Little Bridges

            

I love my work as do soooo many of the fine people that are my colleagues. Driving is my profession of choice for this season of life. Having spent years in NPO’s and corporations, with their stresses, peculiarities and politics, makes working with kids in the school district that much more fun and rewarding. And when a guy gets my age, he has a lot to offer of life experience to help young people who want to listen. Sometimes a few words of encouragement or simply a smile of kindness can make a huge difference in a student’s day. As I serve them, that is a part of my job. And here is my mantra. 

           An education begins and ends, every day, for many students, with a ride on a school bus.

            The ride can be a positive and transformational experience for the student and the driver. There are also opportunities to build little bridges of kindness along the way. 

                                                       Little Bridges

Is there a bridge that you have crossed recently? It carried you from one place, across an impasse, to the other side, right? Of course. There are many bridges in my memory. One bridge I stumbled on was deep in the Pennsylvania woods, on a childhood trek. I was hunting and gathering Mandrake Fruit (Mayapples) for making a lovely, tangy, golden Marmalade. 

This small leaf-covered bridge looked to be at least a hundred years old perhaps two. The hand cut cobblestones were tightly fitted together to form pillars and allowed a small brook to pass underneath. It solidly supported a single lane of multi-colored flat, stone pavement across its top, with a small wall on either side. It was only wide enough for a horse and wagon, small truck or car to cross its gentle arch to the other side.

 I sat down on the bridge and set down my full bag of fragrant, bright yellow, May Apples. I rested in the shaded, quiet coolness of the small valley. My eyes gazed upwards into the canopy of maples and birch trees while my fingertips touched the green mossy stone at my sides and explored its rough fissures and time worn textures. In one crack there was a smooth-ish, silvered looking disc that caught my eye. Prying it loose yielded a treasure! It was a Buffalo Nickle, evidence that another human, perhaps a child was sitting, running or counting their now lost coins in the same spot where I relaxed so many decades later. 

This little bridge was telling me it’s secrets, it’s history, revealed, in minute clues that fired my imagination with scenarios of past pilgrims forgotten days and nights crossing this bridge. 

Was the bridge a regular gathering place? Families, civil war soldiers, laughing children, passionate lovers, weary workmen, farmers and friends crossed it regularly in years gone by I suppose.  

Were they on their way to war, or a farmer’s field to harvest, or talking while lockstep, settling a quarrel or making a plan for summer fun on the last day of school? All this and more could have taken place here. Who’s hands constructed it? Did it have a name?

This brawny little bridge that performed its essential service for so many, has long since fallen to sleep. The new creation of roads and rails between the many surrounding farms and villages put it into retirement. But once it was a well-travelled pathway over the creek, serving a traveler’s needs and intentions.

In life there are many little bridges I’ve found along the way.  I’ve even learned to enjoy building them now. Unlike the one from my childhood, these bridges reach into the emotions, minds and hearts of people, often strangers, often on random occasions.  Once built, they help a person to cross the impasse of unknown relational waters, in a safe and graceful way. These little bridges intersect the void of aloneness and isolation making a way for the willing to go back and forth communicating and hopefully being encouraged. The little bridge of kindness offered, may be small, but it holds a lot of relational weight.  A bridge can be a healer or encourager; even a possible lifesaver! Let me explain. 

A few weeks ago, as I was preparing to release my high school students from my bus at their stop.  It’s a routine exercise for me to give a farewell and wish my passengers a good evening over the PA. But on this day, I said, “And if you are not someone’s hopes and dreams right now, someday you WILL be?” I can’t explain why those words came to mind…they were just there…and I used them. 

The students exited one by one. But, to my surprise, the last young person to exit was a smiling high-school girl who paused and said in an appreciative way, “Thank you Mr. Bus Driver, I really needed to hear that today.” I pushed back a couple of old guy tears and smiled saying to her, “Aww, thank you.” 

It was a tiny, magic moment of understanding that two humans on earth shared. It encouraged and smoothed a step or two on the emotional path of life. A little bridge was built, made with healing words and crossed over, very likely, just once; but always, I think, to be remembered. Little bridges of kindness can reach to another at just the time they are most needed. I think little bridges are important far beyond my limited knowledge of the encounter. 

I’ve used small gifts, little acts of kindness, friendly words, smiles (Isn’t a smile so nice to receive?) impromptu conversation starters (Hey did you see that rainbow yesterday?) and a hundred other gestures to build little bridges. A favorite of mine is to ask the name of a nurse, waitperson, delivery man or woman or whomever is helping me at the time, and then thank them personally by name.

 Bridge building ideas are a kind of the construction material used to build a bridge where none was before. The possibilities for building little bridges to the hearts of others are limitless and the opportunities worthwhile. By building little bridges we can make this often-lonely world just a little bit more peaceful of a place to be humans together. 

