My name is Jeff and I'm a pastor of a small, local, Christian fellowship

It's a wonderful thing to love your work; to know that when you do it you are doing something that you were born to do. I am so fortunate to be both. I don't say I am the best at what I do. God knows that are so many others who do it better. But I do feel fairly lucky to be called by such a good God to do work I can only do with his help, to be loved by a beautiful woman, and to have a workshop where I can work my craft. These musings of mine are part of that work.
Powered By Blogger

Monday, November 19, 2018

Pastor, Mayor, Coach and some thoughts on unanswered prayer


Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, The Message

At this time of year it's appropriate to give thanks for God's goodness in our lives. I'll echo and 'amen' what the psalmist says repeatedly in Scripture:
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever” (Psalm 107:1)
Beyond the usual suspects of gratitude for my wife, my children, and the congregation I have served for over 27 years now, this year I'll add this one: gratitude for all my prayers that have not been answered over the decades of my service here.

We come from what would go as a “big” church around here – over a thousand people per Sunday. And while our pastor never taught this as a young man attending Bible college assumptions subtly grew within me; namely, that if you work hard and pray harder and remain faithful in time your church will be “big” too. When I landed here in 1991 fresh off the boat, as it were, assuming the leadership of a small congregation of approximately 60 people, I consciously set my sights on growing this church. I was eager to see my dreams realized. I prayed fervently that God would bless my every message and effort so that people would flock to this place and join what in time would certainly be a “great” church in the north woods of Wisconsin. I prayed that our worship would be “anointed” and the ministry “powerful and effective”. And of course, like every good evangelical pastor I prayed for people to be won for Christ and made disciples of Jesus.

This is what I thought I wanted

Twenty-seven years and a couple of months later, we're still about the same size as we have always been. In fact, because I have kept attendance since October 6, 1991 (my first official Sunday as pastor) I can say with great authority that over two and a half decades of ministry our average weekly attendance has ebbed and flowed between 40 and 60 with 75 folks on the rolls at any given time. Kids have grown up and left for school only to return for Christmas and Easter celebrations. Families have moved away or found another faith family to be a better fit for them. A few have graduated to the far better congregation of heaven. At the same time, babies have been born to those who were kids when we first arrived and others have been added to our ranks by transferring from another congregation or being born into the family of God. Over the years we have been fairly fortunate in the variety of worship leaders who have served here. And while they may not have what it takes to make the varsity squad of your run-of-the-mill mega church, they're pretty good for around here. But the truth is despite all our best efforts to grow the church, it has stubbornly remained the same numeric size through the past two and a half decades. In fact, whenever our average attendance begins to rise I emotionally prepare myself for an exit of a key individual or family because history has tended to repeat itself and they frequently do.

This is what it is

But here's the thing: where I may have once (okay, more than once) griped about God's seeming indifference to reward my best efforts and my most fervent prayers, at this time of year I find myself thankful. Why? Because one of the unforeseen benefits of serving a congregation the size it consistently remains is I've been able to outsource myself to a lot of other arenas and find great joy in doing so. Thirteen years ago, Chetek-Weyerhaeuser High School was in need of a Cross Country coach. Despite having no prior coaching experience, I applied. They passed on me but two years later when their new guy didn't pan out, they hired me. For the past 11 seasons I've been their Cross coach. Three of those seasons I had the blessing of coaching my son. Meanwhile, a lot of our athletes have become some of my kids whom I continue to connect with long after their high school running days have been in their rear view mirror.

I love these kids

MS-ers are a lot of fun
Two years later three of the four middle school track coaches decided to do something else with their spring. I ran into the head coach at a school assembly one day and she asked if I would like to become one of her assistants. I literally thought about it for about 30 seconds and then said, 'Sure' and just like that I have staffed the track program at the middle school for the past eight seasons (it also allows me to scout and recruit for our high school Cross program in the fall).


