A Pinch (3)

As I’ve mentioned the last few days, pinches are inevitable in families and in churches. I then described how I expereinced (and participated in) a pinch at Susan Song Baptist.

After my meeting with the two church leaders, I decided to share the covenant with the church as I had written it. When we got to the portion on the $300.00 for the Reflections meeting, I mentioned that these two men had pulled me aside and expressed concern over that point. I thanked them for expressing their concern and I wanted the church to know that these issues will be dealt with openly and not privately.

I then offered to pay the $300.00 myself if the church deems it appropriate at the end of the interim. I was motivated by the following thoughts:

1) Kicking the can down the road a bit will give the church and I time to develop a stronger sense of trust before we tackle this issue again. They have let a complete stranger into their lives and into their pulpit over the last few weeks. And a city boy at that!

2) There are some underlying concerns about money in the church. Apparently the pastors’ family and extended family (his sons, daughters-in-law and grandkids) attended the church with him. One member has shared with me that one Sunday they had thirty-five people present at church and seventeen were family of the pastor. So with all of these tithers now gone, there is some concern about the financial state of the church. I do think that in a couple of months I will have a better idea of how realistic these financial concerns are.

(I should note parenthetically that when I mentioned the possibility of paying for the Reflections myself, several church members shook their heads, as if to say that they would not allow me to do so.)

So on Wednesday night during our Transition Team meeting, we spent much of the hour discussing the Reflections portion of the Intentional Interim Ministry. One asked why they were responsible for paying for the Center for Congregational Health’s “quality control.” I didn’t point out that a business ALWAYS passes on quality control costs because I’m not completely comfortable with the business model they implicitly assumed or by Bartolo’s comparison of an IIM to a business consultant (I’m not saying that there are no similarities, but I want to keep a distinction between business and ministry, profit and prophet).

Others on the Transition Team felt that someone from outside couldn’t accurately evaluate their church, especially one who drove in from another state to meet with them.

So they accepted my compromise and I changed the wording of the covenant to:

The Church will commit to a time of Reflections at the end of the Intentional Interim Ministry that will cost $300.00. Susan Song Baptist Church will determine at the appropriate time whether the cost of this Reflections time will be paid by the church or by Taran.


Two areas of concern:

First, I can live without the $300.00. In fact, I am sure that any IIM at this church (due to their attendance and remoteness) will not make money. So my main concern is not money, but rather that I do not want the church to establish a pattern of paying ministers on the cheap. I am aware that the church will gauge expectations of its next pastor (for good or for ill) by their experience with me.

Second, I was concerned about the secretive way that two leaders took me aside and spoke on behalf of the church. That may be a sign that the church has dealt with conflict "behind closed doors" in the past. I made a point to mention my conversation with them publicly to make sure that the church deals with “pinches” in an open way.

This last Sunday I presented the revised covenant and we signed it as a group at the end of the worship service. It was a meaningful time as every member of the church, from 7 year olds to 77 year olds came up to the front and signed the agreement. One of the two men who took me aside the previous Sunday, presented me with a beautiful pen and pencil set that he had carved out of cherry wood. (Who knew you could carve a pen?!)

Any thoughts? I'd appreciate any suggestions or rebukes. As I've told you before, this is my first Intentional Interim, I anticipated that there would be some "pinches" along the way.

A Pinch (2)

I mentioned a few days ago about Dennis Burton and Wayne Oakes’s theory of “pinching”. Quite simply, a pinch is when expectations between a church and a pastor are not met. Two Sundays ago I presented the covenant agreement to Susan Song Baptist, with one significant difference. In the initial draft, Susan Song Baptist was going to pay the $300.00 for the Reflections meeting. (Essentially, the Reflections time is when a consultant comes from outside the church and evaluates their impressions of the Intentional Interim Ministry. It is a form of quality control that allows the Center for Congregational Health to tweak the ministry and/or the Intentional Interim pastor.) The $300.00 covers transportation and time for the consultant. But I made two mistakes in presenting it:

1) A key church leader was on vacation that Wednesday night I presented the covenant to the Transition Team. I had not yet identified him as a key leader and didn’t realize that his buy-in was necessary to getting the covenant approved.

2) I underestimated the congregation’s concern with money. As I have since learned, the previous pastor brought his extended family with him to church. And most of them tithed. So in addition to losing the pastor, there is a high level of anxiety in the church about finances. So $300.00 was looking like a huge sum to them. (Their average Sunday giving is right about $300.00).

3) I should've given more time for the church to process the document. Although we had discussed it, they had the covenant in writing for only one week before they were set to vote on it.

So last Sunday, right before the service was set to begin, I heard those fateful words that strike frustration into the heart of every pastor, interim or not, “Brother Taran, may we have a word with you?” The leader who was absent, as well as one who was present at the meeting, took me aside and they expressed their concerns. They thought that $300.00 was a lot of money and didn’t fully understand the role of the Reflections consultant. They told me that they would not sign the covenant as it now read.

Ouch.

Getting pinched is uncomfortable, especially right before the service!

A Tragedy

As Kevin has already noted, the beautiful Trinity Cathedral in St. Petersburg, Russia sustained substantial fire damage today.

I had the privilege of traveling to Russia two times many, many years ago. The first time was in 1991 and the city's name was Leningrad. I traveled with a group of BSU students (known today as BCM) to do cosntruction work in local churches. Although we did not work in the Trinity Cathedral, we passed it every day and enjoyed an incredible tour of its beautiful domes.

The second time I went was in 1994 when Southwestern Seminary took a group of students there to lead worship services and conduct revivals around the city. Trinity Cathedral was still a gorgeous part of the city.

No more (although they do plan to rebuild).

A Pinch

Dennis Burton and Wayne Oakes helpfully describe what happens in a church where expectations are not met. According to their thesis, church families--indeed, ALL families--have certain expectations. Hopefully, these expectations are stated but more often than not, these expectations are not ever expressed. So we each carry around these expectations that the other people in our families (or our churches) must meet.

But we never tell them what they are.

Many of us are familiar with this idea from marriage. An example: An early conflict in my marriage with Kadie revolved around how we would conduct our early morning routine. I had grown accustomed to reading the paper every morning while I was in college. I enjoyed waking up early, eating cereal and sitting on the kitchen floor with the paper spread out before me. I would slowly and methodically read it all from A1 to F18 and enjoy every moment of it.

Kadie had grown up spending quality time together with her family every morning. She often looked forward to eating breakfast together as a family. So her (unstated) expectation was that we would eat our breakfast, gaze into one another’s eyes and talk (I guess that’s what she thought) throughout the breakfast hour. My expectation was that I would find a spot on the floor, spread the paper out and eat breakfast while tuning the rest of the world out for an hour or so.

Our expectations were certain not to be met.

Burton and Oakes call a broken expectation a “pinch”. Pinches aren’t fatal, but they are inevitable. Unfortunately they are often one sided. By that I mean that it is possible for only one person to feel pinched in a situation. In fact, that’s exactly what happened early in our marriage.

The first few days of our post-honeymoon time together, I got up as usual and read the paper while Kadie fixed a nice breakfast. I then ate the breakfast while I read the paper (yes, I’m an idiot, I know). Her feelings were hurt (pinched) and I had no idea that there was even a problem until later. She was pinched while I was oblivious.

It was only after we clearly expressed our expectations to one another that we could reach a mutual accommodation.

The irony is, fifteen years later, our mornings are so helter-skelter that we never take time to eat breakfast together.

And we haven’t had a newspaper subscription in years ;)

Tomorrow: My first pinch at Susan Song.

Intentional Interim Covenant

One unique element of the Intentional Interim Ministry is the requirement of a covenant between the Intentional Interim Minister and the church. This covenant articulates the expectations of both pastor and church. I think that it is important to clearly express exactly what the expectations are for both the Intentional Interim Minister and the congregation. When expectations are clearly delineated, it prevents a multitude of problems later.

The congregation of Susan Song Baptist and I recently worked through the following covenant. We will devote a portion of this week's Sunday morning service to signing this document.

INTENTIONAL INTERIM MINISTRY COVENANT
Between Susan Song Baptist Church and Taran
August 27, 2006

Part I:This covenant commits Taran and Susan Song Baptist Church as partners together for the Intentional Interim Ministry for a period of six months.

Part II: Taran’s responsibilities:

*Taran will be responsible for leading the ongoing ministry of Susan Song Baptist Church. Duties are to include:

*The Sunday morning preaching and worship leadership
*Wednesday Evening Bible study
*Preparation time for Sunday morning and Wednesday Evening
*Weekly Transition Team meeting and preparation
*Other--pastoral care, counseling, weddings, funerals, as Taran’s schedule allows.

