The Future

Apparently a storm is coming....or not!  Depending on who or what or where you get your information, this weekend will be a white-out or just a flurry.  Here at WEPC, we are trying to make provision for the storm.  If we think we need to cancel the 9:00 service and Sunday School on the 26th, we will go ahead, take the risk and make that decision by noon on the 24th.
At least Jesus really knows how to throw a Birthday Party!

Cancer

Just got back (in the snow) from Marti's regular appointment with the medical oncologist.  WOW every Christian should spend time with people who are undergoing chemotherapy.  Quite the study in the dissonance I wrote about earlier (bald heads,stunningly pale, under Santa hats).  I chatted with a few folks while there.  It is enlightening to see folks who are really sick, maybe terminally so, scrapping a round for some joy.
So this got me to thinking....
Cancer makes me believe the Gospel.   If this is all there is, then our lives are short affairs marked by moments of exquisite joy, and periods of pain, in the midst of alot of mundane living.  I really need a sense that Jesus sees, and He comes and He gives hope, sometimes in healing, sometimes in resurrection. Thankfully, the Gospel is true and the hope never dies.
PS Marti is fine.  Got a new drug, that the doc wants to try for a couple of months.

Dissonance

Years ago  my office was across the street from the Westhampton Cemetery.  It was always interesting to see what was going on over  there.  A couple of years Christmas fell on Sunday morning.  Two memories I have, one was of the plastic poinsettias blowing across the street and the other was the number of folks who would visit graves early on Christmas Day.
Last year, during Advent, I, on one Saturday, did a memorial service for one family and an interment in the rain and snow for another.  It reminded me of the absolute necessity of celebrating Christmas.  Not because of sentimentality, but because of our need to believe and see that God does not leave us alone in our darkness but comes to overwhelm the darkness. 
I love Christmas, but it is not heaven.  Every celebration, every feast, every family gathering, is tinged with just a bit of our contingency and sin.  Every cup of cheer eventually runs out. 
Now.... I think we should celebrate hard, precisely because we still live in a fallen world and we anticipate a final and glorious celebration.  We should celebrate in a lively way because it is faithful.  But our celebrations are not perfect because they end and because fallenness intrudes.  There are Herods aplenty in this world. 
I know this is not the typical sentimental view of Christmas.  We usually use it as a time to forget about the hard stuff.  I will celebrate this year and forget the hard stuff for a little while, glad that Jesus never forgets or ignores the hard stuff.  He wars against it, until it is no more.

My House

Al right, I'll admit it.  I am embarrassed about my house.  We are in a small group where we rotate meeting places.  The young couples in our home group have very beautiful, very updated homes and it condemns the living snot out of me.  We do not.  Our home is warm and comfortable, but needs alot of work.  There is the kitchen, which needs updating, including the hole in the ceiling.  The wallpaper that needs replacing in the downstairs bathroom and mudroom.  Both upstairs bathrooms need to be re-done.  We need to power wash the siding and deck.  The backyard fence needs work and the driveway needs patching.  Did I mention the  trees that need to be removed from the yard?
Our house looks like it belongs to people who can't really afford to keep it up.  Which is true.  We made the decision years ago to send our kids to private school.  We have sacrificed retirement, and cosmetic upkeep on the house to send the kids to the schools we thought best.  We make a pile of money and we spend a pile of money on tuition.
Nevertheless, I love my house.  I love Guy and Madeline's teeth marks on the windows.  I love the ESPN magazine covers glued to Tate's walls.  I love the siding cracked by a lacrosse ball.  It feels like home, because in a strange way, it reminds me of the gospel.  I covet the beautiful homes of our friends and the ones I see in magazines.  But what I really covet is a warm, beautiful home ,where I am loved and surrounded by people who love and welcome me.  I covet heaven.  Insofar as I am loved and kept warm 9528 Chatterleigh Place is great.  Beautiful, not so much. Home, yep.