Half The Sky by Kristoff and WuDunn

Half The Sky

Half the Sky (Wudunn, 2009) was written by Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl WuDunn. I read Half the Sky while working for the International Church of the Foursquare Gospel as Missional Director. I was responsible for fostering a mission minded culture in 110 churches and para-church works in Mid-Atlantic States. 

I confess Half The Sky was a difficult read. Many times, I put it down saying, “No this isn’t real, this must be fiction. These countries and their oppressive regimes and peoples can’t be causing this level of suffering.” But the credibility of the stories and real people with touching photographs was undeniably real. 

The title of the book, Half the Sky is based on a Chinese Proverb stating, “Women hold up half the sky.” Meaning that their contribution and position is equal to a man. Half the Sky contains fourteen stories of suffering, hope and redemption. They are stories of individuals that turned their trouble into a triumph by helping themselves and then others. A case in point is the story of pregnant Prudence Lemokouno who had already lost her child (still within her) to a lack of any kind of maternal care. She now faced the tragic loss of her own life due to weakness, infection and the apathetic staff of a small hospital. Her husband screamed, “Please save my wife, she is dyeing and you can save her.” The transfusion she needed came too late because the hospital had to send a nurse away to buy needles! 

Stories like this produced a sense of shame and indignation in me and an upset of my comfortable world. I could get medical attention any time of the day or night for whatever malady or sickness I had or my family had. I began to talk to people about the book encouraging them with the stories that everything is not ok in so many countries. I used the statistics to influence those on my team. One woman dies every minute of lack of proper maternal care. I purchased copies of Half the Sky for senior women’s ministry leaders and offered to read it with them. Sadly, there was little interest in the suffering of women globally. It seemed leadership preferred the safe, clean and comfortable American lifestyle to the upsetting realities documented in Half The Sky. 

The true stories are also filled with redemptive outcomes that can, and will, I believe, inspire readers to takes steps forward to get involved in the healing process. 

Where Mortals Dwell by Craig Bartholomew

Where Mortals Dwell by Craig Bartholomew

    

     Where Mortals Dwell is written by Craig G. Bartholomew. (Bartholomew, 2011) I read Where Mortals Dwell as preparation for the Fresno Overture in 2017. The book is written for pilgrims in the quest for a practical and theological understanding of place. There is very little written about the Christian perspective of place and Where Mortals Dwell fills that void. I am in hopes that this book will be the inspiration for many others to dive in headlong into this study and be transformed through understanding their place in God’s wonderful blueprint. 

            From the foundational premise by Heidegger on p.10, “The world is the house where mortals dwell” Bartholomew crafts from biblical insights from Genesis and elsewhere a solid theology of place. A theology of place can cure the human ill of our nation today, of being atopic (inability to find place) and displaced in their own land. The author states, “As embodied creatures in imago Dei, humans are always dated and located, that is, placed.”According to the theology of place advanced in the book, like Israel, we will journey in pilgrimage and settle in land, often to experience exodus, exile, diaspora and voluntary or forced displacement. 

            Bartholomew inspiringly teaches the value of the contributions of the philosophers to “place” and interrogates their thinking for gleanings which can contribute to a better understanding on spatial reality. Bartholomew states, “The early church crafted its world view in the context of Greco-Roman thought and throughout the centuries the relationship between theology and philosophy has become complex but always interrelated…wonderfully we are witnessing a renewed interest in place by philosophers and theologians, but major work needs to be done.” 

            Where Mortals Dwell has helped and is helping me to connect more meaningfully with my faith community and also with my 20-30-year-old children who are students of the philosophers and hold a deep Christian faith. 

Encounter God in the City Dr. Randy White

                                     Encounter God In The City by Dr. Randy White

        Encounter God in the City was written by Dr. Randy White. I read it re-entering my city after 6 years in the East. I gained equilibrium hunting for a new job, reconnected with my city and network of friends, some going back 40 years with the help of this book. 

         In the Epilogue (p.184, 185) White suggests we “grow something new” and illustrates that things, like wildflowers, can grow in the cracks of a city sidewalk. White encourages from scripture a hopeful compassionate approach (Isaiah 58:10-11) to living in the city and giving possibilities looking forward. I decided to cross the line into the future  of my city and spend  no more time nursing the pain of the past. 

            Dr. White’s journal of moving to the Lowell District gave me courage to see what can be accomplished by a leader willing to walk naked into the land of uncertainty, as it is said. White’s book, like a good play, exposes real life scenes, fleshed out in Lowell, by White,  his wife and growing faith community. While taking inspiration from the White’s mission, I realized that it was not my calling, as yet, to relocate again, but to prepare for what was next when God opened a subsequent season, while living fully present in my city to serve!  

