A Prophetic Voice in an Unexpected Place

I heard one of the more prophetic voices I have heard in a long time on Sunday night. The prophetic message came not from a preacher or even a television evangelist (smile). The prophetic voice came from a musician at the Birchmere in Alexandria, VA.

Apparently I had heard Catie Curtis' music before, as Craig took me to the concert as a big surprise after hearing my response to her CD playing in the car. However, I did not know much about her music until she started singing. And, I found myself saying, "Amen" more than once during the concert.

It is clear that Catie has been pushed aside by many people in her life. She is quick to tell you about how hard it is to be the mother of two children when the other parent is not a father. She is also quick to tell you about how many times her lifestyle has been judged. Catie has a remarkable take on the pain in this world -- pain caused by politicians who wear the label "Christian" and from countless people in the church. And, Catie spoke to me. She spoke directly to my heart.

She spoke so loudly that I wanted to shout out loud when I got an invitation to stand in line this Saturday morning for tickets to the lighting of the White House Christmas tree. I have stood in line before. There have been times in my life when I would wait in line for hours to be in the presence of a President. I used to give hours of my time volunteering on the White House Advance team. But something struck a chord with me when the friend's email arrived yesterday.

Too many times last week I opened my Washington Post to a picture of another young widow being presented with an American flag at Arlington cemetery -- an incredible token, for sure, but one that cannot possibly take the place of a life lost too soon.

We are now preparing for an All Saints Day Vigil at our church. On Wednesday evening we will read the name of every single member of the coalition forces who has died in Iraq -- over 3000 names. Meanwhile, I keep reading arguments about just how many Iraqis have died. No one seems to want to admit the truth.

There may be a warm, fuzzy feeling emulated on the lawn of the White House when the Christmas tree is lit in a few weeks but there is certainly not much peace on this earth.

God, please let there be peace on earth.


Following are the lyrics to one of Catie's songs that spoke to me:

People Look Around
Written by Catie Curtis and Mark Erelli

Mississippi River divides this land in two,
Like the way we tend to think of things;
Black and white, red and blue.
If they can keep us fighting about marriage and God,
There will be no one left to notice if the leaders do their jobs.
And the truth is bigger than these drops of rain, falling.
The truth is bigger than these drops of rain,
Falling in the ocean, falling...
When the water is rising and there is no higher ground,
You can wave your hands up on the roof,
But you might be left to drown.
In the streets of New Orleans;
a makeshift funeral pall,
Here lies Vera, God help us all.
And the truth is bigger than these drops of rain, falling.
The truth is bigger than these drops of rain,
Falling in the ocean, falling...
Jesus said, "Feed the hungry,"
Jesus said "Help the poor,"
"Take care of each other love one another,"
People look around.We let them down.
Mississippi River flooded New Orleans,
And we stared in disbelief at our TV screens,
If they can keep us fighting another endless war,
How many tears before the truth cannot be ignored?
And the truth is bigger than these drops of rain, falling.
The truth is bigger than these drops of rain,
Falling in Lake Pontchartrain.
Falling in the ocean, falling...

The Little Boy from Birmingham

Yesterday was an amazing day as I spent the afternoon visiting some of our members who are now in nursing homes. One of our newest members, Eddie, went with me.

Eddie is someone in whose words and actions I often hear and see the living God. Yesterday was no different.

Our first stop was a visit with a woman who has recently had to trade an independent life in her own home for a dependent life in a nursing facility. The change has not been easy. She misses the food she used to eat, the home she helped to build, and her neighbors. She wants badly to go home, and she is depressed.

Eddie was amazing with her, however. He was the "wounded healer" who was able to minister to her in a powerful way. He listened carefully to her words of sadness and complaint. He wished her joy when she spoke of darkness. He reminded her of how precious life is when she said she simply wanted to die.

When we got in the car, Eddie said, "Pastor Donna, we have to go back there soon. We need to spend an entire afternoon with her. We need to get her out of her bed and into a place where she can simply feel the sun on her face. We need to make time to go and listen to her -- listen for several hours." He continued to explain how he knows exactly how she is feeling because he has been placed in a hospital when he did not want to be there. He knows what it is like to have "people caring for you who don't really care about anything but getting paid." He knows what it is like to need only a little sunlight on your face. And, most importantly, he knows how hard it is to find someone who will spend time doing nothing else but listening.

Eddie taught me more about pastoral care yesterday than any course or textbook has ever taught me. He taught me much about how it is not the big things that matter -- but the ordinary things -- the things that are so extraordinary in today's world.