Goals of Interim Pastor:
*Taran will consult with the Transition Team to lead the church through the Five Developmental Tasks of the Intentional Interim Ministry. These tasks are:
History, Identity, Leadership and Decision Making, Denominational Connection, and Preparation for New Leadership

*Taran will work to maintain the momentum and ministries of the church
*Taran will lead in the spiritual direction of the church


Part III:Details of the Susan Song Baptist Church’s responsibilities:
*The Congregation of Susan Song Baptist Church commits to provide $XX.XX salary per week for the Sunday morning and Wednesday evening services.

*In addition, other travel associated with normal pastoral responsibilities will be reimbursed at the current government mileage rate.

*The Church will commit to a time of Reflections at the end of the Intentional Interim Ministry that will cost $300.00. Susan Song Baptist Church will determine at the appropriate time whether the cost of this Reflections time will be paid by the church or by Taran.

*The congregation will participate in the Intentional Interim Ministry though prayer, attendance, financial support, and cooperation.

Part IV:Additional information:
*Taran is not a candidate for the role of permanent pastor
*This covenant may be extended by mutual agreement between Susan Song Baptist Church and Taran.
*This covenant may be cancelled by either party with two week’s notice.
*The Intentional Interim Minister will report directly to the Transition Team which will make all recommendations concerning his employment.


Please note any questions or suggestions that you may have. This is my first covenant to draw up and would surely benefit from additional counsel.

Thanks in advance!

Cruising with God

Ed. Note: Let me say from the beginning that Henry Blackaby has done more for the kingdom of God than I have done, or likely ever will do. He has excelled at his work and has built a tremendous ministry that contributes daily to the lives of thousands. I have not. Not to put too fine a point on it, he wrote Experiencing God while I write about dead tadpoles.


Since Henry Blackaby was recently mentioned on both Dave and Kevin’s sites, I was reminded of a brief seminary story that was probably my biggest gaffe while there. In addition to another job I had in seminary, I also worked in Robert’s library at SWBTS. Working in a library is great for bibliophiles and libraries are pretty low stress environments.

Usually.

Early on in my time in the library, I came across an advertisement in the Baptist Standard for an Experiencing God cruise. People paid a lot of money to go on a cruise and study through Experiencing God. The big draw on this particular cruise, as I recall, was that Henry Blackaby would be directing this group on the cruise. So the big selling point was that you could go on the cruise and learn about experiencing God straight from the horse’s mouth.

But studying Expereincing God on a cruise struck me (at the age of 23) as particularly heinous. The idea of engaging on a spiritual retreat while cruising through the Alaskan Sound gazing upon glaciers sounded more like mammon than godliness. My aggravation over this began to simmer and I started grousing about it to my cowowrkers. I then began to talk to my coworkers about the hypocrisy of turning everything over to God and “Finding where God was at work and then joining him there…on an Alaskan cruise.”

I then unleashed a terrific jeremiad that included not only Blackaby, but the entire Baptist Bookstore Lifeway chain about how they had marketed the Gospel and concluded with a thunderous statement along the lines of “If Jesus came back today and went into your average Lifeway store I bet he would start overturning tables!” And I cited all of the attendent Experiencing God merchandise as an example.

Now I’m not one usually given to much passion and perhaps I had too much Tabasco sauce that day at lunch, but it was essentially a hot headed rant. After I finished, I noticed that all my fellow librarians were watching me in an awkward combination of amusement and shock. Jim, Amy, Brian and Kerry were standing there in stunned silence.

My supervisor, a gentle soul, was the first to speak “Taran, have you met all of your coworkers?” I found that an odd question since I had been there a few weeks at that time, but I nodded.

“Are you sure you’ve met them all? Have you met…” and then she dropped the hammer

“Kerry Blackaby?”

Oh. No.


Apparently Henry B has several kids who went through Southwestern and one of them was my coworker. Kerry, for her part, grinned and didn’t say a word.

We worked together for another year and she was always too gracious to mention the incident. She was a wonderful coworker and an even better person. Five years later, when I was pastoring at Lone Oak, our Association had Henry Blackaby and his wife down for some leadership training and I met them and mentioned my connection with Kerry. At that time she was doing well and her parents were two very nice, humble people.

I suppose the post-script to this story is that next week I am facilitating Experiencing God at our church….


But not on a cruise.

***Cheesy Non-Substantive Family Post Alert***

We spent Friday at Six Flags Over Texas, making a one day run that would’ve made Smokey and the Bandit jealous. (Good grief, an opening reference to a movie that came out in 1977). Kadie took our oldest two while each of Kadie’s sisters came along, PT Girl and Nellie. Nellie and her husband are missionaries to a Middle Eastern Country (her husband is an Arab) and they have two teenage daughters. They don’t get to return to the States that often (the daughters haven’t been here in five years) and we wanted to take them to an all American place of fun.

The high was 102, but we kept well hydrated and I’m sure that the heat kept some people away. In addition, school had started and few parents were apparently as hooky permissive as were we. I was concerned about the few operating hours (they were open from 11 to 6 instead of their normal 10 to 9) but we rode far more rides than normal due to the paucity of people. (I rode the Texas Giant three times straight at one point because no one else wanted to get on!).

Some thoughts:

I am always amazed at how vibrating kids, quivering with excitement and fueled the sugar rush from junk food coursing through their veins can be reduced to an almost unconscious state by a day out in the heat and constant walking over the course of seven short hours. The kids were WIPED OUT.

The food prices at Six Flags are obscene. They make airline terminal restaurants seem reasonable. $9.00 for a hamburger combo meal?! I’ll pass.

The older I get, the less scary roller coasters become.

Apparently many people think that it is entirely appropriate to wear a bikini to an amusement park.

You know you are getting old when you think "These shows look more interesting than the rides."


Skeeter continued her tradition of consistently getting lost in family outings. She has been lost in the Denver zoo and in several malls along the I-20 and I-35 Texas corridor. She oftentimes walks along, thinking her own thoughts, oblivious to the world around her.

Right after we arrived at Six Flags, I showed her several workers with their distinctive red shirts. I said “Now, if you get lost, just go up to one of them and tell them that you are lost.”

Seven hours later, at closing time, Karen, Nellie and three of the girls went into a restroom. Skeeter kept walking along. (PT Girl and I were in another part of the park, catching one more ride on the Titan.) Skeeter immediately found a worker, walked up and said “I am lost.” She told me later “I almost cried, but I didn’t.”

The only other loss was my brand new BU hat, which Kadie was wearing on the La Vibora ride. The bill caugfht a wind draft and shot off her head like a green and gold rocket. We reported it missing and they said that they would mail it to us in the next few days.

A wonderful day of fun had by all!!!!!

Transition Team Meeting

I have been remiss in not pointing out one of the most important elements of the Intentional Interim process: the Transition Team. The Team is self-selected from the congregation and must provide a cross section of the congregation that reflects the various ethnic, gender, and age differences within the church. Basically, you want every group (or clique!) within the congregation to have representation on the Transition Team.

Essentially, the Intentional Interim Minister (IIM) directs the Transition Team through the five developmental tasks and then they assist in working with the rest of the church through each task. The IIM also works to build things like community and conflict resolution techniques into the Transition Team so that it models these characteristics to the rest of the congregation.

Galatians 5:9 “A little leaven works through the whole batch of dough” is the verse that reminds me of the work of the Transition Team. Just as gossip and anger can spread until they infest the entire congregational body, so can love and community. By transforming a small group, the church can begin to change.

Last night at Susan Song Baptist we had our first Transition Team meeting. Unlike the typical church that goes through the II process, Susan Song is so small that the Transition Team consists of anyone who comes to church on Wednesday night (about 50% of the church membership!). In order to get to know one another we started off with the Quaker Questions. These elicited some interesting responses. There were two people who grew up with 9 or more siblings and three of the nine grew up in share-cropping families.

One interesting note is that one of the key members of the congregation (he’s in his mid sixties) is illiterate. I was tipped off to that fact shortly before I started calling on people to read the devotional text!

We worked on our decision making processes and reviewed the five developmental tasks. Then we ended with prayer requests and prayer. Overall they were pleased with meeting.

On the way out to our cars, I overheard one lady say to another "Judy, I found out something about you that I didn't know before!" Judy replied "I bet that we find out even more about each other before this process is over!"

It was music to my ears.

A Theological Question

So if it's not actually out yet...

and therefore no one owns one...

is it a sin to covet this?

