Disconnecting

I'm on retreat at Mt. Zion Retreat Center in Roaring Branch, Pennsylvania. I've been coming here for years to be alone with God and allow Him to attempt to recalibrate my soul.  Roaring Branch is near Canton, which is about an hour north of Williamsport on Route 14.

I'm a half-hour drive from my brother, Ira's, home.  I always get a visit in with him (and Joyce) while I'm in the area.

Mt. Zion is a quiet, out-of-the-way place.  I'm usually the only guest here.  In recent years they've given me a room in the lodge, which is a three-floor, fully fledged retreat center.  I'm in room 10 on the second floor this week.  It has a small desk, a double bed, a lamp and stand, and a desk chair. This is the first time I've had a room with a private bathroom.  I'm quite comfortable.  There's a refrigerator and microwave on the first floor for me to use.

This area has changed a lot over the last decade or so.  The gas recovery business has brought jobs and wealth.  Mt. Zion seems to have benefitted from this phenomenon.  I'm noticing much-needed improvements (including my new bathroom).  I also just noticed several massive windmills on the mountain overlooking Mt. Zion!

This is the ideal place to disconnect.  I'm ten miles from Canton and its stores, restaurants and cell service.  I get an occasional bar of service on my phone, which once-in-a-while lets a text message squeeze through.  I never had internet here before, but now am blessed (?) to have wifi in the retreat house.

It's not uncommon for me to spend five days here and not see or talk with anyone (except for the visit to my brother's house).  I read and nap and type and pray and think in a random schedule that suits me perfectly.  I live in the same clothes all week.  I don't shave.  I don't eat.  There's no television. My phone can't ring.  I'm surrounded by mountains.  The place is appropriately named.

I've noticed that I always feel lonely when I arrive (which is usually late on a Sunday).  Entering the silence and solitude is a difficult process to describe. I know I've been privileged as a pastor to have the freedom to practice this discipline.  There've been times when I've done this two (and even three) times a year!

I find that I sleep a lot the first day - usually in frequent naps.  My schedule changes radically.  I may read or write late into the night and then sleep.  I usually take a walk in the woods at least once a day. I play guitar a little and sing and praise the Lord.  I bring about fifty books with me so I have the resources I think I'll need to plan preaching series.  [I'm here this week to pray, plan and prepare for the Tri State Family Camp in July.]

It seems to take a full day to disconnect.  I never expect to get much done the first day.  I know I'll read and nap and think.  I journal a lot while I'm here; it helps to cleanse my thoughts.

Gradually though, I do disconnect.  My mind settles down.  I'm old-school, so I usually start my planning with a yellow pad and pencil.  Eventually, though, my fingers begin to play on the keyboard. At some point I always reflect on how wise I was to take that summer school typing class between my junior and senior years.  :-)

Debbie has never come with me.  She seems to know how precious this 'alone time' is for me.  I did take Travis on retreat with me once for several days.  I got him a private room.  He read constantly. We had some good talks and bonding time.  I remember that trip fondly!

Connecting with God has clear benefits.  I can count on a time when the thoughts begin to flow and my fingers can't move fast enough.  These are often the times when I will work till 3:00 AM without a stop.  When I awaken refreshed, I can step right back into the flow and continue the work. Having no distractions is an amazing blessing!

Getting clear with God is rich!  I've known for some time that I've been letting a distance grow with Him.  The last eight months have been full of disappointments for me.  In my sorrow, my relationship with God has suffered.  I've been needing some face-to-face time with Him.  Here I am, Lord!

I know that some would not enjoy this experience.  I also know that some who would enjoy it can't seem to make it happen for one reason or another. To some extent, I believe our constantly 'plugged-in' culture is detrimental to us in almost every way.  Our spiritual relationships - although occasionally buzzed by something we read or see on Facebook - suffer from a lack of solitude and silence.

Being alone in a room with Him for several days means you're going to eventually have to converse with Him.  I typically find that most of what I have to say takes the form of confession (a rare topic in Christianity these days).  For me, it's like taking roto-rooter to a clogged drain.  Once those channels are flowing again the communion is once again rich!

Day one is ending.  The silence is overwhelming.  I feel like I'm not alone in this room...

A Guilty Conscience

Having just written about the annual sessions of the Pittsburgh Conference, I thought I'd follow it up with something a little lighter.

My mom died  a few months after Tracibeth was born (1981).  She was without a doubt the dominant force in the shaping of my life!  Although I rarely write or speak about her, in one way or another I miss her every day.

Above all, she was a deep godly influence on me through her love for God, commitment to missions and practice of prayer.  However, she also transmitted something else to each of her four children:  an amazing sense of humor!