Eddie then made me laugh for hours. On our final stop we sang to a church member living in nursing home -- a church member who does not remember a lot but who can sing every word to "Jesus Loves Me." And when we got into the car we kept singing different songs.

Eddie is not from the United States, and English is not his first language. Chinese is the language he most readily speaks and writes. Yesterday, he requested a song saying, "Pastor Donna, do you know the words to 'The Little Boy from Birmingham?'" I responded by asking if he meant Birmingham, Alabama. He responded with an emphatic, "no." And, I soon realized that the song he was requesting was not about a boy in Birmingham but rather about a "child in Bethlehem!"

I cannot believe I actually get paid to do my job. What an extraordinary privilege I have been given.

Temperature Changes

I recently wrote an article for the Duke Divinity School alumni magazine. The article is about one of my favorite times of the week -- our Wednesday Bible study group. It is a group filled with many of the church's longest serving members, many of whom are in their 80s and 90s.

This group demonstrated its incredible commitment and tenacity to me once again this week when they arrived to study the Bible in a church with no heat.


The gas was turned off a couple of months ago in preparation for our upcoming renovation project. We were supposed to be out of the church completely by the first of October -- before the cold temperatures arrived. However, a few things have been delayed, included the arrival of our office trailer.


Still, the people come, and they keep coming! On Wednesday, we kept our coats on while we read. We drank warm coffee. We ate breakfast breads. We experienced the incredible warmth of community. And, we were reminded again of how much we take for granted.

We have choices when it comes to being able to step inside from the cold -- choices that many of our neighbors do not have -- children of God who live all around us -- sleeping and gathering on the church's lawn and nearby parks throughout the cold winter months. We can get in our cars and turn the heat on. We can go home to our houses or apartments and turn the furnace on. We can get into a bed and cover our bodies with many blankets. Others, however, are relegated to a few boxes and whatever else they can find to cover their bodies through the night.

The gas man returned on Thursday to turn the gas back on at the church. The heat is flowing from the radiators throughout the sanctuary building. And, all are welcome to step inside and enjoy the warmth when Sunday arrives. I can almost guarantee you that warmth will flow not only from the radiators, but also from these amazing people who continue to allow me to bask in the light and the warmth of God whenever I am in their presence.

Counting the Hours at the Courthouse

I spent a good part of yesterday morning at Judiciary Square. It is no secret that people living in the District of Columbia get called for jury duty often. I suppose I am lucky that I made it for almost a year and a half without being called to report to the courthouse for jury duty. And, it is true that I complained to myself on the Metro ride to the courthouse, while standing in line to check in once I arrived, and while sitting in the jurors' lounge while waiting to be called.

You see a myriad of people at the courthouse. There were hundreds of people just like me -- people wearing coats with a tag attached labeling them as a potential juror. There were many attorney types who wheeled around briefcases filled with folders. There were other individuals who appeared rather worried, labeling them as the one whose fate would be placed in the hands of the potential jurors who filled the lounge at the end of the hallway.

I was also amazed to see what people were reading as they waited for their name to be called. Plenty of people had Monday's edition of The Washington Post with them. Others had magazines. Some had nothing. And one woman had a book called, "God Don't Like Ugly."

When I saw the book, I concluded that the woman was brilliant. After all, what judge or attorney could see this book and want the person reading it to be on the jury? Often times, it is an ugly side of a person who sits on the side of both plaintiff and defendant. There are plenty of plaintiffs in court out of sheer greed. There are plenty of defendants in court for the same reason. Our ugliness can get us in court for dozens of different reasons. And, God don't like ugly.

I did not have a book with such a title to take with me when I was called to approach the bench. I approached it, instead, with a simple greeting, "Good Morning." One of the attorneys then asked, "So you are a pastor?" The judge followed by asking where I served only to tell me that he had seen different shows in my church's theatre. No one wanted a pastor on the jury, I soon learned, as I was the second person dismissed out of the pool of potential jurors.

And still, I learned something yesterday. The judge explained everything to the potential jurors as if we had never been in a courtroom before. He told us about how long we could anticipate serving as a juror. He explained the "hush" button, a button that, when pushed, makes a lot of sound so as to "hush" the voices from the ears of potential jurors. He shared how 8 people would be chosen to sit on the jury, and he went through the process of selection. He also shared details of the case.

No one in the court room was made to feel like an outsider. Rather, everything was explained until it made sense to everyone -- to those who had served as a juror several times before and to those who had never been in a court room before.