The Ride Home from School (or My Tax Dollars at Work)

Since Scooter now rides the bus home from school, I get to pick up Skeeter from her school and we get to drive back to the house together. I am discovering how much of the conversation over the last few eyars was dominated by her older sibling. I have enjoyed the last few days of school and we have had some very nice conversations.


Today, however, was not one of them:

Me: "So, Skeeter, what did you learn at school today?"

Skeeter: "Well Daddy, it was so neat! In science today, our teacher got a pickle and put plugs and wires into it and then turned it on!" (I assume she was talking about something like this)

Me: "Wow! That is neat. What did you learn from that?"

Skeeter: (silence)

Me: "What did your teacher tell you about the experiment?"

Skeeter: (more silence)

Me: (Gently prompting) "Did you learn anything about salty pickles and electricity?"

Skeeter: (slowly) "Well, I learned that it looks really cool when pickles light up."

Life Without A Pastor

We had a wonderful day at church on Sunday. Susan Song Baptist foolishly voted to call me as their intentional interim pastor and I have accepted that call. I am excited about the possibilities of working with them through this process. I am humbled as well as exceedingly grateful at the opportunity that I have been provided.

There is a lot of excellent discussion on the interim time going on in the Baptist Blogosphere right now. Marty Duren has a couple of posts (one is linked below) dealing with accurately evaluating a church that is preparing to call a pastor. Bowden has also offered some critical advice for the church in evaluating prospective pastoral candidates. I would offer my two cents here.

As strange as it may sound, I think that there is an incredible opportunity for positive change in a church without a pastor. And I say that as a former pastor. Here are three initial reasons:

First, there is no pastoral ego or pride to complicate the evaluation of the church. One struggle that I often had as a pastor was that I identified my own personal success or failure very closely with the “success” or “failure” of a church. Though on an intellectual level I realized the foolishness of doing so, my self esteem as a pastor depended on the number of people we had in a service, or on the success of our most recent ministry endeavor.

This would sometimes make it difficult for me to objectively evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of the church. I also know from several of my friends in the ministry that this is an issue that they struggle with as well.

Second, during the interim time, the church might have enough impetus for a change. Dr. Iorg of Golden Gate Seminary noted on Marty Duren’s blog, that there must be a critical mass of events (my words) for change to take place.

He writes that “The candidate should also look carefully at the track record of the church. Past behavior is a very good indicator of future practice - especially for mature organizations. A church will usually only change when a significant circumstantial change occurs. The candidate should look carefully to see if circumstances mandate or suggest change is possible - not just that some say it is.”

Often, the flux of the interim time can provide that opportunity for change. I would add that this is largely consistent with most instances of substantial organizational change. I have seen in my own workplace that people without any external force being applied (like a change in leadership, a crisis affecting the organization, etc.) can become largely inured to change.

Lastly, the church can do good work in the area of preparing for the arrival of the next pastor (the fifth developmental task). It is obviously difficult to do so when a current pastor is already on the field. Few pastors will invite an outsider to come in and talk about pastoral/congregational relations unless there is already a problem. The intentional interim process can provide an opportunity to deal proactively with some of these issues before they rise to the level of problems within the congregation.

A few months ago I shared with our Sunday School class an outline of the Intentional Interim ministry. At the end of the class, one member said “I think this would be a good thing for all churches to know, not just those without a pastor.” Although I think that elements of these developmental tasks can be completed in a church with a pastor, I think that these three reasons demonstrate how the interim period can be a productive one due to the (temporary) absence of a pastor.

Developmental Task #5

The final developmental task is aimed at preparing the church for new pastoral leadership. Here the Intentional Interim (II) helps the church to answer one essential question: How can we effectively minister to our pastor?

Many in congregations today are ignorant of what it means to pastor a church. The unique elements of a pastor's life like the bizarre tax codes, the importance of continuing education, and the stress of the pastor's family living a life in the fishbowl of congregational eyes fly under the radar of all but the most sensitive church memebers.

Pastors learn to smile at the "joke" they've heard for years: "So, preacher, what exactly do you do the rest of the week?"

Ideally, the II could lead the church to transform the Pastor Search Committee into a Pastor Support Committee that devises ways to encourage the pastor in the ministry to which God has called him.

I have already written about the difficulties of life for the pastor's wife. This final stage of the II ministry could effectively help the church not to consider the pastor's wife as a bonus "two-for-one" deal that comes with the pastor. Any contribution the pastor's wife makes to the life and fellowship of the church should be appreciated, but not expected.

In addition, here are some things that I would like congregations to consider:

1. Providing sabbaticals for the pastor.

2. A yearly evaluation as a way of providing feedback to the pastor.

3. A support group that would encourage the pastor and provide counsel in certain situations.

4. Making sure that the pastor has adequate time for vacation around important days (his anniversary, his wife’s birthday, kid’s graduations etc.). Related to this is an effort on the part of the church to make sure that the pastor has time off during the week to be with his family.

5. Provide the means for the pastor to attend conferences and conventions that allow him to learn and to fellowship with other ministers.

6. Annually evaluating the pastor’s compensation package and making sure that it reflects a fair wage for the pastor.

I have seen a few examples of a genuine love affair between a pastor and church. It is an amazing thing to observe a relationship where this affection allows incredible things to be accomplished for God's glory.

Please feel free to add to the list, or email me and I will post additional suggestions. I know that two churches at least have linked to Coffeespoons, and I would love to hear from some church members on this topic.

(And neither pastor knew that I’d be posting this!!!!)

The First Day...

I hear the hungry beast before I see it. I always do.

Scotter and I are outside on the intersection in front of our home, waiting for the slow moving behemoth that will soon consume her and take her away. She is less nervous than I am. Today is the first day that she will meet the beast, but it is harder on me than on her. While she waits patiently, I stand there awkwardly, the geeky parent fidgeting more than his daughter.

And then I hear its roar as it slowly changes gears just out of sight.

Our street curves out of sight about thirty yards from our house. The trees and homes of our street form a tunnel that amplifies the sound of the beast as it changes gears. This low pitched roar is a familiar sound, one I hear all the time during the school year. But before this day, it had always come of the children of others, never for mine.

It lumbers into view, its dull, metallic hide glows ominously in the dusky 7:00 am light. It slows down and suddenly its yellow and red eyes begin to flash and blaze a hungry warning. The grill of the monster grins wickedly at me. (Wasn’t it Calvin Miller who once wrote “Love smiles. Evil grins”?) As it rumbles to a stop, its stubby red signs awkwardly extend out like vestigial wings, no longer capable of supporting flight. They too flash a red warning.

As it stops in front of us, its hungry maw folds open and a complete stranger beckons her in. She kisses me, turns and bravely heads for the mouth of the beast. Right before she enters, Scooter turns one last time for a quick wave. Then she vanishes into its belly. It hisses at me, and slowly rolls away with her inside.

And my prayers go with her.

Developmental Task #4

The fourth developmental task that the church engages during the Intentional Interim time is its Identity. Identity is a general term that includes the church’s size, ethnic makeup, location, financial resources, etc. Most times when church members are asked to describe their church they will say something like “We are a friendly church.” But church members can mean by that that they are only friendly to one another! So this task of identity can be important. It involves discussing with the community how they view the church, looking at demographic information about the church, and looking at historical trends in attendance and ministries.

Last night, as I described this stage to the congregation, I told them it was like looking in a mirror. When we look in the mirror, we see things about ourselves that we both like and dislike. This fourth stage holds a mirror up to the church so that they can see themselves as they truly are.

One woman said “Well, I like the sound of this stage, it never hurts to hear the truth!” I disagreed with her and explained that at times the truth can be painful.

I then shared that Kadie and I recently attended a marriage retreat run by a marriage and family counselor and his wife. During the retreat, I came to the realization that even though Kadie and I have been married for fifteen years (and dated for four before that) there are still some significant areas of our relationship in which I am not communicating well.

Understanding that after almost 20 YEARS of a relationship, I still had work to do was a painful realization. (At that point in the meeting, one wife slapped her husband’s shoulder and said “You need to go to one of those retreats!”)

The truth about our identity (whether a church or an individual) can be painful, but it is also necessary.

Susan Song Update and a Note From Bobby

Last night I presented the Intentional Interim Ministry to Susan Song Baptist. They were very intrigued and we discussed it for over an hour. They wanted to vote on it last night (no one expressed any opposition to it) but I encouraged them to pray about it and wait until Sunday. All in all it was an encouraging evening.

I received the following email from Bobby which I reprint in its entirety and without his permission.

I want you to know I read all of your Coffeespoons
posts, even when they start out as full of *promise*
for application to my daily life as: "I should note
that these five developmental tasks are separated only
as a heuristic device." I try not to fear what I do
not understand.