This humor was resident not only in my mom, but also in each of her two sisters.  I loved my Aunt Goldie and Aunt Sylvie.  They were so fun to be around.  Contagious laughter always marked their visits - along with an abundance of practical jokes!

I guess the 'Walton humor' continues on to some extent through Jeannette, Ira, Beverly and Harold. So be it...

I thought you all might enjoy a story today:

One year, back in the 1960's, the area bishop was unable to attend and lead the annual sessions of the Pittsburgh Conference.  As a result, an administrative leader from Free Methodist Headquarters in Winona Lake, Indiana, was sent to take his place.  I honestly don't remember who it was - which is probably good.

Whoever it was had just gotten married and had agreed to fill in for the bishop on the heels of his honeymoon!  How's that for a sacrifice?

Of course, this was known to the people of the Pittsburgh Conference and they were duly recognized for their entry into matrimony!  As a matter of tradition, they were appointed to the 'Evangelist's Cottage' on the upper row. Appropriate signs of congratulations decorated the humble abode that year!

But my mother hatched her own plan.  She sneaked into the cottage during the opening sessions and opened their luggage.  Quickly, she loosely stitched his pajamas and her nightgowns closed.  Then, of course, she bolted away with her secret.

The next day, she waited nervously through the sessions for some acknowledgement of her misdeed. Nothing was said.

She continued to wait.  Again on day three, nothing was said.

Day four.  No acknowledgement of her practical joke.

Conference would end the next day and she feared that her attempt at humor had not been received well.  Her conscience bothered her so much that she decided to confess to her prank.

Seizing a private moment with the couple, she confessed to having sown their sleeping garments closed.  They had absolutely no awareness of what she had done!

Ah, the joys of being newlyweds!

Times They Are A Changing...

The annual session of the Pittsburgh Conference of the Free Methodist Church is set to meet at Kittanning FMC on June 3-4, 2016.  This year's event will not even last twenty-four hours.  That's quite a change from back in the 1960's, when it was a five-day event that was always held at the Tri State Free Methodist Camp in East Liverpool, Ohio.

Pastors, lay delegates, honored guests and others were lodged in dorm rooms and cottages.  There were always a few who preferred to pay their own way and stay at the nearby Best Western Hotel. There are legendary stories of snoring annoyances and allegations of making noise after curfew. Meals were served in the dining hall by the always-in-complete-control, Virginia!

The tabernacle was transformed into a place for the transacting of business under the leadership of the area bishop.  Reports were given, worship times were enjoyed, the bishop challenged the attenders, reports were given, special guests addressed the conference, the superintendent gave his 'state-of-the-work address', reports were given and the all-important appointments were read [some called them the 'disappointments']!

I grew up attending these events annually.  To a child, they were terribly boring.  However, as a youth it gave me another five days to be with my Rochester District friends.  For most of my youth years, I served as the dish-washer for the over three hundred attendees.  

My father was always one of the lay delegates from the New Brighton church.  He seemed to almost always share this role with Morrison Baker. Morrison was for many years the song leader at conference.  His skill and ability at leading worship was a spiritual gifting that blessed anyone who sat under his leadership!

I fondly remember coming home from Roberts Wesleyan College as a ministerial candidate in the conference.  For the first time, I was allowed to sit beside my father within the bar of the conference and actually participate in these deliberations.  In some sense, my father was my mentor in this process;  I was very proud of him!  He had come to be quite respected as a leader, having served on the Stationing Committee for over twenty-five years!  [This is the committee that appointed pastors.]

My mother was knee-deep in the simultaneous Women's Missionary Society (WMS) meetings.  For a long time, she was the president of the WMS and would go all out to challenge the conference leaders to prioritize missions in their local churches!

I was intrigued by the business sessions and often sat in on them even as a child between games of 'Careers' or 'Monopoly' with my friend, Denny Mitchell.  The thing that made conference special was the pastors!  They were as diverse as a box of chocolates, yet single-minded in their common love for God!

In many cases the pastors were the chairmen of the many conference committees.  Their reports were a continuous attempt to one-up the previous report!  I'm convinced that many of these men could have made a good living as a stand-up comedian.  Laughter - belly laughter - punctuated the sessions of the conference!  Some went to extremes to make their area seem like the most important thing to come before the conference that year! Names like R. S. McGrew, Paul Hazlett, R. D. Merkle, Harry Stevick, Paul Daniels, Ken Hilling, W. P. Jones, J. S. Mitchell, and so many more litter my memory! Pastors during this time period were highly respected and revered by the people.