Through 40 years of life on mission God has called me, by invitation, to people and places. 103 Copper Street was our first attempt at a youth church, Blue Diamond Nevada was our country pastorate of 17 years, Neighborhood Church was 12 years of intense inner city ministry, my Mid-Atlantic District Directorship was 6 fruitful years of church planting and church health work, and now, working with the Clark County School District while finishing my Masters Degree. These places of service were by invitation. White’s investment, now 25 years rich, brought transformation to Fresno’s Lowell District. Through Encountering God In The City, I am learning to engage my city and to help lead others into a better personal and neighborhood transformational process. As White says (back cover) “seek the welfare of the city and both you and the city will be transformed.” 

Struggle and Fruitfulness

                                                   Struggle and Fruitfulness!

  Everyone has grown a garden or a fruit tree or something in his or her lifetime, right? Ok, at least watered a houseplant and had the feeling of participating for a moment  in the wonder and mystery of growing things!

  So, growing a couple of robust bunches of grapes like you see in the picture wouldn’t be that unusual for a gardener, right? They would be pretty normal for my garden except for this one fact: the fruit was, unknown and completely hidden from sight, invisible in the tangled knots of my unkempt pile of bramble on the grapevine.

   A little backstory is needed here. I made great plans for these vines in the winter and spring. While dormant, I pruned them carefully and according to good instructions for grape production. The only thing that I never accomplished for them was to build the trellises they would need to be supported when they blossomed.

   Somehow, sadly, life got busy and days changed in to months and no trellis took form, my bad. That being the case, nature did want it does best, so secretly, it made a way for life! To my shock, one day, I harvested, an incredible, 20 lbs. of sweet delicious luscious fruit, very much, by surprise.

   You see, knowing I had failed to build the trellis, and to make the backyard neat in appearance, I went out on a warm July day to finally cut off the seemingly unruly and unproductive overgrowth of my grapevine. I had tried to ignore it feeling really guilty about the whole mess. I even considered taking the vines out altogether.

  The limbs of the grapevines were hopelessly choked and tangled. After I cut them, to my wonder, I had a hard time lifting the severed branches from the ground. I cut them free everywhere that I could see a clinging tendril and still there was resistance, weight!      

  I gave a mighty pull and up came a huge cluster of bright green, Thompson Seedless Grapes and then more clusters of perfectly dulcet grape berries!  Never had I expected this. A gimungous smile broke out on my face as I received the undeserved abundance of God, in nature’s goodness. I ran for a bucket to gather the bounty!

           So you might ask, “Why tell this story Ron?” Here are the reasons I did:

    I learned that day that sometimes a harvest can come to us by surprise when least expected and in an unlikely situation.

  I observed that what may seem unfruitful, unproductive and unsightly, like my overgrown vine nightmare can in fact hold hidden treasures. It just needs to be uncovered to be discovered and reveled in.

  And, isn’t it amazing that there is the possibility of fruitfulness when the favor of expected support and just (what is appropriate) care are neglected. Growth can and does take place through struggle and in spite of unlikely odds of success.

  These days I’m much slower to judge by the outward appearances of misfortune, insignificant social stature or a humble station in life. As I see it, this little true story applies to life, giving me hope and joy knowing that powers are at work invisibly making good in difficult circumstances; you see, a struggle isn’t the end of the story for a grapevine, or a human. A struggle is often a beginning of success and fruitfulness, sometimes by surprise. 

Finding a New Normal for the American Church

                                  Mission Minded Church Planters Create A New Normal

   Yesterday I had a defining and enlightening conversation with a new church planting pastor.  He and I were serving up our specialties to a wonderful group of Christ followers and potential seekers of God.  I offered a bible lesson and the planter offered crisis management packages (clean socks, toiletries and more) at a weekly outdoor service that benefits the poor in our city.  The lead Pastora, Linda, has loved her city, Henderson Nevada by providing church services, meals and practical assistance here for at least 10 years. It is a joy to serve along side her. 

   As the planter and I chatted this is the vision he shared: "I have a group ready to plant a new church from my church here. I have my pastors blessing! We are going to focus on THIS, like, what we are doing HERE! Serving the people of this community with Jesus love and making a difference outside the walls of a building, everywhere we go. Ministry HAS to make a difference to have real purpose and meaning for God and people."  All I could do is agree!

   This guy is passionate and has street credibility from years of hard work on mission in our city of Henderson. I know he is going to plant a church that cares. He needs no money because he is a volunteer for God along with his group. More people will get to know Jesus because of his vision for planting the gospel through first century style serving.