Bobby was making reference to this post. Ok, I'm sorry for the excessive verbiage. I'll write more clearly in the future. Just more evidence of exactly why it was difficult for me to get dates in college.

Developmental Task #3

The third task of the Intentional Interim (II) ministry is the exploration of denominational relationships to the congregation. In my case, I will be working almost exclusively with Baptist churches. This stage will be an opportunity to guide the church through what it means to be Baptist and will explain the fact that we as Baptists come from a theologically rich tradition of the Reformation.

As Baptists, we have done a poor job explaining the traditions and doctrines that form our distinctives. I taught a Reformation course a few years ago and covered the Radical Reformers (who gave birth to the Anabaptist tradition). After class one day, I spoke to a student who had been raised Baptist but converted to Catholicism when she married. She explained to me that she learned far more about what Baptists believed in the several months of her confirmation classes than she did in several years of growing up in a Baptist church.

Southern Baptists do a reasonable job teaching the Bible. We do a horrible job teaching what it means to be Baptist. We tend to define Baptists in our churches in terms of what we do not believe (i.e. witness the current debate among Baptist Bloggers over alcohol) rather than defining ourselves by what we embrace. Many good men and women have died for Baptist beliefs; I want to help churches to understand why they did. I think that the interim time is a natural time when many pastorless churches turn to their denominational resources for help. The interim period is an opportunistic time to explore the beliefs of us Christians who also happen to call ourselves Baptist.

Developmental Task #2

I should note that these five developmental tasks are separated only as a heuristic device. They each overlap and a church would not necessarily work through them in any particular sequence.

The second task in the Intentional Interim (II) program process is examining church leadership and decision making. These are two areas that are often obscured in SBC churches. Since there is not any set polity governing all Baptist Churches, it can oftentimes be unclear how decisions are reached. In some instances, the pastor is king and makes all of the decisions. In others, the deacons lead the church while a council of elders that govern things in other circumstances. Other churches operate by committees. And then there are aberrant situations. I knew of one church where the music minister had been there for decades and effectively controlled all of the new young pastors who cycled through the church over the years.

This second task explicitly brings to the surface and sets down on paper the way that decisions are reached in the church. Covenants and policies are updated and committee structures are created if necessary. A goal of this step is to make sure that there is an explicit, organized, consistent structure to how the church operates. This can allow for fully disclosed expectations when the new pastor arrives.

Kid Verse

Last night at dinner, Skeeter sneaked up behind me and poured half a cup of (very cold) water over my head. I spluttered in shock as she and the rest of the family laughed. I then noticed that she still had half a cup of the iced liquid remaining and I grabbed it and slung the remnants back into her face.

The family continued to laugh and this time she was the one gasping for air. When she could get her breath again she yelled out "Daddy! Don't repay evil for evil!!!!"

It is slightly annoying when your children quote scripture to change your behavior.

Developmental Task #1

This Wednesday night I am presenting the Intentional Interim program to the leadership at Susan Song Baptist Church. I will present the five stages of the intentional interim ministry and I thought that it might be helpful to outline them over the next few days. The role of the Intentional Interim (II) is to take the church through five developmental tasks.

The first task is History. This task explores the history of the church and looks at important junctures in the life of the church. Churches, like individuals, are susceptible to repeating past mistakes. By making the church aware of these past mistakes, and the factors that went into them, the II can guide the church to prevent the natural pattern that it can easily fall into.

We see a biblical example of this in the book of Judges. Judges follows a repetitive cycle:

The people rebel against God through idolatry
God raises up a foreign people group to punish the Hebrews
The people chaff under God’s punishment and cry out to Him
God raises up a savior (Judge) who then achieves a military victory and sets the Hebrews free
After a period of time, the people rebel against God through idolatry (return to step one)

But the purpose is not to dwell only on the negative history. It is also a time to celebrate the tremendous accomplishments of God in the past. God established a couple of traditions that were crucial to how the community of faith saw itself. The Passover and the Lord’s Supper were purposefully designed to remind Israel and the church of the powerful things that God has done in the past.

A final key element to the History of the church is to make sure that the secrets of the church are disclosed. A lot of events in the church are often “papered”over and ignored. A clear look at the history of the church can help to confront and overcome that history.

Fifteen Years and Susan Song

This has been an eventful week. Kadie and I celebrated our 15th Anniversary by driving a ways to Dallas where we stayed an inexpensive, luxurious hotel (thanks, Priceline) and gorged ourselves at the (cheesily named) Texas de Brazil. It is a wonderful churrascaria, which is roughly a Brazilian all-you-can-eat meal where they bring the meat to you. We consumed prime rib, sirloin steak, lamb, ribeye, etc. It was a wonderful meal (and expensive…sheesh, I think we might be able to afford it again when we celebrate our 30th!).

While there we caught two movies, Woody Allen’s new comedy Scoop and M. Night Shyamalan’s Lady in the Water. We enjoyed them both and I think I discerned an idea in Shamylan’s work that might make a nice paper presentation.

After we returned, Susan Song called me and asked me to serve as their interim pastor. I deferred their request and instead planned a meeting with the search committee. We will sit down this Wednesday where I will present them with the intentional interim process and request that they go through with it.

I also informed them that they would have to wait until we complete the intentional interim process before they could begin to search for a new pastor. Their chairwoman said that they have seven resumes but they had already decided to wait before calling another pastor. So I think that the search committee will vote to proceed with the intentional interim and I will present it to the entire church on Sunday. Please keep this process in your prayers.

There were more musical mishaps this morning, but I’ll save that for tomorrow ;)

On Punches and Pedagogy

The following is an article I wrote on the connection between teaching and life-long learning. Although it was written specifically for teaching in an academic setting, I think that it applies to anyone teaching at any level or in any context (pastors included). This article was rejected by some of the finest journals in the teaching field. That's why you are reading it here ;)


How did I get myself into this situation again? It has been almost four years since I passed my doctoral exams and successfully defended my dissertation. At that time I vowed that I would never again put myself into this situation. Several things came to mind in the few moments after I was informed that I had passed my oral defense. Mostly I remember the overwhelming sense of relief that culminated my twelve years of graduate studies. But I also remember one thought in particular. As I drove home that day I vowed: “That was the last exam I will ever take.”

Yet here I am, sweating out another exam. I mean literally sweating. The perspiration pours down my face. I feel so much tension, in fact, that I want to scream. So I do scream. As I finish the exam I yell “Ki- ya” and punch my fist in the air.

I am testing for my yellow belt in Tae-Kwon-Do. Over the last month, I have been taking classes two nights a week and now I am in the middle of a gymnasium with around one hundred other people. They are watching me perform a series of exercises designed to demonstrate a mastery of very basic martial arts skills.

My reason for pursuing this new course of study is a bit more difficult to explain. I am in my sixth year in a tenure track position in philosophy and religious studies. My days are filled with course preparations, writing articles and an ongoing deluge of committee meetings. Three nights a week whiplash occurs as I transition from the mental to the physical arena.

The physical and psychical benefits of martial arts are well documented. They require strenuous effort. When I first signed up for these classes my main goal was to retrain my doughy body which has been finely sculpted by the hours spent standing and lecturing and carried the soft pale hue that only comes from fluorescent lighting found in aging libraries. A second reason that I undertook this regimen was to assist me in learning self-defense. There have been a few occasions during departmental meetings and conference presentations when such knowledge would have been comforting.

But I have been surprised at how much this supposedly personal endeavor has affected my professional approach to pedagogy. I have discovered that the act of learning a new skill has significant implications for how I teach my students. Far from being a mere diversion, this new exercise has begun to reshape my approach to students in the classroom.

First, I am convinced that the act of continuous learning is inherently beneficial. Although we academics spend our professional time engaged in a contemplative life, it is rare that we venture well beyond our own provincial fields. I suspect that the act of acquiring new skills sharpens our wits and allows our minds to remain active and ever-seeking. I have seen similarities drawn between my own areas of research (philosophy and religious studies) and the martial arts. These similarities help me to draw these connections for the class.

Second, my Tae-Kwon-Do classes have helped to keep before me the students’ perspective. A dozen years of graduate school has inoculated me to the initial shock and fear that can accompany the student’s initial exposure to a new area of study. But as I become a student again, I recognize that I do not know a great deal. As I see my instructors carefully going over the same forms, kicks and punches with me, it reminds me of the need to patiently explain and repeat materials in classes of my own. To learn from the ground up reinforces my own patience. My undergraduate years began several decades ago. I need reminders about how difficult the acquisition of knowledge can be.