In 2013, a former YWAM-er who was a part of our fellowship encouraged me to get my sub license in order to substitute teach in our school system. To help grease the skids, as it were, he paid the $100 fee required for a three-year sub license. I never do it in the fall when Cross is going on but throughout the winter and spring I've been a regular sub at the elementary school ever since (I like working there because I can still do the math and I'm still taller than most of them). Of course since my kids were in kindergarten back in the '90s, I've done read-alouds at Roselawn Elementary, reading primarily to kindergarteners through second graders throughout the school year.



In 2016, though I had never held elective office before, I decided to run for mayor of our small town – and won. It's a part-time gig that doesn't require me to hold regular office hours. In fact, people can – and do – meet with the mayor at Refuge just as easily as they can at City Hall. I enjoyed my first two years so much I ran again and was re-elected in an uncontested election. I am fortunate to serve in such a way and connect with a whole different group of people than I normally would. And it's been fun, too.

The joke around here is “Just what do we call you? Pastor? Mayor? Coach?” To wit I simply reply, “Yes.” Perhaps if I served a larger congregation I would not be free to do this kind of stuff (as well as serve at our local county jail as a chaplain there) given the demands that a bigger fellowship would place on me. But in my case it feels that I'm right in my wheelhouse, as it were, wearing the multiple hats and filling the multiple roles that I am blessed to do.

Honestly, I don't remember what I thought ministry would look like back in 1991 other than I'm pretty sure it didn't look like how it's played out. No, a lot of things that I had hoped and prayed for have never come to pass yet and – who knows? - may never be answered. But as far as I can see it's worked out better.

Child dedication Sunday

My pastor once gave me some advice that he said his pastor shared with him on his ordination day: “Don't seek a big church. Seek a big ministry.” Of course, “big” is a relative term but I think its fair to say that over 25-plus years of ministry my footprint in this community, by God's grace, has been bigger than our facility. It reminds me of something Garrison Keillor once said, “Some luck lies in not getting what you thought you wanted but getting what you have, which once you have it you may be smart enough to see is what you would have wanted had you known.” It reminds me – again – how lucky and blessed I really am.



Thursday, November 8, 2018

Unscripted: A lesson in intercession


Remember to pray for me in this jail.” Paul in Colossians 4:18

This past Sunday was the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church (IDOPPC), an annual observance to remember those suffering for Christ around the world. It is an event our fellowship has participated in every year going back perhaps to the mid-90s when it began. Some years we have followed the curriculum that is provided by one of the several advocacy groups out there like Open Doors or Voice of the Martyrs. The first few times we observed it I remember creating massive prayer guides for people to take home with them. Now and again I have tried an additional follow-up prayer gathering involving Christians from other fellowships in town. But whatever the format we employed we spent time – sometimes longer than others – praying for those we probably will never meet this side of heaven who are experiencing hardship and trouble on account of their devotion to Christ.

Pastor Andrew and Norine Brunson
This year frankly I did not know what to do. I only had an idea that began to germinate when I caught a snippet of an interview American pastor Andrew Brunson, recently released from two years of captivity in Turkey a few weeks ago, gave on CBN. I found him very candid about how broken the first year of his captivity had left him and what came of it. Based on stories he had read of others who had been imprisoned for Christ he had expected to be buoyed by a grace that made him joyful despite the bars that separated him from his family, his church and the rest of the world. Instead he was desolate and alone and felt absolutely nothing leaving him struggling with disappointment in the very One to whom he professed his faith in.