Feasting

We have a bizarre relationship with food.  I don't believe that has always been true of people.  From eating disorders to 'diabesity' our culture has a love-hate relationship with food.  I think part of the reason for this, resides in our spiritual and emotional emptiness and poverty.  (After all, why would people let Jillian Michaels spew her psycho-babble in their sweaty faces on national TV). We are both spiritual and physical beings and these two aspects of our personhood interact.  If I feel emotionally empty or spiritually hungry, cheesecake may be mistaken for love.
My son Guy runs 60-90 miles a week.  Though quite skinny, no one I know eats like he does.  He epitomizes hunger for fuel.  Food really is his fuel and his body is craving calories all the time.  In the same way, we try to fuel our emotional lives often with food, or abuse of food.
We are all spiritually hungry and poor, and we all are on a search to fill that hunger.  It is no small thing that Jesus came as the 'Bread of Life'.  Soul-satisfaction resides in Him.
Which gets me to feasting...
I think most evangelicals have the wrong view of feasting.  We think fasting is spiritual and feasting is physical, maybe even sinful.  I don't think that is right.  Feasting actually is just as faithful as fasting.
When we feast in light of the gospel, the delight of flavors, the sensations of satiety bear witness to the abundance of grace that is ours.  It reminds us of heaven, when we sit at the Lord's table to be full forevermore.
Every Christmas, the Shelby's roast a standing rib roast.  we make Yorkshire pudding and we set a plum pudding on fire.  Those are very heavy foods.  We do it to proclaim to our bodies and souls that Jesus fills us with good things and that a day will come when not only our tears are wiped away, but we will be satisfied.
It tastes pretty good too.  

Dignity

One of the things I have been convicted about lately is how little I think about the dignity that all human beings were given at creation.  Created in the image of God is something that rolls off our lips so easily and yet I have been convicted that I have limited its meaning.  I tend to think of this as only having to do with moral reasoning or creativity or whatever.
What about seeing our  being created in the image of God as glory? Every one of us was made to reflect and to a degree share the glory of our creator.  The tragedy of sin is that it robs us of that glory and yes, we are complicit in that robbery.  I tend to see the wreck and not the intention of God.  Someone said that we are ruins, but noble ruins. I major on ruin, not noble.
The Incarnation is God taking what was robbed from us and Him,  back.  Jesus enters the world as a human being and as such begins the divine project of restoring the dignity that our creator intended. Simply by coming as a man, Jesus demonstrates what God in creation intended.  It is no accident that Paul calls him the second Adam.  Jesus redeems the wreck by living with dignity.  We see this not only in the cross, but also in how He treated people.  He treated everyone He met with dignity, from drunks and prostitutes, to lepers, to Scribes and Pharisees, to His own family, to the poor and destitute, to Samaritans, to widows, to little children, to fools.   
I want to begin to see my enemies, the people I despise, the people I love as dignified, not as problems to be managed, or simply corrected  but once glorious beings that Jesus can restore.
I am new to this and I am not sure how to do it, but at least pray that today as I encounter people, I would treat them with the dignity Jesus intended and is bringing about.

Liturgy

For the last two years we have shifted our worship service to a bit more liturgy.  This includes an Old Testament reading, a confession of sin and a 'words of encouragement'.  I have wondered when it would become rote and I would be bored with it.  I am, after all, easily bored.  I scared Marti on our honeymoon after a few days, when I had to go to the store and buy something to read, Readers Digest.  I still really enjoy the liturgy, and I think I know why.
I spend a lot of my time living like a character in a play, not sure who the playwright is and what the plot is.  So I busy myself with the necessaries of job, family and life, because that is always clear and what to do next is evident..  I may not have lived very much today, but at least I got the oil changed in the car, counseled a few people, prepped a sermon, bought the groceries and made it to my kid's event at school.  Not alot of reflection there and not a lot of the sense of the divine.  Not that those activities are bad, they are not.  It is just that my awareness of myself, awareness of Jesus and  the Spirit is often lacking.
I believe it is lacking because I am not sure who I am and where I fit, particularly in God's drama.
Every Sunday, though, through words and song and prayer, I am reminded that I am a part of the play of redemption.  I and all creation is hopelessly wrecked, The triune God sees that and moved by love,compassion, mercy and righteous indignation, moves to my and creation's salvation.  The Father sends and gives the Son, the Son submits,lives and dies and the Spirit convicts, guides and impresses upon me that I belong in the family of God.   
Speaking and hearing that God is worthy of my worship, that I can't because of my sin, that Jesus has made a way and is the Way and that the Spirit now empowers me to follow, is the drama of the universe, of the eternal.  At least once a week I see and I believe.
Not very profound, I know, but life-giving. 
So Yea liturgy!  Keep reminding me of the Divine Drama that I am a tiny part of.