Third, I hope that my own pursuit of knowledge can model a life-long desire for learning to my own students. They need to understand that their professors are also are engaged in learning. After a rather severe ankle sprain (incurred while foolishly sparring with a man half my age), I was forced to go public with my new-found pursuit. The treatment for my ankle required that I keep it inclined. This led to a very unprofessoral posture as I lectured to my class from a chair, left leg resting upon the desk, as if I were a photograph of one of those Russian leg dances, captured in mid-stride. A student asked “How did you hurt your leg, Dr. Taran?” I had a polished reply ready: “I twisted my ankle when I got into a fight over the weekend.” Apparently this story was so far outside my classroom persona that she didn’t even pause before her next question. “No really, Dr. Taran, how’d you do it?”

Such conversations, it is my hope, make me three dimensional to my students. They reveal me as not a flat, but rather a round character. (Of course, the alternative is that the students will instead see this as another manifestation of that vain attempt to recapture lost youth, most commonly seen around our campus faculty in either the comb-over hairstyle or the powerful sports car). Modeling a desire for learning is an effective way of conveying that same desire to students.

Lastly, learning a new skill keeps me well grounded. If Socrates is correct that an awareness of our own ignorance is the beginning of wisdom, then admitting that I know nothing about a field is an important first step. Arrogance and its stepbrother pomposity are the stock and trade of our profession. Starting a field anew might prove to be a necessary antidote. It is humbling to go to my first class and realize that I really don’t know the material—and that the seven year old to my right does! After signing up for the class, I learned to my horror that one of the instructors was a former student of mine. Now the tables are turned. The evaluated has become the evaluator and the hunter now is the hunted. Right before my test, he approaches me, shakes my hand and says, “Just remember what you’ve been taught and relax, you’ll do well on the test.” I can imagine myself uttering those words to my own students.

As the testing began, the students lined up according to the ranks of their belts. First in line are the black belts, next comes red, then brown, purple, blue, green, yellow and (lastly) white. I am a white belt, which means that I have to wait as teenagers and eight year olds line up in front of me. When the call is made for white belts to line up I am running alongside five and six year olds (including my own seven-year old daughter, ye gods!).

So why do I do it? I now see that taking up a new field improves my pedagogy. One night, after I make the same mistake for the third time, one of my instructors wryly asks “Aren’t you a professor or something?” But I am not. At least not here, here I am a student. And I am convinced that being a student makes me a better teacher.

1,000 Hit

Michael Young isn't the only one to get his 1,000th hit recently.

Today at 3:08 pm, the right reverend Dave Samples became the 1,000th hit on this tiny blog. Some bloggers get 1,000 hots a day, but I didn't really think that there would be that many people checking out Coffeespoons. Many of you have been consistently dropping by and I appreciate it. What started as a way to record some of my thoughts on family and spiritual matters has found a nice niche.

Some thoughts for those who regularly check in from time to time...

Extended family, I started this blogsite to keep you up to date with our little family. I’m glad that it has expanded a bit beyond that.

Kevin, Bowden and Dave, I have enjoyed your sites and feeling like I’ve gotten to know you (or at least, your cyber-persona). By far the best thing to come out of this site has been the wisdom I have received in some of our written comments.

Eddie and David, a mighty long time since our Carrol Park touch football days (with David running DIRECTLY over Eddie and I). It is exciting so see how God continues to bless your ministries.

Bobby, PTGirl, MrGinger and PoMonkey, I’m glad that we have a new outlet for our old friendships (was college really 17 years ago?!)

Lurkers, I don’t know who you are, but I do know where you live!!

Family Vacation

Sorry for the radio silence the last few days. We returned yesterday from our family vacation. We traveled down to Gulf Shores for a family reunion and had a grand time. We caravanned with Kadie’s sister and my brother-in-law and attended a family reunion.

I note the following things:

A caravan can only travel as far as its tiniest bladder. Squealer and his cousin Grace (Grace is the same age as Squealer, and vastly advanced in all manner of things, potty training among them) made constant stops a necessity. This constant stopping goes against the natural inclination of man, dating back, no doubt, to our hunter-gatherer days. I like to travel far distances between stops, but with a potty training Squealer, that was not possible. Or it was possible, but there would be a substantial mess as a consequence. I like my brother-in-law’s dictum: "One stop per state." That seems about right.

I don’t often think of Alabama and apocalyptic literature, but everywhere we traveled throughout the state I saw the license plate that reads: "The Stars fell on Alabama." Isn’t that a bad thing?

Not everyone looks good in a bikini.

There are many teaching opportunities for you and your kids at the beach. "Don't dress like her, don't act like him."

Sand gets everywhere in the condo. When you are chewing gritty gum, you know that it’s time to leave.

Here was an unexpected question. After passing by a Civil War marker, I explained that the North won this particular battle. Skeeter responded by asking "Is it good that the North won?" Boy, what a hard question for a Southerner! Yes, I replied though it was harder to admit than I had expected.

The three greatest devices in the history of humanity are: fire, the wheel, and the portable DVD players.

If your kids climb all over your back while you are wrestling on the beach, You will need to reapply sun screen, or else your shoulders will burn…bad.

Gas is expensive.

Susan Song Baptist Church

Intentional Interim update:

I have now preached twice at Susan Song Baptist church. (Obviously not the real name, but very similar to the real name). I think the church is named after the street where it is located, but it still the first Baptist Church I have ever preached in with a woman’s name.

The first time there were around a dozen present, this time they had over twenty in attendance. As I’ve mentioned, they are still in shock over the departure of their pastor but they are committed to moving forward. They are a very, very sweet community of faith.

The music is simple and sincere and typical of a rural church. The sanctuary is filled with wooden pews while a familiar picture of Jesus hangs on the wall. (Yes, that one). They sing out of a shape note hymnbook and are accompanied by a piano, guitar (played sideways on the lap), a harmonica and an autoharp (pictured at left). All hymns must be transposed to the key of either C or G. Songs from this last Sunday morning included “Come to the Church in the Wildwood” and “Bound for the Promised Land.” Conversation before the service covered cotton and corn prices, as well as our current drought.

There is a cultural gap for me (I have always been a city boy), but I gain much from it. I need to work at translating my academic-influenced reading of the Bible into something of value for them. Teaching and preaching in a rural setting helps to ground me in pastoral relevance. I should know in a couple of weeks if they want me as interim or simply as supply.

Glimpses of Grace

The year is 2003. I attended the funeral of the father of my closest college friend James. I gave him a ride to Waco, Texas and then out into the country cemetery where his father would be interred. His brother, his sister Samantha and their grandmother were also present.

The funeral ended, not so much with a bang, but a whimper. It was a hot day, the kind of day that always accompanies central Texas and summer months. The wind blew hard and the sun and sand would sting your eyes if you didn’t squint hard enough. Mr. Roberts was an air force veteran. The high point of the service was the military salute to Mr. Roberts. First was the incredibly intricate, incredibly solemn, folding of the American flag which had been draped across the casket. Following this careful choreography, the two airmen who had performed this delicate dance carried the flag to their commanding officer. He gently cradled the flag in his arms, and then carried it over to James, Mr. Roberts’ son. The soldier knelt in front of James and said “On behalf of the President of the United States, a grateful nation, and a proud Air Force, this flag is presented as a token of our appreciation for the honorable and faithful service rendered by your loved one to his country."

Following these words, a series of salutes and stances were taken by the soldiers and the requisite twenty and one shots were fired. As the first volley was fired, everyone in the funeral gathering flinched, many as if they themselves had been shot. By the third time, we were accustomed to it and across the central Texas hill country, the shots echoed for a few brief seconds before passing away.

After the salute, casings from the bullets were given to the three surviving children and the veteran’s mother. Then we paused for the end of the service. Although I had not attended a service like this before, even I knew what would be the conclusion. We began to wait for the plaintive wail of the trumpet player, performing Taps. The bugler was a large woman who had stayed away from the others as they prepared to begin the service. I had seen her steal away silently during the funeral and now, as I looked around I saw her nowhere. Safely out of sight, I knew that she was preparing to play. As the commanding officer waited patiently, the hot day grew even hotter as beads of sweat formed on his forehead and dropped down to stain his uniform.

And we waited, all the while hearing nothing but the rustle of the wind across the desolate area. A few of us moved toward one of the gnarled Mesquite trees, seeking a semblance of shade. We continued to wait for Taps to begin. The sons, the daughter, and Mr. Roberts’ mother waited silently, and eventually began weeping. Finally, after an excruciating length of time (though probably no more that five or six minutes), the commanding officer left the grave side and began searching for the lost bugler. Several minutes later, he returned and apologized as he announced that due to the extreme heat, the bugler would be unable to play. The service ended awkwardly.