So my plan became this: after some introductory comments, we would listen to the audio version of Colossians 4 from The Message (I prefer its real-world sound) and then watch a series of videos I found on YouTube including:

  • The FOX News interview that Pastor Andrew & Noreen Brunson gave after he was released from house arrest in Turkey ("I will preach Jesus until the day I die"). (I personally like the images and timeline that track his story from prison to kneeling before President Trump and praying for him 24 hours after his release).
  • A much more subdued and poignant interview that the Brunsons gave to CBN during which they each were candid about their experiences being incarcerated ("I was really broken"). (Noreen herself shared a cell with her husband for the first 13 days of his imprisonment).
  • Asia Bibi
    A CBN update and interview on the case of Asia [pronounced AH-ZIA] Bibi, a Christian mother of five recently acquitted of blasphemy in a Pakistani court but currently still incarcerated (Asia Bibi).
  • A call to prayer for Christians in Pakistan who suffer because of Christ created by another advocacy group for the IDOP observance (IDOP 2018).
All of them concluded in the same way: a request to pray for them and how the knowledge of people praying for them across the globe sustained them in their darkest time. So even though these people are a “zillion miles away” from here somehow, someway our prayers matter.





It was a small group Sunday at Refuge which simply means that corporate prayer is done by people taking their chairs and circling up to pray with one another (something that we practice at least twice a month). Just as people were about to break into small groups to pray for the persecuted, this happened: Duane – one of our elders and about as introverted as they come – popped to his feet and asked to share something. But he couldn't speak. All he could do is look at all of us and try and restrain himself from weeping and failing at it. While we waited for him to regain his composure, Larry popped up and stood with Duane in solidarity. Our congregation was temporarily at the mercy of the emotional display of two introverts, one weeping and one standing with his friend.

Eventually Duane was able to share briefly about some of the persecuted he knows personally. Having served with Youth With A Mission for over 27 years, he shared just how he was overcome with sadness for former students of his who are presently serving in Bangladesh and China and experiencing hardship because of their commitment to Christ. In our small groups then we went into a time of intercession. The only instructions I gave was that before they prayed for each other they were to pray the best way they knew how for the persecuted around the world. I can only speak for the small group that I was a part of but it seemed that our prayers were heart-felt and direct. As I looked around the room, everyone seemed to be on point praying the best way they knew how as well.



Following prayer we returned to the large group and I led the gathering in worship from songs I deliberately had chosen that would affirm that God is God, that He is Lord and that he sees and knows and is present with us in times of loss and hardship. When the service was over it just felt like we had experienced some kind of serendipitous moment of grace that had helped us pray that morning. It was a moment that carried on to our monthly prayer gathering for the handful of us who gathered to wait upon the Lord that evening.

That afternoon as I reflected upon what had happened and pondered Duane's unusual display of emotion (unusual, that is, for him) this is what I now believe had happened. Knowing Duane like I do I know his intent wasn't to manipulate us into some kind of contrived sadness so that we would be in the right mood to pray. No, what I believe we witnessed when two introverts stood before us in an unscripted moment was a prophetic picture of how God feels when his servants suffer – and sometimes die – on account of the Name. It was only a few moments but I believe that picture of God's broken heart for his people “in chains” helped us to intercede in English and (later for those so endowed) in a language we do not know nor fathom.


And then this: Asia Bibi, the Christian Pakistani mother of five we had prayed for on Sunday was released on Tuesday and she and her family have since been moved to a secure location within Pakistan or are currently in exile beyond it (reports are conflicting). I realize that the forty or so saints gathered at 724 Leonard Street in Chetek this past Sunday were but one of probably thousands across the globe who had prayed for her that day and for many months before. But the reminder to me is simple: our prayers matter. Not because on that day we prayed in such a way that he was certain to hear us. Certainly not because we had found (accidentally) “the secret” of effective prayer. But because the Spirit helped us and taught us how to pray for her and for countless others like her on that day.

When he ripped off the fifth seal, I saw the souls of those killed because they had held firm in their witness to the Word of God. They were gathered under the Altar, and cried out in loud prayers, “How long, Strong God, Holy and True? How long before you step in and avenge our murders?” Then each martyr was given a white robe and told to sit back and wait until the full number of martyrs was filled from among their servant companions and friends in the faith.” Revelation 6:9-11, The Message

Until he comes to set things right, may we be found faithful and may he help us to pray for those who suffer in the here and now as he leads us to pray.