   By observation these are the kind of people, the church planters, which represent the new normal for the American church. They aren’t big shots, professional religious people or even charismatic. They are true New Testament apostles, prophets and evangelists exercising their divine gifting by serving. The work they do isn’t pastor-centric, organization-centric or teacher-centric as is often the current (and mission crippling) normal in the American Church today.  New normal church planters are Christian centered and infused in their community through service. Faith and works make new normal transformations possible.  

   New normal pastors and church planters blaze new trails in the cultural wilderness where many pastors or churched people won’t go. They willingly, lovingly mix and mingle in the multi-racial, multi-lingual, multi-status and spectral-gender America we now live in. To put it pictorially, God has His hands in the mud of earth (creating and redeeming) and these planting leaders do too!

  It is important to state that any church can live the new normal too by getting their hands in the mud of mission. The best-case scenario is when the pastor jumps in first to serve, modeling Jesus style! Some of the members are soon to follow and the DNA of new normal serving is deeply planted in the church for life!

   Church denominations have made national news lately for the admission that they are slowly dying and can’t find the answer to the problem. Thom Rainer, a student of the church and denominational life has found this one thing in common in churches and organizations in decline. He says:

            “Simply stated, the most common factor in declining churches is an inward focus.”

                          (There is a link to this website and the rest of Thom’s article at the end of my blog.)

   Organizations and individual churches are consumed with their polity, management structures, comfort and image while Jesus mission goes neglected and human suffering screams for healing care on every front.

   For denominations and independent churches to grow again they should embrace new normal planters and individuals and their vision for mission and help them with resources to increase their effectiveness.

  For traditional inwardly focused churches and organizations to grow again the senior leadership can ask openly for help from God AND from their members and member churches.  The grass roots servants who are daily doing the work in their communities often already know the keys to opening new normal doors for mission and church plants.

   One big responsibility of senior leadership is to humble themselves and search for new normal leaders. They should open the gate to welcome any people called by God to plant new normal churches and ministries in any context, no matter how crazy it seems to the old administrative minds.    I have seen this work successfully again and again for over 35 years of mission observation. Humbly asking for help is the key to success and is very becoming of leaders of leaders. Ask and it shall be given…!

   All this being said, I was born and eternal optimist. When there is a dung pile, I assure myself that there must be a stable of plow horses nearby who are ready to break up the hard soil of the mission field and get a crop growing and going!  Hosea 10:12 baby! The inner cities, small towns and suburbs in America are starving for thousands of new normal churches to be planted.

   New normal church planters are the hope of a changing church culture in America. They are the apostles, prophets and evangelists that get churches planted, work for justice and healing amongst the suffering of all types and bring the fresh, simple, smiling love of Jesus to their cities and towns.

   New normal planters represent the healthy outward movement of the gospel message, as it has succeeded for over two millennia. New normal leaders function and serve seamlessly in a culture that is changing rapidly, understanding that it is the people that are precious to God and who are ready to be loved into a relationship with their creator through a new church plant.  

                 http://thomrainer.com/2014/05/common-factor-declining-churches/

The Almost Dead

The Almost Dead

   The Monty Python movie, The Holy Grail made the phrase, “I’m not dead yet” famous. The plight of the real, almost dead, is woefully visible and tragic.

    Each day as I drive through the streets of my city there are the cold, barely breathing, almost dead, wrapped in dirty blankets and greasy soiled cloths.  

   They lie broken on the sidewalks in the vacant lots and in the alleys. They are visible to all who walk, run or drive by. They are so close to eternity’s curtain, one breath away from passing through death’s mysterious veil. Are they aware of the peril?

   The living and thriving are on these same streets. They fare better, being in motion longer, carrying the sparks and flames of heated dreams and hopes. Their steps are varied strides apace with their mind’s desires and their body’s needs. Vision and vitality press them to work and love and play. They are the more free and fortunate ones.

   The fully dead on the street are tidied up quickly by the ambulance and the police. These dutiful servants string yellow barrier tape looking like horizontal rays of sunny ribbon adorning and heralding the gift of a disappearing life that has left earth and entered eternity. The dead are attended by a coroner, concerned police asking questions, some family (if they are aware of the death) or perhaps an Imam, Priest, Pastor or Rabbi who offer prayers for whomever may remain of the deceased’s estranged clan.

   The almost dead don’t receive as much attention. They have to wait their turn to be noticed.

   My hope for the almost dead is that somewhere in their lives they may have had the magic moment of experiencing God’s touch of grace and believing He cares for them and knowing that He loves them.

                                             

    However broken and downcast a human may be, he is never far from the love of the Maker. Another hope is that living, thriving humans may awaken to the reality that the almost dead are their responsibly to love and to care for. For in that act of loving and caring for life’s most vulnerable, are we truly found to be human and alive.