How many times do we take time to make sure everyone feels welcome in our churches? How many times do we explain what we are doing throughout the service to everyone -- to those who are worshipping for the first time and to those who have been coming to church for over 80 years? Do we make everyone feel welcome by sharing what we are doing, what will come next, what the desired outcome will be, and how long we are expected to be there?

The judge made me appreciate him and his profession almost immediately. He made me appreciate the fact that jury duty is not just a duty but also a huge responsibility. He made me stop complaining and instead made me be willing to serve -- no matter how much I did not want to be there.

And the judge taught me more than about being a juror. He reminded me of the teaching work we have to do in the church, too.

And they're off!

One of the joys of embarking upon a massive renovation and building project is being able to give away many items that will no longer be needed in the new church once it is finished. The congregation at Mount Vernon Place has given away air conditioners and kitchenettes, toys and dishes, chairs and Bibles in the last several months. And yesterday, one of the most meaningful contributions was loaded onto a truck in route to Ocean Springs, Mississippi.

One of the buildings about to be demolished at Mount Vernon Place has a lovely chapel in it. The Shure Chapel was dedicated in memory of a long-serving, beloved Minister of Music, Dean Shure. It is a beautiful space with stained-glass windows, pretty pews, and deep blue carpet. The space was used weekly by the Chinese Community Church's Cantonese and mandarin speaking services until August of this year. It was the site of many weddings in the 50s and 60s. It is a beloved space -- so much that many of our members wanted to pick it up and transport it directly into the new building once it is finished in 2009.

This summer, however, the congregation of Mount Vernon Place discerned that there were other congregations that could use the belongings in the chapel right now. Many of these churches are along the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, the region that was hit hard by Hurricane Katrina. And one of these churches will receive a shipment later this week of pews, a piano, an altar, a baptismal font, kneeling pads, and Bibles.

The things were picked up yesterday by a large Mayflower truck driven by a woman named Elizabeth. Our friends from Federal Moving and Storage donated their time to load the items into the truck -- a task that started at 8:00 yesterday morning and ended at 4:30 yesterday afternoon. And, members of Mount Vernon Place have given generous gifts to pay for the trucking costs.

It is our hope and our prayer that the people of St. James United Methodist Church in Ocean Springs, Mississippi will be as excited to receive these items as we are about giving them. It is our hope and our prayer that these items will be another sign of God's presence in the aftermath of a storm.

What a joy it is to give!

A Glimpse

Today was stewardship Sunday at Mount Vernon Place. Today is the day annually set aside for members to ponder anew how they can support the church in the coming year with their prayers, their presence, their gifts and their service. Ordinarily, stewardship Sunday is not one of the favorite Sundays of the year. Many people loathe for the pastor to talk about money, concluding that the pastor has no business meddling in one's financial business.

But, today was an amazing day! The choir sang beautifully, offering an incredible anthem based on the Sermon on the Mount. The children's message went off without a hitch as the children responded to the message as if they had cue cards. And, the sermon was well received (at least that is what the people told me as they left the worship space)! But the best part of today was the potluck lunch that followed the worship service.

We gathered for lunch together, recognizing that it may be one of the last times we'll be able to sit down as a congregation in our current building until the construction project is finished in December of 2007. We gathered in order to talk about the new ministry team structure being proposed for 2007. We also gathered to see new artist renderings of different rooms in the building to be built. And something happened when we gathered.

When we gathered, I caught a glimpse of the community described in Acts 2. Most people brought something to the meal, but many others did not. Still, everything was shared. Everyone was fed -- even a man and his two children visiting from New York City -- a family who found the church in the Yellow Pages. No one was sent away hungry. We gathered together as people of all ages and backgrounds in order to break bread together. People ate their food with glad and generous hearts. And, we praised God for what God is doing in the midst of our community -- for providing a more intimate worship space while we rebuild, for our new members who joined the church two weeks ago, for the incredible space that is about to be built, and for the gift of simply being together.

It was a glad and joyous day. If we have a few more days like today, then I am quite confident that the Lord will also add to our number, just as the Lord added to the congregation in Acts 2.

What a joyous day!

It's me, it's me, it's me, O Lord...

Do you remember the song we used to sing as little kids? The song with the lyrics, "It's me, it's me, it's me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer. Not my father, nor my sister but it's me O Lord, standing in the need of prayer." We typically would sing this song right after we sang the lyrics to "Jesus Loves Me." We used to sing these songs a lot, in the middle of Sunday school or at some point in summer Bible School. I wonder why we stop singing these songs as adults? Why are these songs sung most often by children and not by adults?