As we filed back to our cars, I noticed that the heavyset woman with the trumpet was breathing hard by the military vehicle that had brought them out to this country graveyard. She was plainly overcome by the heat and was gasping to catch her breath. I overheard two older men making snide remarks about women not being able to take the heat and wondering “How hot it must be right now in Afghanistan.” Their derision and scorn provided a depressing coda for the ceremony.

But as we passed by the bugler, James’ sister Samantha lingered by the bugler for a moment. Samantha was concerned about the woman’s health and wanted to make sure that she would be alright. The woman began to weep and apologize to Samantha for “Ruining your father’s funeral.” The woman then told Samantha that she was seven months pregnant, but was the only one in the honor guard who could play Taps and she wanted to be there. Samantha hugged her and told her that it was alright, that she understood. I’ll always remember the sight of the two of them crying together as they embraced.

I’ve always been touched by that glimpse of grace. The bugler found out a bit about grace that day as the woman whose father had died so suddenly ministered to another. The bugler too was motivated by grace as she sacrificially gave up comfort and even safety, enduring intense heat for another. C. S. Lewis says that God speaks to us in our pleasures, but shouts at us in our pains. God gently reminded me that hot, summer day, of his sacrificial love for us through these two graceful women.

Props for Kadie

JCAHO stopped by Kadie’s hospital this week. JCAHO is to hospitals what the Gestapo was to your average law abiding German and the KGB to your every day Russian. Not in a moral sense, of course, but in the sense that they inspire fear in the hearts of every hospital employee. They appear at random and quiz the employees on policies and procedures. Their job is to find mistakes. A negative word from them can result in an employee being written up at best, or even terminated if negligence is detected. (To get some idea of the sense of dread their name evokes, Googling the phrase "JCAHO sucks" reveals over 15,000 hits).

[Ed. note: I do fully understand the necessity of an accrediting agency. One of the reasons that we have educational and medical systems that are the envy of the world is because of the strict and rigorous processes of ongoing certification.]

In short, they are scary. This week they arrived on Kadie’s floor and began snooping around. They asked opened a chart at random and asked the nursing supervisor to show them an example of how the staff evaluates a patient’s pain. Now as I understand it (and Kadie rolls her eyes and shakes her head slowly whenever I speak of medical things) when a patient requests pain medication, the nurse must evaluate their current pain level, give the medication, and then a few hours later follow up and evaluate the pain condition again. But as busy as nurses are, at times they do not follow up and evaluate the patient’s condition again. The average nurse assumes that if the patient is still in pain after taking the meds, then they will let the nurse know.

So the JCAHO agent was checking the charts to make sure that the nurse had correctly followed procedure. Well, you can see where this was going. They pulled one of Kadie’s patients and checked her chart. The nursing supervisor said that she was holding her breath as they looked.

Of course, Kadie had perfectly followed proper procedure. Her supervisor expressed relief that they had pulled Kadie's chart. I was surprised by none of this. She is a remarkable nurse and is gifted for that occupation.

Regrettably, she also never reads this blog, so I will score no brownie points with her. I simply want to brag on my fine spouse.

An Impractical Joke

Kevin's query triggered this early marriage memory.

Flashback to February of 1992:

Kadie and I are in our first year of school in Fort Worth. I am in seminary while she is wrapping up her R.N. at TCU. Scooter, Skeeter and Squealer do not yet exist.

It is a cold morning and I am preparing to go to work at the library. We lived in B.H. Carroll Park in one of the two-bedroom apartments. I drove the 73’ canary yellow Volkswagon SuperBeetle and Kadie drove the first love of my life, a 1984 Suburban. (The wifey always gets the best car of course. Although in this case the "best" was certainly relative). Since the weather is cold, Kadie likes to allow the Suburban to heat up in the morning before she gets into it. She would turn it on, lock the doors to it, and finish getting ready in the house. (The parking lot was located very close to our apartment, maybe 25 feet away). The Suburban would then heat up and get toasty warm so that when she got in she would have a comfortable ride to school.

I expressed concern to her that it might not be the safest place to keep a running car, even with the doors locked. Someone might steal it. But we never reached a consensus in our conversation. One morning I went to work but forgot something. When I returned to our parking lot, I saw the suburban gently running, the tell-tale sign of condensation floating out of its tail-pipe.

I actually remember thinking “I’m going to teach Kadie a lesson.” [I interrupt this narrative, from the vantage point of 15 years marriage, to say that a husband should NEVER have this thought, and if he is foolish enough to think it, he certainly should never act on it]. So I parked the Bug down the street and then I returned and moved the Suburban. I parked it on the next block and then I returned to the parking lot, hiding behind some cars and watching our back door.

I shivered and waited about five minutes. While waiting, I planned on what to do next. I had thought she would walk out of the apartment and I would say something like “So, did you lose something?” amidst much laughter. But that is not quite how it turned out. There would be much less laughter than I had anticipated.

Finally, Kadie opened the door and….stopped. She stared for a moment at where the Suburban should be. Then I watched in horror as she turned, went back into the apartment and slammed the door. Now I was struck with indecision. Should I wait here for her to return? But then I realized she might be calling campus security, so I raced across the parking lot and went careening into the door as I clambered into the kitchen.

Now picture this from Kadie’s perspective. The car is missing, so she was worried about thieves. Then she went into the kitchen to call me at work to tell me what was going on. All the while she is terrified that these thieves might still be around. Then I came crashing into the kitchen, slamming open the door. (Who knew you could slam open a door?!). She immediately thought I was one of the car thieves and let out an unholy scream of terror.

She began speaking to me again last Thursday.

Fun Referrals

Ever since Bowden posted on the monkey porn hits on his site (don't ask, read his original post here), I have been keeping an eye on referrals. Today I got a hit from someone who Googled Drew Carey and Jehovah. It referenced Fluidice's comment here. I grow increasingly concerned about America's theology when these two terms are united (and America's taste in comedy for that matter.)

Oddly enough, by far the most hits I've gotten from anything on this site was a post where I mentioned hippophagy (the consumption of horseflesh). Inexplicably, I received a lot of hits on that term from Australia....which has made me a bit wary of my next trip to Outback "Steak"house. Is this the reason that Aussie cuisine has never really taken off the way that French or Indian has?

Two Little Monkeys, Jumping on a Bed...

Flashback: The year is Spring of 2000 and we are preparing to move from Waco to our new home.

We had a rule in our house that jumping on the bed was not permitted. The kids knew that jumping on the bed was akin to the laws of the Medes and the Persians that could never be altered. It was strictly forbidden. One afternoon, Scooter came downstairs with Skeeter in tow. (Scooter would often be the spokesperson while Skeeter stood there as silent and curly headed as Harpo).

Scooter: "Father, may we jump on the bed?"

Taran: "No daughter, you know that it is a rule of the house that you must not jump on the bed."

Scooter: "But Father, jumping on the bed is fun." (Skeeter nods emphatically).

Taran: "It is true daughter, that jumping on the bed is fun. But jumping on the bed is not good for the bed. Because of how badly it hurts the bed, you may not jump on it."

Scooter: "But father, isn't it true that we are buying a new bed for our new apartment?"

Taran: "Yes daughter, we will be getting you and your sister a new bed after we move."

Scooter: "So can't we jump on the bed since we will be getting a new one?"

Taran: (silence...thinking...thinking...silence)

Scooter: PLEASE!!!!!! (Skeeter makes a very pleading face)

Taran: "Yes daughters, you may jump on the bed."

The girls chirped their thanks and bounded up the stairs. I soon hear the little bed squeaking and groaning under their collective weight. Their giggles bring a smile to my face.

Then I ignored them and turn on the Texas Rangers game.

Time passes (minutes, hours?) and the front door unlocks and opens. Kadie has arrived at home.

Before I get in a greeting she freezes and says (like Samuel to Saul) "What's that sound that I hear?"

(squeak, giggle, squeak, giggle)

Taran: "Oh, that's the girls, they're jumping on the bed."

Kadie: (silence...silence...)

Taran: (sensing trouble, speaking quickly) "Well, as Scooter pointed out to me, we are going to be getting a new bed, and jumping on the bed is fun, so I told them..."

Kadie sliced off my explanation with "Taran!" (which sounded like an expletive). It then dawned on me that she was wearing her scrubs. I remembered that she was a nurse. I remembered then that she was at that moment a practicing pediatric nurse. I remembered then that she was a pediatric nurse who often worked with children who have experienced blunt head trauma injuries.

