the honest outcome of almost two years of seeking God's guidance and direction on my life. If I am to live faithfully this year, or any other year, I must take these steps.
To those people who say "Yes" to a call of pastoral ministry, they take on the greatest challenges, the greatest sacrifices, the greatest struggles, and reap the greatest rewards because of it. They experience grace in ways that no one can understand unless they have said yes to the same call. I can boldly make such a statement because I have been there. God graciously enables pastors to take all kinds of hits from forces in the material and spiritual world and still come out as loving people in the end. October was "Pastor Appreciation Month." I hope your pastor felt appreciated.
To the guys who are my best friends in the world, thank you for all you do. Thank you for saying yes everyday to whatever and wherever God leads you. Thank you for understanding and believing me when I say that I too am saying yes to God by stepping out of this select group of wonderful people.
My ten years of pastoral ministry were wonderful. I saw and experienced many great things. I was able to grow closer to God in a way that I personally would not have been able to if I had been a lay person in the church. Those ten years were not mistakes nor do I believe this year and those to come will be. They are all part of the journey.
Despite the amount of space devoted to my own feelings and experience, this post really isn't about me It's about you. When things get discouraging, don't let it get to you. You are doing God's work. Remember that faithfulness matters, nothing else. It was Abraham's faith that caused him to be considered righteous. Pastors, you really are the greatest people in the world.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Virtual Faith?
On my other blog I've posted some thoughts about virtual faith but I won't repeat those here. In this year of living faithfully, I cannot help but wonder at times how real my own faith is. There are times when I feel like a "virtual Christian"; times like last Sunday morning where I wonder if I'm really doing the right thing. Especially when I think about my family. What views on Christian faith are my boys developing? How about my wife? She's "stuck" at home all week homeschooling our children. When we were part of a brick and mortar church she had some social outlets. For a while we met with another family but that arrangement did not work out. Perhaps we gave up on it too easily, but our visions and doctrinal views were too divergent. Maybe being part of the Body of Christ and living authentic faith means making those differences work, even in the most impossible seeming circumstances. (NOTE: I am not saying that there was a huge schism in our brief fellowship, just that we felt led to go in separate and different directions.)
On that same Sunday, I found myself in conversations with several other parents and their children discussing the matter of faith. I encountered people from all across the spectrum. Strong, secure Christians who were faithful church members. People who occassionally attend church. And people who have no part of church for a variety of reasons, usually relating to a lack of belief. When conversations would turn to my current situation (they all know that I used to pastor a church), I felt awkward, ineffective, and doubtful in what I had to say. Did I have a real faith?
This past week that view began to turn around. Initially the week reinforced my doubts. I know that some of my colleagues look at me dubiously because their perspective on ministry and a life of faith is relegated soley to the brick and mortar church. As opportunities to live and act faithfully presented itself (as it does every week), my doubts faded. The real need for a real faith demonstrated to real people with real problems is ever present.
As I was catching up on my blogreading, I came across the following quote on Brian Russell's blog. It is by Leslie Newbigin, a missionary from the UK to Asia. He has written some very challenging pieces on how we do church in the western world. He said,
Newbigin refers to a congregation as the intended believing community. I believe he meant a congregation that was the flesh and bones of a brick and mortar church, although he speaks against the program driven nature of most churches. I think the believing community might exist more effectively outside of those boundaries. That's why I'm on this particular journey. However, as long as my journey only includes my family, it will remain a virtual faith journey.
On that same Sunday, I found myself in conversations with several other parents and their children discussing the matter of faith. I encountered people from all across the spectrum. Strong, secure Christians who were faithful church members. People who occassionally attend church. And people who have no part of church for a variety of reasons, usually relating to a lack of belief. When conversations would turn to my current situation (they all know that I used to pastor a church), I felt awkward, ineffective, and doubtful in what I had to say. Did I have a real faith?
This past week that view began to turn around. Initially the week reinforced my doubts. I know that some of my colleagues look at me dubiously because their perspective on ministry and a life of faith is relegated soley to the brick and mortar church. As opportunities to live and act faithfully presented itself (as it does every week), my doubts faded. The real need for a real faith demonstrated to real people with real problems is ever present.
As I was catching up on my blogreading, I came across the following quote on Brian Russell's blog. It is by Leslie Newbigin, a missionary from the UK to Asia. He has written some very challenging pieces on how we do church in the western world. He said,
"How is it possible that the gospel should be credible, that people should come
to believe that the power, which has the last word in human affairs is
represented by a man hanging on a cross? I am suggesting that the only answer,
the only hermeneutic of the gospel, is a congregation of men and women who
believe it and live by it. I am, of course, not denying the importance of many
activities by which we seek to challenge public life with the gospel's
evangelistic campaigns, distribution of Bibles and Christian literature,
conferences, and even books such as this one. But I am saying that these are all
secondary, and that they have power to accomplish their purposes only as they
are rooted in and lead back to a believing community"
Newbigin refers to a congregation as the intended believing community. I believe he meant a congregation that was the flesh and bones of a brick and mortar church, although he speaks against the program driven nature of most churches. I think the believing community might exist more effectively outside of those boundaries. That's why I'm on this particular journey. However, as long as my journey only includes my family, it will remain a virtual faith journey.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The "new self" (part 3)
In this journey of trying to live faithfully to God, His will, Word, and everything else, it has also become a journey of self discovery. For many reasons I have been forced to examine what I believe and why to levels heretofore unvisited. I have been searching for the Core of what it means to be a Christan, a subject I will hopefully revisit here again soon. During this time of discovery, I have reaffirmed much of what I already knew about myself. And I have acknowledged some additional truths as well.