Pressure

I love the Advent season.  The church gets decorated and looks quite beautiful.  I enjoy the parties.  I like Advent readings.  I like listening to Handel's Messiah.  The feasting isn't so bad either.  I like poinsettias too. I really enjoy going to the grocery store this time of year.  It feels like a big party.
Two things about this time of year I do not like.  Both of these have to do with my job.
First, folks really struggle with their families this time of year.  Lots of pressure, conflict, unmet expectations and bad memories.  How to navigate these family gatherings is a very big deal, especially if you throw in a little alcohol. We really need a lot of grace this time of year to deal with all of that.  My appointment calendar is full of folks needing to talk and pray through these issues. This side of glory, some of them will never get fully resolved.
Second, more than anytime except Easter Sunday, I feel great pressure to perform in my public ministry.  I think people come to the services with expectations to feel something or experience something unusual.  They want to feel loved and warmed and reassured that everything will be OK.  Alot of this has to do, I think, with memories of childhood.  They remember,   even if subconsciously something wonderful from their childhood and they want that same experience.  Or they have impossible expectations.
Some folks really grieve this time of year because they miss people they love.  Some people feel their singleness (thanks jewelry commercials) in profound ways. Some people have idealized expectations that go unmet.  This is especially hard when we hear 'tidings of great joy', 'peace on earth, goodwill to men', and it seems like we missed it.  We just feel sad and  anxious ; it seems our lives suck, while everyone else is having a great time. 
I remember driving to NC on Christmas morning in 1989.  We had lost our first born in September.  We had anticipated this being a joyful Christmas.  We were listening to Christmas music and we just wept and wept.

So... we come to church and have the expectation that something great will happen.  Why do you think there are all those myths about Christmas miracles?  Bells ringing totally on their own, healings, angelic appearances to desperate people. etc.
The truth is everything is going to be better than OK.  Jesus came. 

"no more let sin and sorrow grow, nor thorns infest the ground.  He comes to make His blessings flow, far as the curse is found..."

However, before this is fully realized babies will be slaughtered in Bethlehem, the holy family will sojourn in Egypt.  A sword will pierce Mary's soul and the baby will grow up and die as a rejected Messiah upon a cross.

And yet, He rose.

Here is the rub.  No Christmas celebration will bring heaven to us.  We still live in a fallen and broken place.  But we celebrate the promise that because Jesus came, renewal is happening and coming.  Our celebration is not of final joy, but the joy of a hope that will never fail and is coming in its fullness.

So one day, I will feel better.  I will be resolved with my family.  All my needs will will more than be met and I will know love like never before.
So  pray for me, that I will not give in to the pressure. That I would faithfully point people a real hope, that the gospel would be clear to me and not cluttered by the trappings of the Season

Atonement

We watched one of those sappy, feel-good, Hallmark Christmas shows last night.  It starred Sam Elliot, one of my favorite character actors.  It was a story about redemption.  Through a little girl's cancer, a number of relationships were put back together and a little hope got passed around.  It was a fine story.  However, there was a sub-plot that I found more interesting.
Sam Elliot and another old guy had apparently been estranged for years.  We find out that Sam lost his 13 year-old son in a car accident and his best friend (the other old guy) lost his wife to cancer.  Sam, still grieving the loss of his son was unable to be a real friend to his friend, when his wife died.
At one point, Sam asked his friend to forgive him.  And thus the most powerful point in the movie.
Why?
Well, there was a transaction in the cab of a pick-up truck, where one person acknowledged wrongdoing and another was willing to fore-go continuing to be cold toward his old friend.
It makes me think, that atonement is the crying need of the human heart.  Somehow or other, sin and suffering must be addressed.  That is the genius of the Gospel.
There is a transaction where one who has been wronged, takes to himself the pain of the wrongdoing, absorbing the consequences of another's sin and restoring relationship.
Hallmark did not make this very clear, but it was what struck me. And it was very satisfying, even relieving in a graceful sort of way.
More than anything else, I need my sin and it's consequent brokenness atoned for.  I cannot fully do this either regarding my relationship with my creator or my circle of relationships.
Real satisfaction both for my sin and in spite of my sin are only possible if that sin is atoned for.  Perhaps the reason I am so often dissatisfied with my relationships has to do with my lack of appreciation for the real atonement that must be made, has been made.

NEW!

