Posted by jklossner    1 Comment(s)    Add a Comment 
Oct 6 2017

This week as I have grappled with the horrific shooting on Sunday night, I have been at a loss for words. I continue breathing deeply, feeling the weight as well as the frustration of another shooting. While I have been at a loss for ‘new’ words I might share with you, I came across this song that was released this week called “Dear Hate” by Maren Morris. In the song, she says “Dear Hate, I saw you on the news today. Like a shock that takes my breath away. You fall like rain, cover us in drops of pain. I'm afraid that we just might drown.” I was oddly comforted that someone was naming both my fear and frustration. And yet, just as the song does not stop there, neither does my faith.

I have clung to the Scripture this week from Revelation 21:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,“See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.”

This scripture is a resounding proclamation that hate does not, and will not, have the last word. God makes a home in the midst of suffering and before anything else, chooses to be a God that wipes the tears from our eyes. If you have ever had a moment where someone who loves you dearly wipes tears from your eyes, you know just how deeply comforting and loving this image of God is. What a gift that God holds onto us while also challenging us to hold on to more than pain and hatred, and instead, cling to love.

I reheard the same sentiment from Revelation at the end of Morris’ song:

Dear Love
Just when I think you've given up
You were there in the garden when I ran from your voice
I hear you every morning through the chaos and the noise
You still whisper down through history and echo through these halls
And tell me love's gonna conquer all

This last week in Access we talked about priority, and I posed the question: who are you, and what are you about? I revisited this question myself this week and decided first that living in fear or anger is not who I am and more importantly, not what I’m about. So even when I do not know how to make sense of the violence and the tragedy, or have the eloquent words, I will choose to still be a person who proclaims that God is so very present in the hardest and darkest places. That’s not blissful optimism, it’s resilience; and the good news I saw this last week in the stories of unsung heroes is that it is real.

Join us on Sunday when we dig deeper into this question of who we are by talking about our identity. If you’re like me and need some words that bring you hope and challenge, here’s a prayer by Mark Miller that has been one I have leaned on this week. My prayer for you and for me this is that we spend a little less time trying to make sense, and instead make room- for love and compassion, and for hearts that reflect the unwavering heart of God that holds on to us even in the darkest moments.  

See you Sunday,

-Julie

O God, fill our hearts to reach out in welcome.
Make us to see your vision once more.
Let's dream of a world where our hands are your hands.
We offer ourselves; O God, make it so.
Make it so; make it so.
We pray for that day, make it so.
We dream of a world where love reigns among us;
Your will is done; help us make it so.

Posted by rrindfuss    0 Comment(s)    Add a Comment 
Sep 28 2017

Back in the day I discovered a pallet full of ceiling tiles in the barn on our farm. They were the white tiles that make up the suspended ceilings common in offices. I didn't know where they came from or how long they might be around, but their rectangular shape resembled that of playing cards, and that gave me an idea.

I set out to build a giant card house using ceiling tiles. One by one I stacked, leaned, shifted, re-stacked and adjusted until I had a house of sorts I could climb through. It all went well until Rusty, our Collie, showed up and decided to sprint through my creation. One after one the tiles tumbled and soon all that remained was a pile on the floor and a rising cloud of dust. Many years later I discovered Jenga, the game where you try to build the tallest tower possible by repeatedly shifting wooden blocks from the bottom to the top, always risking that the next move will cause it all to tumble down.

Giant card houses and Jenga are pretty good analogies for life. You shift an appointment here, move the timing of a life goal there, spend some here, save some there, invest in some education here, and nurture some faith there. Then look out! Here comes an unexpected medical event, job change, or family crisis. You shift some more life pieces and hope the whole thing you've built doesn't come crashing down.

Over the next several weeks we're excited to explore this Jenga/life analogy at Access. We'll look at pieces of life that I suspect we all struggle with balancing: priorities, how we get our sense of identity, money, time, and planning & spontaneity. Julie and I will reach into the scriptures and some more of our own life stories to find wisdom for balancing these important pieces of life and building them into a structure that will be a blessing to you and to others.

Do you know someone that's struggling with balancing all the pieces of life? I hope you'll invite them to come with you to Access this Sunday.

See you there!
Rich

Rich Rindfuss
Access Pastor
First United Methodist Church Richardson

Posted by jklossner    0 Comment(s)    Add a Comment 
Sep 22 2017

About a month ago, one of my former professors from Perkins School of Theology, Dr. Bill Bryan, passed away. I had the privilege of taking a class with him on leadership. One of the most important things he taught me was that a good leader is one who is “unusually committed and action-oriented.” Dr. Bryan taught me the importance of being dedicated to the people we serve and care for. He even taught the importance of getting up on the roof for more than just fixing a hole.

In this class, we created our own leadership mission statement as well. I pulled from the Scripture in Mark chapter 2, when Jesus heals a man who is paralyzed. The Scripture says: “Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralyzed man, 'Son, your sins are forgiven.'" I noticed that the task of the friends was to find a way to get the man to Christ. In order to get to Christ, they had to go through the roof - an unusual and creative method through which Jesus saw their faithfulness.

This story has always been an example of faithfulness and leadership; making clear that our job is to find new and creative ways to bring people to Christ. Like the friends of the man who was paralyzed, we may need to think outside the box in order to be faithful to our calling to "make disciples for Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world." We might even need to be willing to get up on the roof.

I am grateful to the people in my life who have gotten on the roof for me - who care and love so deeply and actively that they are not easily deterred by struggle or problems. My question for you, and for me, this week is this: who needs you to get on the roof for them? Who in your life needs to see Jesus and needs you to help them get there? 

This Sunday, we conclude our series Rooted by talking about being rooted in something core to the Christian faith - hope.

See you Sunday!

Julie