"Taran" she said, and held up her hand to stop my stuttering 'explanation'.

Kadie then took on a tone of voice that she had previously reserved for talking to three-eyar olds. "Taran, the danger is that they might fall from the bed onto the hardwood floors that are, you know, hard wood."

She continued "I am not concerned about the bed, but rather head injuries. Don't you even sing a song to them about it?"

Taran: "Ummm....I thought that was just a song."

The Angry Sermon

Well, I preached the “Angry Sermon” yesterday morning. Actually that was the title of my Word file. For Sunday morning I called it “A Lamentable Monday” where I described last Monday in detail and then looked to biblical texts that help us to deal with days like that. I settled on the lament psalms as psalms that were written for Mondays like last week.

There are more lament psalms than hymns of praise in the Bible. Those who suffer and work their way through frustrating days (like Monday) or awful days for those who experience great loss can find solace in the psalms.

We looked at Psalm 12 (a lament for someone attacked unjustly), Psalm 6 (a lament for a sick person) and Psalm 88, the angriest psalm in the Bible. I called it the Mariana Trench of the Old Testament.

There are four things we can learn from these lament psalms:

1. They remind us that we are part of a community that has experienced these emotions before. Evangelicals in general, and Baptists in particular often ignore the rich religious tradition that came before us. The psalms remind us that others have suffered before us.

2. By praying these psalms we can transform our own prayers. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said “Whoever has begun to pray the psalms earnestly and regularly, will soon give leave to those other, easy prayers of their own because they lack the power, passion, and fire to be found in the Psalter.” Praying the psalms provides a powerful antidote to the “Lord, we just wanna” prayers that characterize so much of church life.

3. The lament psalms push us to communicate with God. Even the deepest, darkest, most painful psalms are still addressed to God. Angry prayers still have a seed of hope in them that God listens and that God can change things.

4. They remind us to be authentic. The psalmists were authentic in their prayers. They unashamedly shared their true feelings. Far too often today we keep our church relationships superficial. (“I’m fine, how are you?” “Fine” “How is work?” “Good!” Etc.)

I am convinced that part of what turns people off to church is the superficiality of church members (including myself).

Our church posts mp3 versions of sermons, contact me if you suffer from insomnia and would like that link.

On Shrimpy (R.I.P) and Bad Surprises

Many thanks to those who chimed in and offered creative (and surprisingly theological) suggestions for cushioning Scooter from the blow of Shrimpy’s demise. I was pleased to discover that I am the first (and surprisingly, only) person in the history of the internet to use the phrase “regenerate tadpole.” In the end, we elected to expose Scooter to the harsh realities of this present age and informed her of Shrimpy’s passing.

Here is how Scooter found out:

The Scene:

The family is driving home from the church after picking Scooter up from pre-teen camp. Kadie is driving (Taran is at work). Squealer (age 3) is “singing” the music for Sesame Street at the top of his lungs, oblivious to the drama about to unfold. Kadie turns the music up to try to cover up Squealer’s (increasingly loud) voice. The girls sit on either side of Squealer.

Skeeter (age 7): “Scooter, when we get home I have a surprise for you…”

Scooter (age 10): “Oh good! I love surprises”

Skeeter: “Well, it’s a bad surprise”

Scooter: “A bad surprise?"

Skeeter: "A very bad surprise."

Scooter, noting Skeeter's expression, "Oh no! What is it? Are Trixie, Boots (our puppies) and Shrimpy still alive?”

Silence…silence…

Mom's voice from the front seat: “Well, … Boots and Trixie are.”

Followed by much wailing and weeping. All the while Squealer is warbling the Sesame Street theme song at 400 decibels.

Now fast-forward ahead in time some, thirty years:

The Scene:

A doctor’s office. A worried patient is awaiting the results of his lab work. The doctor walks in.

Dr. Skeeter (37): “Mr. Jones, I have a surprise for you…”

Meetings and Ministry

The student came by in the morning and the meeting went fine. No chairs (literally or figuratively) were thrown. He was cordial and composed during our conversation. In fact, later in the day, the professor called me on the phone rather sheepishly and informed me that the student had been right. The professor had misplaced his work and the student actually passed the class and did not earn an “F” after all. Well then.

I am learning a lesson that no doubt applies to all people in leadership positions. Crises always come (and this one was relatively minor). I find that it is healthy to expect them and I am better prepared to face them at that time. Over the last two years as a department chair, I find myself often enjoying the problem-solving that so often comes with this job. Well, to be more precise, I enjoy solving the problem.I think that most of the time students need to believe that someone cares for them (a fact I told that student yesterday as well as the waif). Students (and faculty for that matter) simply need to see that someone cares for them and is willing to work with them to resolve their concerns. I think that institutions bounce people around from office to office more than they help them with their problems. (I know I have all too often been guilty of that).

In other news I am talking with a church about becoming their interim pastor. I preached there last Sunday and I am scheduled to preach there again on the 23. Their pastor of eight years walked into the Wednesday night meeting a few weeks ago and announced “That’s it, I’m done!” and gave no two weeks notice and has not been back to the church since.

He didn’t end well.

(I half expect to see his name in the paper one upcoming morning!!). They are a very small, very rural church, quite similar to Lone Oak. They have a message board outside their church which reads “The Little Church with a Big Heart.” Due to the way their pastor left, they are still in a bit of shock. Please keep me in your prayers as I continue to discuss the interim position with them.

Make Him Stop

Please.

http://playlist.yahoo.com/makeplaylist.dll?id=1445131&sdm=web&qtw=640&qth=400

Digital Invective

The echocardiogram revealed that Scooter's heart has a small bit of seepage among the chambers, but apparently that is true for most people. Her doctor's nurse indicated that her heart is fine. Apparently she is prone to fainting spells (if prone means once every three years or so) . I very much appreciate all of those who prayed for her well-being. It is a blessing to hear from brothers in Christ you never knew you had.

Pardon the following extended rant. I don't rant well. Go read Spleen or Screeds for some real quality rage. I’m hoping that the transformation of my rage to pixels will allow it to mellow and depart. (Actually, as I type this now a day later, I'm doing fine). Be aware that there is nothing in what follows that will be either redemptive or edifying.

Caveat lector.

Yesterday began with a severe lack of sleep from the night before. My bride is working evenings right now and our quality time for a “daily dialogue” is between the hours of 11 pm and 12 am.

When I arrived at work Monday morning I discovered that my 5 day old computer hard drive had crashed. Frustration mounted as I realized that I was going to have to reconstruct some documents for a 9:00 meeting. I did complete some of the work, but at the cost of my sanity.

In the meeting we discussed how we would apportion a 5% raise that is the first raise our state legislature has passed in six years. As a colleague of mine said after the meeting, “I feel like we’re a bunch of skinny rats fighting over a crust of bread.”

Following the rat meeting, I found out that an insurance company had not received my medical records from my doctor’s office despite the fact that they have faxed them repeatedly. I went by the doctor’s office and said to the secretary “I need some help dealing with an idiot insurance company.” She replied “Most of them are” and graciously rendered assistance. Then I reminded myself not to use the word idiot.

When I returned to my office, I had a hostile student waiting to talk with me about one of his classes. For a department chair, this is not unusual. Probably four or five times a semester I’ll have a student come by to register a complaint or just vent about their classes. But our conversation revealed that his was a class he took TWO years ago. He had one of my colleagues for the class and wanted to protest his “F”. After an extended conversation revealed that he had not even spoken with his professor first, I encouraged him to do so.

Ironically, while Dave was spending some time with Psalm 78, I was turning to Psalm 30, a beautiful thanksgiving psalm which helped a lot. I then decided to start on my sermon for Sunday (our pastor is attending a conference next weekend, in that state, and he foolishly asked me to preach in his stead). I’ve never written a sermon when I was mad before, and I look forward to seeing how it turns out.

When I arrived at home I noted Shrimpy’s passing. I was unsure if s/he was sleeping or dead, but when I put him/her in the water, s/he floated upside down. Scooter is at pre-teen camp through Friday, so I have until then to figure out how to break the news to her. The time honored sit-com solution (going out and buying a new tadpole) is not an option because Skeeter saw the corpse. Maybe Shrimpy could “get better” all of the sudden…hmm.

Then after dinner I hustled Squealer off to bed and got ready to end my day. I vegged with my new issue of Christianity Today and my old issue of Sports Illustrated from last week.

Then, around 9:45, as I began to drift off to sleep the phone rang. It was the student. The student from earlier. The one asking about his grade. The one who had waited for two years, but couldn’t wait until 8:00 the next morning when I’d be back in the office. We conversed. I encouraged him to come by the office Tuesday morning. He did.