I'm big on new.  Though not particularly bent on consumerism, I like new stuff.  For 27 years I have resisted the very idea of buying a leaf-blower.  Well... come by the house on Saturday morning and I will introduce you to my newest little friend.  I have been looking forward to the weekend when I will break out my suburban lawn debris mover. Why such a craving for the new?
Well, for one thing it wards off boredom.
I think we also believe the lie that new is improved and better than what went before.  Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't.  New Coke.
All this is to say, that this hunger for new makes my job very difficult.  The newest thing to talk about in my line of work happened 2000 years ago. Most of the people I preach to every week, know the story or text before I read it.  They know the hymns, they know the liturgy and they know all my sweaters!  I need a new one!
However,  I do think there is something about this new stuff that is really helpful and healthful.  Though I don't need a new Bible or a new theology, I do need a new and fresh understanding and appreciation for  what I already know.  I need it to touch me.  I need it to matter.  I need it to spur on my thinking and my feeling.  It feels like life, because it is.  Refreshing comes not from something new but something old that is fresh and clear and delightful.  It is like seeing something on your route to work that has been there for years, but this morning you noticed it for the first time.
So.. here are a few ways in my study I try to cultivate this.
First I read people who I don't agree with, simply because they use my vocabulary in a new way.  I read some blogs and books that are well-done but not not always Reformed, covenantal and confessional.  They help me experience the old truth in new and challenging ways.  Kate Braestrup and Daniel Kirk help me alot.
Second, I open myself up to the possibility that though 51 and a Christian a long time, I am just beginning.   I need to keep learning.
Third, I need to be around more young people and kids.  They help me re-discover joy.
Well.. that's all I have now, but I plan to write on this some more, when I have something new to say....

Parenting

All I can say is that no one told me how vulnerable having a child makes one feel.  From the first time, we saw the positive pregnancy test to this day, I feel weak,vulnerable and challenged.  Perhaps if we viewed our kids as projects (which is the way most parenting experts view them) it would be easier.
They are flesh and blood.  They breathe and walk and talk.  They bleed and cut.  They break and are broken.  Me, too.

We move in love toward them over and over, their response is beyond my control.

I think of the Father in the Prodigal Son (not talking theology here, just impressions).  He loves his boys.  He gets his heart broken by both of them.  One is a profligate jerk, the other a rigid, legalistic, self-righteous, selfish jerk ( can you tell which one I like?)   The Father yearns in love for blessing and joy and fellowship with and between his boys.  He looks for them and his heart goes out to them,  whether they are in the far country or standing at the door refusing to enter the celebration.
What did He do wrong?  What books should He have read?  What seminars attended?

All I can do is look at and for my kids.  I can love them.  And that is often terrifying.

Cross Country

Today at 2:30 I will watch Guy run for the state championship in cross country.  He is a long shot to win, but nevertheless has a tiny shot at winning the individual championship and a very good shot at the team championship.
A word about scoring....
Cross country (contrary to all appearances) is the quintessential team sport.  Seven runners from each team compete over a 3.1 mile course.  Points are allotted based on how one finishes.  Basically you need to get your first five runners in before the other teams do.  First place = 1, Second=2 etc.  The team with the lowest total wins.
He had a terrible race last week finishing 2nd in his league meet to a boy ( a great kid by the way) he had beaten twice before this season.
I am very anxious for him.  He has worked so hard and in fact a huge focus of his life since June has been prepping for this day.  He has won a number of races this year, however, that means nothing if today is a bad day.
He believes Jesus made him to be a runner and he believes that praying helps him trust Jesus and his training in the heat of racing.  This matters a lot to him.
I am so proud of his work (some weeks he ran over 90 miles).  I am so proud of how he has led his team.  But most of all, I am proud of how he has modelled Jesus as he has cared for his teammates.
If you see this, pray for him.... and me.

Cholesterol

Apparently (thanks Mom) I have it.  My hdl is really good, my triglycerides are really good and my ldl is really bad.  Otherwise I am terribly healthy for a 51 year old.  So, I've been thinking... what if I did not know this?  What if I lived in a time or place where no one told me of the lurking problem in my blood and arteries?

I think this is quite interesting.  Would I just fall over one day with a massive coronary or what?  I probably will anyway, at least now, I have some warning!

I called Marti when I got the results and told her I was dying, which is true for me and for you, dear reader. 

So....

Everyone of us is a ticking time bomb of mortality.  Not to be morbid or anything, it simply is.  which actually means for me, that every second that passes, I'm closer to glory. 

I like it here mind you, and another 30 years would be great.  What is after is better.