Since Mount Vernon Place is located in the center of a major city, we often have people who come in the doors in order to request something from the church -- a few dollars for the Metro, some money for food, or directions to the nearest shelter. Yesterday, a young man walked into the doors with a simple request, "I need some prayer." I met him at the door, and he immediately began to share with me how he had recently been "down and out" with no job and two kids to care for. However, God has answered his prayer as he has just found a job. He now needs to be able to get to his job. He then said, "My only request is for you to pray that I will be able to get back and forth from work this week." He did not ask me for money for the Metro or fare for the bus. Instead, he said he knew that God would provide for his needs and said, "Will you please pray for me?"

It's been a long time since I have walked up to anyone and said, "Will you please pray for me?" More often than not it seems as though I rely upon my own ability to get me to and from work, to keep my body healthy, and to keep food on my table. I often forget that all of these needs are met not through anything that I do but rather through the resources that God has entrusted to my care. Too often, I turn towards my own strength and ability to meet my needs instead of saying, "I know that God will provide." I take so much for granted.

This young man reminded me of a lot I learned as a child. He reminded me that all that we have is a gift from God. He also reminded me that no matter what our needs are, that we should ask the Lord to supply them. He very poignantly claimed that God would provide his needs.

I took the man's hands yesterday, and we prayed together. It was a simple but powerful prayer -- the kind of prayer where you can feel God coming close in order to listen. And, there is no doubt in my mind that this man made it to work today...through the grace of God. I also made it to work today...through the grace of God.

At Mount Vernon Place, we are trying to create an authentic Christian community where all are welcome. We are trying to create a place where we can bring our deepest sorrows and are abundant joys. We are trying to create a place where anyone can come...just as they are. I yearn for a place where anyone can walk in and say, "I just need a little prayer," and be greeted by people who are prepared to pray, trusting that God really does supply our every need.

It's me, it's me, it's me, O Lord, standing in the need of prayer.

Taking the Bus

I took the bus to work on Thursday morning. It is true that taking the Metro is so much easier. I live less than two blocks from the Columbia Heights Metro stop, and the church is only about three blocks from the Mount Vernon Square Metro stop. Taking the Metro is quick and easy. Taking the bus is a different story.

The bus can take twice as long as the Metro. The bus drops me five blocks from the church instead of three. The bus forces me to practice my balance as I have to stand up as it starts and stops during rush hour traffic. Still, I took the bus. I took the bus because I always learn something on the bus.

The bus reminds me of the rich diversity of Washington as it moves from the upper parts of 14th Street to downtown Washington. The bus forces my eyes to gaze upon things that I could easily avoid if I were below ground on the Metro -- like the incredible children who play at a ministry called Martha's Table, making me question why so many children have more than they could ever use while these children have so little. The bus forces me to see how so much of our city is still divided by the lines of color as not very many white people step on board until the bus gets closer to downtown. The bus forces me to see the homeless -- people who are not allowed to dwell inside Metro stops, motivating me to examine what all I have. And while the journey on the bus takes twice as long as it takes for the Metro to arrive at my final destination, I am almost always glad that I chose to take the bus.

Scripture shows us how Jesus rarely took a direct route. More often than not, Jesus took the long way to wherever he was going. He went into villages that he could have easily avoided. He took the one lane roads instead of the multi lane interstate. And it is by taking the road less traveled, the less efficient route, that Jesus saw the people who needed to be touched by his love and told about a different kind of kingdom.

I'll see you on the bus.

Looking Like the Church

On Friday night, several people from Mount Vernon Place went to see the Washington Nationals play the New York Mets at RFK Stadium. The invitation to attend the game was extended to all young adults and those who are "young at heart" at the church, and we ended up with 18 people in attendance, including several guests. One of the "visitors" looked at the group and said, "Your church looks like the church." When I looked a little perplexed by her statement she continued to explain, "Donna, look at how many different people are here tonight. You have four different ethnicities represented in this group. You have different ages. You have different economic backgrounds. Your church looks like the church."

Our guest noticed one of the many things I really love about Mount Vernon Place. When I was in seminary we spent a lot of time talking about diversity but all of the churches I have ever been a part of have had a hard time achieving this diversity within the congregation.

