Dear
Friends,
I once owned a 1964 VW bus, and
there were two things about this bus that stood out.
The exhaust system was fancy –
and extremely loud. That’s one.
The front bumper sported a bumper
sticker that read: Bald
is Beautiful. That’s two.
I’ve been going bald since
high school, so I’ve had a long, long time to get
used to the idea that I wouldn’t be mistaken for
anyone with a full head of hair.
The Bald
is Beautiful sticker, replete with drawing
of a bald baby eagle, was good for an occasional comment
or chuckle from others. I didn’t have to plaster
that sticker on my bumper; I chose to. I could as easily
have stayed silent, worked on new comb-over strategies,
and joined the Hair Club.
In seminary, I heard a memorable
phrase to describe the Empty Tomb that could not hold
Jesus. One modern theologian described the Empty Tomb
as the
presence of an absence. I would love
to have crafted that term myself. You know exactly what
is being said when you see the
presence of an absence.
So, too, with the hair that isn’t
on my head ... the hair that doesn’t blow in the
wind or get in my eyes. I remember hair, and I remember
how it felt when the wind on the open road through my
car window would blow the stuff about and make me wish
I had a hat or bandana within reach.
I didn’t choose baldness,
but I have made a lot of people chuckle with the jokes
that I tell on myself, to say nothing of the mileage my
wife gets from the presence of the absence of my hair.
I didn’t choose baldness,
but I have embraced what I could not avoid.
***
In
more than 10 years of ministry, I have served six churches
(the first five were interim ministry calls). No one of
these churches has had more than an average of 100 in
worship, and most of them hovered in the 60s or 70s. Pierce
Avenue Presbyterian Church has an average of 39 in worship
on Sundays.
Maybe it takes a bald guy to appreciate
small churches.
Call me crazy, but I believe all
churches with the guts to open the doors on a Sunday deserve
a gifted, passionate, real, live minister to join them
in praising God. God has called me to this small ministry,
and I am grateful. My ministry is just the right size.
I do not wish for another.
Whatever the reason, I certainly
do appreciate small churches. In fact, I love the small
church, and I prefer the small church, and I don’t
have any need for more than I have.
Only a guy who can see his hair
fall out, and laugh, could say that, perhaps.
Most of you who will be reading
this will be persons who grew up in a church that had
almost as many Sunday School teachers as we now have in
worship on Sunday, with hundreds of children in Sunday
School.
I hear these stories, and I think
of the noise and confusion.
***
You
didn’t ask for a small church any more than I asked
for baldness. However, the comparison stops there. No
one is joking about the size of our church, and no one
is saying that our church is the right size.
But you could.
You could tell the one about the
priest, the rabbi, and the minister who got together one
day to compare notes on their congregations.
“My church has five classes
in Sunday School, and we’re planning to build to
accommodate the numbers,” said the priest.
“We’re spilling out
the doors,” said the rabbi.
“My folks are mourning the
past and unable to see the future,” said the minister.
“Well,” said the priest,
“at least you don’t have any trouble coming
up with a text for Easter Sunday.”
“What do you mean?”
asked the minister.
“Oh, you know,” said
the priest, “the presence of an absence.”
***
OK,
so it wasn’t that funny. I haven’t had many
calls for jokes about the size of our church. That doesn’t
mean that we can’t look for the moments of blessing
in our situation. Who says we have to put on long faces
and worry all the time about what we can’t fix overnight?
If I can get over being bald,
you can get over longing for a past that is just that
– past.
You need to begin where you are with the feelings that
you have, and then you need to embrace the situation that
you find yourself in. Good changes can happens when we
find a way to accept, and even celebrate, where we are,
even if it’s not where we want to be or think that
we should be.
Another reason why I am willing
to see the humor in our situation is that I have hope
for the future, and I can see a future of abundance for
you and for me, right where we are. And I have a strategy
for the future that I have been unfolding with you in
the years that I’ve been your pastor. And I can
laugh because God is in charge of our lives, and Jesus
Christ builds the Church. It helps to know where the hammers
and saws are, of course, but the future is certain. There
will be Pierce Avenue Presbyterian Church for as long
as you want there to be.
***
In
our years together, we have moved far beyond a mere Survival
State, though we cling to a Survival
Mentality, still. And what is it that
will take us to the next level?
A focus in ministry beyond ourselves.
Ask any widow or widower who has
gotten off his or her backside and volunteered to help
others, such as the many fine people who deliver Meals
on Wheels, and they will tell you what it’s like.
When you can find a way to stop worrying about yourself
and start caring for someone else, even people you don’t
know, you can say goodbye to long faces and smile at the
morning sun.
In the year to come, your Elders
will be providing leadership for you as we seek to find
the path to a future of joy and abundance.
Pray for them. Pray for me, too.
And pray for one another. That’s one.
Here’s two: Realize that
your strong and painful feelings about the glorious past
of this church are valid feelings that you have a right
to feel and express. No one has the right to take away
another person’s right to think and feel as one
sees fit or can’t yet alter.
Somewhere along the way you can
realize that though you didn’t ask for a small church,
God nonetheless has seen fit to bless you with one, and
to bless you with a pastor who loves your size just the
way it is and is willing to work with you on finding out
what God has in store for us in the future.
There are a few churches who choose
to be small. Very few. The rest have a load of anger and
sadness to deal with as they move forward. As you move
forward with me, I have a few questions for you to think
about:
* What size did the men and women
who built this church building, in its original size intend
Pierce Avenue to be?
* What size church do I really
want to see Pierce be in the future?
* Do I want to encounter a few
strangers, some strangers, or a lot of strangers in the
pews around me?
* How can my church get from here
to there?
Friends, I’m assuming that
you didn’t pray for a small church, that you didn’t
expect to encounter a small church, and that you don’t
enjoy my harping all the time on the size that we are.
But hey ... cheer up ... you could
be bald!
Blessings
and peace!
Pastor
Jon