Politics

I'll admit it.  I love politics.  It has been a lot of fun to keep up with the election season.  I occasionally look at the New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and the Richmond paper.
My own political philosophy is somewhat libertarian.  I basically want to be left alone, except by my friends, family and Church.
The marvelous thing to me is how religious this political stuff ends up being.  The words that get used are reminiscent of what we say in church and the themes are very similar.  Freedom, Choice, Equality, Human Rights etc.
My problem is that we do not seem to make much progress.  For example, we are in debt, we still abort a lot of babies, we are still at war and we have a lousy post office.
So.. most of my political choices seem to boil down to the lesser of two evils.  Which is not all that bad.  I am glad I have a choice and I am glad there is a tiny sliver of accountability in our system.
However, the Republicans, the Tea Party and the Dems cannot save me or the culture.  Now, they certainly can make things a lot worse, but in the end I believe people are basically sinful.  Government's role is to restrain evil, protect us and  leave us alone.  But, it cannot change a man or woman from the inside out.  Public policy never made someone more holy.
Only Jesus.  We should press for righteousness in our culture, but no one party has the corner on that.  Only Jesus.
Trust me, if we as Christians align ourselves with one politician or party, they will use us for their ends and discard us in the end.  Not Jesus.
Also, random question.
So, before the income tax, how much did the average American interact with or deal with the Federal Government?  It seems like you could do a lot of living back then and never really be affected by Washington at all.

Tate

Nineteen years ago this morning, Marti called me at the office and asked if I thought this day would be a good day to have a baby.  Sure enough, later that evening Tate Bradford Shelby arrived. 

Tate was largely unexpected.  We had suffered months, even years of infertility and the loss of a baby boy at 37 weeks.  So, you can imagine our delight.  We swore we would be tough on him and raise him to be disciplined and not rowdy  and disrespectful like everybody else's kids.  We brought him home and his first evening with us he cried and cried until we (GASP) put him in the bed with us and he slept four hours straight.  I guess he just wanted to be with us.  Social, that one. He likes being with his peeps.

He came with a few problems that required a three hour surgery when he was 11 months.  He was sick alot and we worried that he was not gaining enough weight.  So... we gave him protein shakes.

Early on, he liked puzzles, Thomas the Tank Engine and books.  He has always loved stories.  His first movie was The Lion King.

He has always loved lacrosse and sports.  He knows more stats, facts and figures than anyone I know.  His dream job would be at ESPN.   He is fiercely loyal, generous  and an award-winning potter and an International Baccalaureate Diploma recipient.

But there are two things today, I want to call out about my dear boy.

1.  I have never seen a kid so unafraid to be affectionate with his mother.  Saturday morning, in front of the Souljah Army, his Powder Puff football team he coaches with some other guys, at Tech, he greeted his mother with an embrace and a kiss on the cheek.   Now, he and his Mom have had their share of conflicts, but he cares for her and that makes his Dad really glad.

2.  He gets the Gospel in ways I never did until I was much older.  While sitting in his room, he asked me to listen to music from his computer.  "Dad, listen to this", he said.

It seems that all my bridges have been burned,
But you say, "that's exactly how this grace thing works",
It's not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive with every start.

"Those are some great lines", he said.  "Mom, these guys sing the f-word in some of their songs, but its OK they're British".  (To Marti, only murder is worse than uttering the f-word).

So...
Tatie, you have made all our lives so much richer.  What a gift your life has to been to us.  Have a great day and only smoke one cigar!








  

Writing

So.. 
In the past couple of months a number of friends have asked me about writing a book.  Being wholly undisciplined and disorganized, I thought I would start here.  If I can 'blog' then maybe someday, I can write. 
I meet a lot of interesting people in my line of work, so I do have a few stories to tell.  Being a pastor affords me the opportunity to see people at their best and their worst, their happiest and their lowest, not unlike marriage vows: in sickness and in health, joy or sorrow, plenty and want, life and death.  My life is so much the richer for the tears and prayers, laughs and beers I have shared with the people Jesus has given me to love and shepherd.  
A word about the title...
I will turn 51 in a few days.  In a few more days I will see my doctor for the usual probings and discussion of risk factors.  My oldest is in college, the middle a junior in high school and the baby, she is a freshman.  I've been married to the same remarkable woman for 27+ years.  I have been in ministry 24 years, pastor here for 17.  I am  one of those middle-aged white guys your mother warned you about, balding, pudgy and a little gray around the edges.  I love being in the stage I am in.  So.. welcome to the Sweet Middle of Steve's life.
I plan to tell stories, rant, and on rare occasion reflect.  I promise never to share anything best kept confidential  and I hope you will get to know me better, yourself and ultimately my savior.

Later