Mount Vernon Place is different, however. At Mount Vernon Place there is an extraordinarily rich diversity of people from places around the globe. There are many different skin colors and many different stories. There are several people in their 90s and a new, seven-week-old baby. There are some people who have a lot and there are other people who have very little. There are several sinners and a few saints. There are some who are quick to believe and others who are quick to doubt. Yet all these people find a place to call home in our community of faith.

And it is my hope and prayer that the church's makeup will grow even more diverse in the years to come. It is my hope and prayer that the church will continue to be a place where all are welcome -- no matter what you look like or act like, no matter where you live or have lived, no matter what you have or what you don't have, no matter what you have done or are doing. After all, I, too, love a church that looks like the church.

"I LOVE it!"

I went to a Pampered Chef party on Saturday afternoon. The event was actually a bridal shower for my friend, Jenni, who is getting married next weekend. I have been to a Pampered Chef party before. I love their products and have received several of them as Christmas presents from my mom. The one thing about Pampered Chef is that the company has quite a following. The company has won the hearts and affection of several satisfied customers.

This fact was quite evident on Saturday afternoon when we played a little "game." While the Pampered Chef person was cooking, demonstrating different products to us, we were to shout, "I love it," if she used a product that we own. Not one product was used without someone at the party saying, "I love it!." One person had the pizza stone. Another had the handy measuring cup. Still another had the knife and the food chopper and the crinkle cutter and so on. And each time someone shouted, "I love it," there was another person in the room who was eager to buy the product so she, too, could have another item in the kitchen to love -- another gadget in the kitchen to make her life easier.

As Christians we profess that one of the things we love is Jesus. We profess that Jesus makes all the difference in our lives -- that he eases our burdens, that he makes life easier, that he brings joy, that he shows us a new way, that he offers grace, that we love him. Still, it is true that I rarely see the overwhelming endorsement of Jesus in the way I saw people endorse Pampered Chef on Saturday afternoon.

What would it look like if our churches were filled with signs that we LOVE being in worship? That we LOVE serving our neighbors. That we LOVE being in a community where all are welcome and accepted just as they are. That we LOVE knowing that we are forgiven. That we LOVE hearing how Jesus inaugurated a new kingdom. That we LOVE singing songs of praise. That we LOVE Jesus!

Pampered Chef's advertising slogan is "Discover the chef in you." At church, you can "discover the Christ in you."

I LOVE IT!

One Barrier Down...

A barrier has been removed this week. The gate blocking one of the entrances to the church has been taken down. Look at how different things look as a result of this change:

Dear God, help us to continue to remove whatever barriers exist between your church and your children -- all of your children. Help us to not pass you by when we see someone who is hungry, someone who is hurting, someone who is lost, someone who has no place to lay his head, someone who is in need of your love. Amen.

A Prayer for this Day

I included as part of my devotional time this morning a prayer book by Ted Loder called, "Guerrillas of Grace." A particular prayer titled, "It Would Be Easier to Pray if I Were Clear," has certainly spoken to my heart on this day:

O Eternal One,

it would be easier for me to pray

if I were clear

and of a single mind and a pure heart;

if I could be done hiding from myself

and from you, even in my prayers.

But I am who I am,

mixture of motives and excuses,

blur of memories,

quiver of hopes,

knot of fear,

tangle of confusion,

and restless for love,

for love.

I wander somewhere between gratitude and grievance,

wonder and routine,

high resolve and undone dreams,

generous impulses and unpaid bills.

Come, find me, Lord.

Be with me exactly as I am.

Help me find me, Lord.

Help me accept what I am,

so I can begin to be yours.

Make of me something small enough to snuggle,

young enough to question,

simple enough to giggle,

old enough to forget,

foolish enough to act for peace;

skeptical enough to doubt

the sufficiency of anything but you,

and attentive enough to listen

as you call me out of the tomb of my timidity

into the chancy glory of my possibilities

and the power of your presence.

Small enough to snuggle, young enough to question, simple enough to giggle, old enough to forget, foolish enough to act for peace. I love these words!

Amen?
Amen!!

Breaking Down the Barriers

As we get closer to the scheduled demolition of two of our buildings at Mount Vernon Place, there are new signs and walls emerging all throughout the church. When I returned today after being gone a few days I was greeted with several new signs on the doors and a new wall that separates one part of the church from another part.


The wall is not very attractive right now -- but it gets the job done as it definitely keeps people out of the restricted areas that will soon be demolished.