I’ll tell you about my meeting with him tomorrow.

The Sooner the Finished the Better

And no, that's not another Oklahoma reference. It is in reference to today. Today has been most bilious. This is a Monday that cannot end soon enough.

No news on Scooter. Her doctor gets the test results tomorrow…but doesn’t work on Tuesdays, so we might find out something on Wednesday.

My computer hard drive died today.

Not to be outdone, Shrimpy also decided to died.

More tomorrow.

Thar Be Pirates Heer!!

Bowden's daughter wasn't the only one who watched the Pirates of the Carribbean last night. Kadie and I had a wonderful date night as we inflicted the three kiddos on a babysitter and had a nice dinner (a Cajun restaurant) and a movie. At the theater we saw twelve people from our church and got tickets only because I ordered them online earlier in the day. I spoke with a lot of people throughout the day who were going to it, which I guess explains this shocking news!!!!!

A stunning half a mill opening day. I had reasonably low expectations for the film, and they were well met. As busy as I've been, I had no idea that it was the first installment of a two part episode shot back to back (a la the LOTR or Back to the Future trilogies). So it ended in media res, but was still alright. It did remind me a lot of the Captain Blood type of films, where you just suspend your disbelief and ride along for the fun. For a full review by an administrator at the premier Baptist University in the country, read Thomas Hibbs’ take.

I won't risk stepping onto someone else's turf here, but one thing struck me about the film. Jack Sparrow might become one of the more iconic film characters in time. I suspect that he will really resonate with contemporary culture and we will soon see Sparrow references umm, flying everywhere.

Non-Update on Scooter

Scooter had her echocardiogram yesterday and we have not heard the results. We should hear something on Monday and I appreciate all of your prayers. She seems fine and I am optimistic that the test will show nothing amiss.

Walter Wangerin, Jr.

Several years ago, every Sunday morning as I wound my way for an hour from Waco to Lone Oak, Kadie and Scooter would both nod off as we drove along Hwy 84. To break up the lonliness, I would run through the AM dial listening to various preachers. Listening to these disembodied voices has always been a favorite amusement of mine. I recall nearly driving off the road one morning in laughter as a preacher referred to Pilgrim’s Progress by Paul Bunyan.

One morning I came across a narrative sermon that reduced me almost to tears as I heard a simple, evocative, presentation of the Gospel in an elegant way. That was my first exposure to Walter Wangerin, a Lutheran minister who preached on a show called Lutheran Vespers for years. Although he has written prolifically, I have not particularly enjoyed his written words. But his sermons are remarkable.

Last year he was diagnosed with cancer and has been keeping a journal (blog?) about his experiences. They remind me very much of Lewis’ A Grief Observed. I commend them to you for your reading. He is currently the writer-in-residence at Valparaiso University and his website is located here. To read about his battle with cancer, read his archives entitled “For Your Information.” The archives are located here.

I assume that most of you are unfamiliar with him and I only located him by chance. I did find a chapel address he delivered at Valpo on May 22 that is wonderful and available in MP3 format here.

I believe that you will benefit from it.

Is Oklahoma more than OK?

Something has recently come to my attention. I got started along this little blogging adventure last winter when I Googled “intentional interim” and "blog" and received numerous results. Among other web pages, it turned up Bowden McElroy’s site. He has worked as an intentional interim and founded his site as a way of keeping in touch with the church where he served. (Although now he writes about contemporary controversies like Olympic snowboarding). He lives in Oklahoma.

From Bowden's blog, I started to follow the travails of Wade Burleson on his web site. He too is from the state of Oklahoma. Hmm, I sense a trend developing. From there I started reading Wes Kenney's (counter-conventional blog wisdom) thoughts. He is also from that panhandled state.

But the straw that broke the camel’s back was the shocking news that Art Rogers is heading out west!!

So why does Oklahoma wield such tremendous power in the blogosphere? (Some might proffer the explanation that there’s little else to DO in Oklahoma, but I wouldn't say that.) But as native (though now former) Texan I never gave Oklahoma a great deal of thought. (Except on those all too frequent occasions when OU spanked Texas in the Red River Shootout). But I need to rethink these deeply held prejudices. After all, Oklahoma does host the world’s greatest fast food chain, and was the college stomping grounds of my favorite Dallas writer and one of my favorite theologians.

Full disclosure: I was saved some twenty odd years ago during summer camp at the gorgeous Falls Creek encampment. I was baptized by a current faculty member at Oklahoma Baptist University, and my father-in-law is a non-attending member of the Emmanuel Baptist Church in Enid, a fact I discovered only yesterday. My bride, Kadie, was also born in Enid, though quickly left the state afterward. That is the extent of my Oklahoma-related ties.

So what gives? Has the geo-political-theological center of Baptist life shifted from Nashville to Shawnee? And is that a good thing?

Scary Times!

I went in to work for a few hours yesterday morning. The campus is closed down, but it can be a productive time with students (and faculty!) away. When I got home, my brother-in-law and niece were out in the yard with worried expressions on their faces. “Scooter fell off her bike and an ambulance is on its way.”

After I ran inside, I found Kadie with Scooter in the bathroom. Scooter looked very pale. Kadie filled me in on the story. Scooter fell off her bike and received a run-of-the-mill knee scrape and walked inside the house crying slightly. She was sitting down while Kadie cleaned her knee. Scooter then complained that she felt sick and needed to lay down. Before Kadie could move her, Scooter’s eyes rolled up into her eyelids and she slumped forward.

She awoke almost instantly and Kadie (a Registered Nurse, thank God) wiped a cool rag across her face. Scooter then said that she felt dizzy and passed out again. This time she was out for about fifteen seconds and her right arm curled up and one leg raised, just like she was suffering a seizure. Then she awoke again. Kadie asked her sister to call for an ambulance and continued to wipe Scooter’s face for the next five minutes.

About this time I arrived, followed quickly by the EMTs. They took her vital signs which all registered within the normal range. As we told them, Scooter has actually fainted twice before. Once when she was four she was sick and trying to throw up and it triggered a Vasovagal reflex. Then last year she was running across her playground at school and passed out while again trying to throw up, due to a stomach virus.

The EMTs said that an ER trip was really unnecessary and so we went to the doctor’s office. Her pediatrician thinks that Scooter may just be more likely to faint then most. Kadie was a little concerned about the seizure like symptoms, but the doctor thinks that it was not a seizure. She did say some people can faint quite easily, such as when they are startled or angered.

The doctor does want to rule out a heart arrhythmia and gave Scooter an EKG which was fine. Thursday at 10:00 she has scheduled an echocardiogram which is apparently like a sonogram for her heart. That test should rule out any heart problems. Please keep us in your prayers if you think of us.

Life can change in an instant!

Shockingly It Thrives!!!

In order to respond to the thousands of requests one, prompted, request for an update, I will now let you all know how our tadpole is doing. Although we have two real pets, puppies Trixie and Boots, we have also acquired an unwanted amphibian by the name of Shrimpy. (I looked back at the original post and apparently it had not yet been named. Scooter chose the name, which Shrimpy continues to live up to.) I personally think that Shrimpy is too close to an edible name, but it has stuck.

But despite my dark threats, assumptions about the girl's attention span, and presence of Squealer looking menacingly down upon the creature, Shrimpy remains well. S/he continues to grow and has sprouted little legs. S/he looks roughly like this one. Except that the girls keep Shrimpy's water cleaner.

I still am pessimistic about the animal's survival chances, but we shall see.

Just more of the useless archana that makes our lives so meaningful.

A Few Last Memories from Central Texas

A few weeks ago I promised a few more pictures from Hwy 31. First I found this picture from Leroy, Texas fascinating. Apparently in Leroy, the Methodists and Baptists share a building. I don't know anything else about it, but I like it. I mean, its not as ecumenical as allowing your church to be used for bar Mitzvahs, but it is still pretty neat. I wondered if the used the "Artic Edge"? (Full disclosure: Leroy is not actually on Highway 31, but rather on a side road where we I got lost.)

Elvis loved his fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, Oprah loves sweet potato pie, while Bowden loves doughnuts. But the Taran clan lives for Braum's. There are two Braum's on Highway 31, one in Athens and one in Corsicana. If we time our trip just right we can hit them both.

This unholy addiction is abetted by the fact that there is not a Braum's within an hour and a half of our home, so we must stop when we can. A number one combo and a Limeade make the trip that much sweeter. Then hit the other Braum's for ice cream dessert. MMMMmmmmm...

(Please note the Las Vegas feel of the Athens Braum's at night. That place is hopping--------------------------->)