Bishops were intimidating characters!  We were so rarely exposed to them that they seemed like authorities that were not to be questioned.  Most were quite serious, almost to the extent of seeming unfriendly.  Bishop Johns would instruct that no one was to leave the tabernacle while he was speaking!  Bishop Boyd was a tall man who spoke with a slight impediment - but with dynamic authority.  Bishop Ellis was passionate and a preacher who made you want to live better and work harder for God!  Bishop Kendall was a quiet man with an unimpressive manner but a deep, godly presence.  I was in awe of these men!

Conference also gave me an opportunity to see my great-uncle, J. O. Archer. His was always the first name called out with the conference roll call.  I was so proud of him!  Everyone loved to hear him pray!  He had a deep, resonant, bass voice that impacted everyone as well as his comfort in talking with God!  He was like a grandfather to me and I loved him dearly!

The annual sessions always ended with a  huge crowd present.  Two events marked the ending of these days of meetings:  the complimentary resolutions and the reading of the appointments.

The complimentary resolutions were customarily in poetic form  They were written by either a lay delegate or a pastor who had been elected to do so. The remarks were published and distributed after they were publicly read. [Later, I had the esteemed privilege of doing the complimentary resolutions myself on several occasions.]  The authors seemed adept at recapturing the greatest moments of the conference.  Any faux paux would certainly gain recognition!  Highlights of heated arguments would likely be mentioned. Humorous incidents would be reviewed.  Someone who grossly went over their allotted time to speak might be roasted.  Times when the Spirit moved would also be recounted.   The listener would literally be moved from laughter to tears and holy moments by these skilled writers!

Then came the moment we all waited for - the reading of the appointments. People crowded into the tabernacle with standing room only!  The bishop would always strictly admonish the crowd that there were to be no cheers, clapping or other outward expressions during the reading of the appointments. His admonishments were not always heeded!  This was the day when pastor's appointments were kept secret until this moment. Oftentimes even the pastor's children did not know they were moving until they heard it with the crowd!  Sobs and weeping often followed the appointments while other gatherings of joy took place in different corners of the tabernacle.

Even the best of bishops were challenged to hold the crowd in control until the final prayer had been prayed.  Pastors were surrounded by people who wanted to express their sorrow AND by people who wanted to greet them as their new leader!  It was a chaotic time fraught with deep emotions!

And then, cars were already packed and everyone headed home to get ready for the first Sunday of a new conference year.  New challenges had been laid out and there was work to be done!

RETIREMENT CONGRATULATIONS

I just wrote a letter to a friend who is retiring from the ministry.  This may be the first time I’ve written such a letter.

I feel a little ashamed because I have quite a few friends who have retired in recent years, but I never wrote letters of congratulations to them.  L 

I suppose every pastor feels that his/her season of ministry was unique.  However, those of us who began in the 1970’s have seen a massive amount of change over five decades:  cultural, economic, social, and leadership.

Some changes:

·       We started with no computers to assist us.

·       Research involved going to a nearby university library.

·       Home visits were a priority when we started.

·       Annual (or bi-annual revivals) were part of the norm

·       Dress expectations have relaxed.

·       The requirement of being prepared to speak three times-a-week have lessened.

·       The church culture has changed dramatically.

·       We adapted to the pastor/CEO transition.

·       We survived the ‘worship wars’ of the 80’s and 90’s

The stress of ministry has magnified which each decade. 

We’ve lost some partners along the way.  Some decided that ministry was not what they had desired or expected and moved on to other ventures.  Some, unfortunately, fell to temptation, depression, or burn-out.  A few others found pleasing roles in para-church organizations or administrative roles that provided a buffer from ministry stress.

Most of us have struggled at one time or another with personal crises, feelings of being overwhelmed, financial challenges, family concerns, along with the responsibility of caring for a congregation facing similar issues. 

Although being ‘on call’ does not become a factor with great frequency, it is a reality that invades even our rest and relax times.  Plus, all of us have counseled individuals in the supermarket, WalMart or at a graduation party. 

However, we’ve also enjoyed amazing perks that accompany our work:

ü  The joy of helping someone to grow in Christ

ü  The satisfaction of seeing someone “get it”

ü  Leaders who have been recruited and trained

ü  Baptisms

ü  Affirmations

ü  Control of our schedule

ü  Pastor’s Appreciation month

ü  Dinner invites

ü  Gifts/cards

In light of all this, I congratulated my friend on maintaining high standards and personal integrity throughout his years.  I wished him a joy-full future and a fulfilling satisfaction in forming his new future.  I wish this for all my pastor-friends who have officially retired.  It won’t be too long and I’ll be joining you.