The message on the signs is quite clear. They quickly tell people inside the building where they are and are not to be within the walls of the church. I got the point rather quickly when I walked into the church today. I felt very unwelcome. The signs and the wall stuck out at me like a sore thumb...and I belong here. I know what is happening and why the signs exist.

All of this made me think about other barriers at the church. One of them is a horrible, metal gate that blocks one of the entrances to the church. It is an eyesore -- one that sends the message that people are not welcome on our porch or that we are afraid that someone might get inside who is not welcome inside. The barrier is one that I used to be able to ignore a little easier since we never used these doors. However, these doors are now the main entrance to our offices, and I have to walk through the gates each day. I have learned how hard it is to welcome people inside when the gates do not open all the way. The gates will thankfully be coming down very soon as part of the renovation project, and they will not be replaced when the work is over. The barrier will be broken down.

But what are the other barriers that exist at the church? Someone recently asked me how new people could possibly feel welcome inside such a large, stately structure. I have thought a lot about her question.

I also wonder about the other barriers we have created between those inside the church and those outside the church. If everyone inside the church is dressed in their Sunday best then how will those who prefer shorts and jeans feel? If everyone inside knows the routine -- why we say certain things or recite a prayer called, "The Lord's Prayer," then will the person who is new to the liturgy feel comfortable? If everyone is old then will the young person feel a sense of community? If everyone seems to have it all together then how will the person feel who is filled with guilt from the events of the weekend?

We're talking a lot at Mount Vernon Place about what it means to be the church -- about what it means to be the kind of place where all people are welcome. I pray that the barriers we have grown accustomed to will start shining in a different light so that we can see them, address them and remove them. I pray that all people -- every single person who visits our church -- really will feel welcome at Mount Vernon Place -- that we will be a church for all of God's children.

In the meantime, we have some barriers to break down.

Purple Showers

I am in Florida this week, enjoying a few days of vacation in Sarasota. The friends with whom I am staying have this amazing plant by the pool -- a "purple showers" plant. Each morning the plant is covered in perfect purple blossoms. The problem is that the flowers only last one day. The plant is covered with flowers throughout the day but the flowers all fall off at night. You get to enjoy the beauty during the day, but the plant becomes pretty much like every other plant at night. And yet, beauty comes again in the morning. New flowers appear each morning.

God, help me not to miss the purple showers in my life. May the blossoms of beauty linger a little longer so all can catch a glimpse of your grace.

Election Day

It's election day, and I am eagerly waiting for the returns to find out who will be the new mayor of Washington. It is my first election day in D.C. since moving back to the city last summer, and I have been amazed at the amount of campaigning taking place all over the city.

There are signs and people everywhere! In fact, it has been hard to go anywhere today without seeing dozens of signs, especially outside of each polling place. It has been impossible to walk along the street without being handed a piece of campaign literature. Everyone wants my vote. Everyone wants to tell me why they should be elected mayor, or city council chair, or something else.

Many promises have been made to the city of Washington in recent weeks. Adrian Fenty has promised one thing. Linda Cropp has promised another thing. It does not matter what the promise is -- affordable housing, stronger schools, lower taxes, less crime -- many of these promises will be nearly impossible to keep once a person is in office. The promises are enough to get someone elected -- but the promises are not always enough to get someone re-elected.

Several of the polling places I have passed today are in churches, making the lawn of the church look rather full -- not with people -- but with a myriad of colorful signs. Each sign has a name on it. Some of the signs will be noticed when people walk in to vote, while many other signs will be ignored. Still, each sign represents a commitment -- a person who has promised to provide leadership in this city for the next few years.

Thankfully, there are other 'signs' at the church that point to promises that will never be broken. The sign of the cross proclaims more promises than any political candidate could ever make or deliver. The cross promises that someone will make sense out of the mess in which we find ourselves. The cross promises that the children will all be blessed -- regardless of where they go to school or on which street they live. The cross promises that the hungry will be satisfied. It promises that the poor will be called 'blessed.' The cross promises life -- life abundant and life eternal. And, well, Linda Cropp, Adrian Fenty, and everyone else is going to have a hard time keeping up with these promises.

Next Generation Resources

This weekend, I had the opportunity to see many of my friends from Duke Divinity School at a board meeting in Charlotte. The people I gathered with this weekend are incredible people who are doing amazing things as pastors, foundation leaders, and real estate developers. They are some of my favorite people -- people who always cause me to think a lot, ask several questions, and be more committed to my vocation as a pastor.