One of those truths is I am selfish. All of us are to an extent. I don't think I am any more selfish than the next guy. Sounds like a good cop out or defensive rebuttal doesn't it? Yet I'm serious. I'm selfish, pretty selfish. I like doing things for me. I like being in control of my life. I like to do things in a way that they are most convenient for me.
That's a problem. When I read the Bible, I'm told that I'm supposed to put myself last. We are supposed to look to the needs of others before ourselves, counting our selves nothing (Philippians 2). Jesus said whoever saves his life will lose it. He also said we are to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him (Luke 9) What do you do when you are a selfish person who is trying to live faithfully? Aren't those polar opposites?
Honestly,I think I'm ok. And not just because I'm selfish. I think I'm okay because I feel like I meet those above requirements to deny self. Part 4 will address this more. Come back and see what some of the other implications are.
One of those truths is I am selfish. All of us are to an extent. I don't think I am any more selfish than the next guy. Sounds like a good cop out or defensive rebuttal doesn't it? Yet I'm serious. I'm selfish, pretty selfish. I like doing things for me. I like being in control of my life. I like to do things in a way that they are most convenient for me.
That's a problem. When I read the Bible, I'm told that I'm supposed to put myself last. We are supposed to look to the needs of others before ourselves, counting our selves nothing (Philippians 2). Jesus said whoever saves his life will lose it. He also said we are to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him (Luke 9) What do you do when you are a selfish person who is trying to live faithfully? Aren't those polar opposites?
Honestly,I think I'm ok. And not just because I'm selfish. I think I'm okay because I feel like I meet those above requirements to deny self. Part 4 will address this more. Come back and see what some of the other implications are.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
The "new self" (con't)
As I said in my previous post, I'm having the time of my life as a middle school teacher right now. A friend emailed me the other day to see if I had been eaten alive yet. I replied with a much shorter version of that post.
This process of discovering my new self has provided all sorts of interesting questions from others. I have a ton of t-shirts that I got from church camps for kids. I have an equal number of shirts from an annual pastors retreat I used to attend every fall, which by the way, is meeting right now without me. Since I coach the school's volleyball team, I always change for practice and usually wear a shirt from one of these two collections.
Today, I was wearing one of my "Carolina Pastor's Gathering" shirts. One of the girls on the team noticed and asked, "Are you a pastor?" I honestly did not know how to answer. I was chided a few weeks ago by a co-worker whose husband was in youth ministry for 20 years when I said, "I used to be." She said, "You'll always be a pastor." My wife was gently reminded by another pastor's wife that even though I am not pastoring a church right now, she is still a pastor's wife.
So . . . how did I answer that question? I certainly don't feel like a pastor, at least not in the traditional understanding of the word. I definitely feel like my job as a teacher is a ministry to the kids and fellow staff. I have countless ministry opportunities available to me everyday. I take advantage of each one as they come my way. I can't remember if I've said it here before, but one of my fellow teachers calls me Pastor Matt. A mock up of my seminary degree is even posted outside my classroom door
My reply to the student was, "I used to be." That may have been the wrong answer. One of the things I will be very honest about in this journey of self re-discovery is that very issue. What am I? I do not see a return to the brick and mortar church in my future any time soon. But might I become the "chaplain" of Clayton Middle School?
That's my story for today about trying to live faithfully. My new self is having a great time, but still questioning how others might view me, the least of which is not God himself. Soon I'll come back and share some of the other things I've learned at middle school, about myself and others.
This process of discovering my new self has provided all sorts of interesting questions from others. I have a ton of t-shirts that I got from church camps for kids. I have an equal number of shirts from an annual pastors retreat I used to attend every fall, which by the way, is meeting right now without me. Since I coach the school's volleyball team, I always change for practice and usually wear a shirt from one of these two collections.
Today, I was wearing one of my "Carolina Pastor's Gathering" shirts. One of the girls on the team noticed and asked, "Are you a pastor?" I honestly did not know how to answer. I was chided a few weeks ago by a co-worker whose husband was in youth ministry for 20 years when I said, "I used to be." She said, "You'll always be a pastor." My wife was gently reminded by another pastor's wife that even though I am not pastoring a church right now, she is still a pastor's wife.
So . . . how did I answer that question? I certainly don't feel like a pastor, at least not in the traditional understanding of the word. I definitely feel like my job as a teacher is a ministry to the kids and fellow staff. I have countless ministry opportunities available to me everyday. I take advantage of each one as they come my way. I can't remember if I've said it here before, but one of my fellow teachers calls me Pastor Matt. A mock up of my seminary degree is even posted outside my classroom door
My reply to the student was, "I used to be." That may have been the wrong answer. One of the things I will be very honest about in this journey of self re-discovery is that very issue. What am I? I do not see a return to the brick and mortar church in my future any time soon. But might I become the "chaplain" of Clayton Middle School?
That's my story for today about trying to live faithfully. My new self is having a great time, but still questioning how others might view me, the least of which is not God himself. Soon I'll come back and share some of the other things I've learned at middle school, about myself and others.
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