Many of us took a course together at Duke called "Religion and Philanthropy in the South." It was a wonderful, practical course that dealt with how the church can be an agent of change in the community. The course was team-taught by Jackson Carroll and Mark Constantine, and Mark was with us yesterday. In fact, Mark is largely responsible for why we were all together in the first place. Mark has a remarkable commitment to many different causes. But, he is especially committed to helping young people make their visions a reality. Through his course, Mark taught us how to create a foundation and a non-profit organization. Yesterday, however, was not a course. It was the real thing.

Our colleague and convener, Steve, has a complex question he is hoping to answer through a new organization: How do we equip future, emerging congregational leaders with the resources they need to lead strong congregations that will, in turn, build healthy communities?

Steve is passionate about the church and has a clear vision for an organization that can resource future congregational leaders. He knows that by 2030 more than 50% of the U.S. population will be non-white. He also knows that there are significant problems facing society in this post 9/11 and post Hurricane Katrina era. Rather than talking about these issues, Steve wants to do something about them. And, he believes the church can play a pivotal role in bringing about the changes that are needed in order for more of our communities to be healthy. The church must first, however, have leaders who are committed and well-resourced.

After our time together, I have no doubt that this next generation of pastors is going to be equipped quite well, especially if the people I met with yesterday have anything to do with it. Stay tuned...

No Experience Necessary

I tried something new this week and saved $30 in the process. I visited the Aveda Institute located a few blocks from the church, on the second floor of the Verizon Center development. I have read about the Aveda Institute, having picked up a pamphlet months ago. The Institute prepares men and women to cut hair, do manicures and pedicures, and offer a myriad of spa selections. The difference between the Aveda Institute and an Aveda salon boils down to two things -- price and experience. If you go to the Aveda Institute, you sign a waiver that states how you realize your service will be performed by a student -- by someone who is still in school and who might mess up. However, you get the service at a fraction of the normal cost. A hair cut, for example, is $18.

I walked into the doors of the Institute at the appointed time. I made my way through the simple store filled with shampoos, conditioners, makeup, candles and lotions. I sat down at the bench where all customers are directed to wait, and I waited for my name to be called.

As I sat there I looked around, examining each student to see if I thought they had enough experience to cut my hair. Numerous thoughts went through my mind as I waited. Would that person be able to handle my ultra thick hair? What about that woman -- isn't she too young to cut hair? Look at her -- she doesn't know how to style her own hair -- how could she possibly style my hair? I wonder if I can switch my service to a pedicure instead of a haircut.

My mind didn't get far, however, before Rachel walked over, extended her hand to greet me, and ushered me to her chair. She assessed my hair carefully, asking me what I wanted her to do. She then called her instructor over to double check her plans.

The treatment then began. I was refreshed by a scalp massage, a short shoulder massage, and an amazing shampoo. And, an hour and a half later, I had a great haircut, and Rachel had learned how to use a new tool that she had not yet learned to use in her education. Furthermore, I was out only $18 plus a $4 tip.

I have thought a lot this week about my impressions of the students in the Institute. It certainly was not right for me to try to size everyone's gifts up while waiting on the bench. I was certainly premature with my judgment. I wanted the person cutting my hair to look competent. I wanted her to look like she spent time on her own hair. I wanted her to give me a fabulous cut -- even though she was a beginner.

I wonder what first-time visitors at our church think of me when I introduce myself as the pastor. Do I look like a pastor? Do I appear competent enough to share the good news? Does my life embody a life of the sacred -- a life of prayer, of service, of ministry to the poor, of study of scripture -- a life of faith?

There are so many things I love about Jesus. One of them, however, is that when he called a group of disciples he said that no experience was necessary. He called people who were in entirely different fields. He called fishermen and tax collectors -- not religious scholars to be his disciples. He called people like Peter who wanted to trust but had a hard time -- not people who had their walks of faith all figured out and perfected. Jesus demonstrated that he could use anyone in his quest to heal the sick, share good news with the poor, and bring about a new kind of kingdom.

Thankfully, Jesus still calls people who do not have it all together -- people who are still learning -- people who are still making mistakes -- people like you and like me.

Holes!

The date has almost arrived when two of Mount Vernon Place UMC's buildings will be closed. In fact, all of the church's belongings must be moved out of our two educational buildings by this Friday in order for demolition permits to be in hand by December. And everything seems to be in a state of disruption.

We have started a 4:00 p.m. worship service two blocks down the street at Asbury UMC -- a space in which we will remain until our sanctuary renovation is finished in December of 2007. We have had two yard sales. We have put our remaining things in storage. And, we now have holes in our walls.

While the winds of Friday's storm blew out a window on the third floor, this hole is not the result of a storm. Rather, this hole represents an effort to give to others.

Deuteronomy 24:19 says, "When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back and get it; it shall be left for the alien, the orphan, and the widow, so that the Lord your God may bless you in all your undertakings."

Now I have gleaned countless cantaloupes in North Carolina. I have bagged hundreds of sweet potatoes with youth from around the country. I am familiar with the hunger relief efforts of the Society of St. Andrew. However, I have never before thought about gleaning a building.

Our minister of music, Sally Long, has done an incredible job of contacting different organizations who may be able to use the doors, the lights, the air conditioners, the ceiling fans, and many other items in the two buildings about to be demolished. Today, one organization picked up more than a dozen air conditioning window units. They are all shapes and sizes, all models and makes. And soon they will be installed in the homes of individuals who have weathered the summer heat of 2006 with fans but who will be able to choose to enjoy air conditioning in their home when the summer heat returns next year.

It has been a blessing to see different needs being met by things that would have otherwise been left for demolition and dumpsters. Once again, I have realized how much we take for granted -- lights, ceiling fans, doors, hardware, windows. We toss so much aside when it is no longer needed instead of thinking how what we are placing in the trash may be someone else's treasure.

God, help us all to be better stewards of what you have given to us. Teach us once again that it is more blessed to give than it is to receive. Help us to share what we have with those around us. Amen.

Lessons Learned from the Local Steak 'n Egg

There is a wonderful, front-page article in today's Washington Post titled "Grits and Determination: A Recipe for Success." The article reads, "To see and hear and smell how America works, go to the corner of Wisconsin Avenue and Chesapeake Street NE and step into the Steak 'n Egg Kitchen. The Tenleytown diner is a round-the-clock crossroads for people from all over the world -- all colors and ages and religions and socioeconomic stripes. It's usually accepting, often accommodating, always unlocked."

The writer of the article continues, "At the Steak 'n Egg, you have front-row seats for the extravaganza that is existence. You can see up close the specialties and speciousness of the species. 'You see prostitutes sitting next to Secret Service agents next to a 12-year-old kid who has run away from home for a while,' Barrie says about his counter. 'You have the whole United Nations sitting there.'"

• usually accepting
• often accommodating
• always unlocked
• front row seats for the extravaganza that is existence
• prostitutes and Secret Service agents
• the whole United Nations

Perhaps the Steak 'n Egg has a thing or two to teach us about how to be the church.

Cleaning out the Closets

We have been busy cleaning the church out for months now. Cleaning out the belongings of a building with over 100 working rooms is no easy task. As with our own homes, we tend to fill whatever space we have with whatever belongings we can acquire. We keep things we do not need just because we have space for them. We fill closets until they get to the point where the door no longer opens.

I have learned in the last several weeks that our church has too many closets -- too many closets that have not been opened in decades. We also have many rooms that have not been organized in years. We have too much clutter, and something had to be done with all of the things we no longer use.

After two yards sales that brought in over $4700 to be used for missions, we turned to Craig's List with a posting for "Free Desks." Having never listed anything on Craig's List before, I have been amazed at the response! People are so eager to receive whatever it is that is free. I have recieved about 30 responses to this posting. Several students want a desk. Many non-profit organizations need desks. Other people simply need furniture to fill their empty space. I have met so many people this week who have come through the doors of our church eager to receive a free desk. They have left with a desk, a chair or two, and many other items as we have not allowed anyone to leave the building with just one thing! And, they have left with huge smiles on their faces.

Needless to say, I have learned a lot this week. We need to be better about cleaning out our clutter more often. We need to spend time periodically going through our closets and our rooms in an effort to get rid of what has not been used for a long time. We need to be careful about what we put in closets -- what we hide away to be dealt with another time. And, we need to constantly look at all that we have and make decisions to share a portion of what we have with those who need it.

The clutter in our lives does not limit itself to our homes or our workplaces. We all have things we are carrying that we need to let go of -- guilt, anger, bitterness, jealousy, and the list goes on and on. We all have "stuff" in our past or in our present that we are not particularly proud of -- stuff we have tried hard to hide away, craming it all into a dark closet in hopes that the door will never be opened by anyone but us. Furthermore, we all have something - no matter how big or how small - that can be shared with someone in need.

I think I'll go clean out some more closets.