I attended a funeral today that made me proud to be a pastor. The granddaughter of one of my parishioners was killed in a terrible accident, and this morning I went to her funeral. Funerals for children are incredibly difficult, but the pastors of this church did a masterful job. Their service was personal, hopeful, soulful, and even at times humorous. We mourned together -- deeply -- but we also left with a sense of quiet joy and hope for the future.
Few things disappoint me more than going to a poorly performed funeral. Instead of taking the opportunity to minister to the hurting family, too many pastors go through the motions, read their service books, and give too-long dry sermons that may declare some correct theology but fail to embody the gospel.
The pastor who learns to perform sincere, simple, and grace-filled funerals will build incredible "capital" and loyalty among his people that will -- over the years -- carry him through a host of potentially difficult situations. I was so honored several years ago when one of our senior members told me that I had to stay at the church long enough to do her funeral. I told her that, God willing, I would; and just a few months ago I had the privilege of keeping that promise.
The hardest part of being in the same church for a long time, however, is that I no longer bury my members, I bury my friends!
Monday, November 28, 2005
Friday, November 25, 2005
On crisis intervention
"What am I going to do now?" The question came from the daughter of one of my parishioners. Her own young daughter had been critically injured in an accident, and I had been called to the trauma center to be with the family.
While I don't enjoy trauma situations, I've learned to be very comfortable managing them. In many situations I am relatively passive, but in traumas I tend to take as much control as the situation and the people allow. Because -- for the people involved -- so much of their lives is suddenly out of control, I want to bring as much control back into their lives as I can.
That begins with the physical setting. Are people wandering about? I try to bring them together in one room, have them sit down, and in general bring some order to the chaos they are feeling. Where possible, I act as a liaison between the medical staff and the family. Because I often have access to the emergency room itself, I will go in frequently and find out what is happening. (In major trauma centers that's not always possible.) When medical people are with the family, I try to anticipate questions or provide clarifications where I sense the family is not really hearing what is being said.
Obviously, I try to provide what spiritual resources I can. "May I pray with you?" And I pray for the patient and the family -- especially that they might know Christ's peace and protection. I don't usually read scripture in these situations. Later, but not during the crisis. It's too easy to find some proof text that they're not ready to hear at this point.
I also try to make the family as physically comfortable as possible. Does anyone need some juice or coffee?
Once the immediate confusion subsides and the family begins to settle in for the long wait, I have learned to let the various family members cue me in to how I can help. As people move about, I will often talk to people individually and give them the opportunity to let me know how I can help them. "This is really a tough time, isn't it?" often opens up a conversation. But I have also learned that not everyone wants to talk, and I try to honor their privacy. This is often frustrating to hospital staff who want me to "do my job" and "say something 'spiritual' to make my parishioners' pain go away." Of course, no one says that directly to me, but I know that's what they're often thinking. But I have found that people will let me know how I can best help them through this long process.
The simple truth is that these situations are often incredibly painful for family members, and as much as we would like to, we can't relieve them of that pain. We can be with them in their pain, but we can't take it away.
The most frequent question is, "Why did this happen?" and is expressed in a variety of ways. As gently as I can, I try to let people know that I don't know why. I think most people know that, but they need to ask the question anyway -- and I encourage them to ask even if I can't give them a very satisfying answer. But along the way, I stress that even though we don't know what's going on, GOD does -- and He will be with them. I also try to assure them that God didn't do this to them -- that He's not punishing them by harming their loved one. As bizarre as that sounds, I find that a lot of people in crisis just assume that it is a punishment from God for something they've done (or not done).
As time goes on, I talk about how angry they're feeling -- toward the person who might have caused the accident, toward God, toward the medical staff, toward the patient, and toward themselves. I let them know that God can handle their anger, and I may even talk about times that I have been angry with Him. I listen to their hurts and questions, but I don't try to respond to all of them (again to the frustration of staff or other family members who don't think they should be talking like that!). I tell people that they are going to have all sorts of "crazy" thoughts -- and I assure them that they are not crazy. Their systems are just on overload.
Throughout the process I pray with the family or with individuals as I feel it's appropriate. I am always impressed by the power of prayer -- not just for the patient but with the family. It truly is a means of grace.
Most of all, I simply try to be with my people in their pain. I doubt that they will remember much of what I've said, but I know they'll remember that I was there. And to that extent, they will remember that God was there also.
While I don't enjoy trauma situations, I've learned to be very comfortable managing them. In many situations I am relatively passive, but in traumas I tend to take as much control as the situation and the people allow. Because -- for the people involved -- so much of their lives is suddenly out of control, I want to bring as much control back into their lives as I can.
That begins with the physical setting. Are people wandering about? I try to bring them together in one room, have them sit down, and in general bring some order to the chaos they are feeling. Where possible, I act as a liaison between the medical staff and the family. Because I often have access to the emergency room itself, I will go in frequently and find out what is happening. (In major trauma centers that's not always possible.) When medical people are with the family, I try to anticipate questions or provide clarifications where I sense the family is not really hearing what is being said.
Obviously, I try to provide what spiritual resources I can. "May I pray with you?" And I pray for the patient and the family -- especially that they might know Christ's peace and protection. I don't usually read scripture in these situations. Later, but not during the crisis. It's too easy to find some proof text that they're not ready to hear at this point.
I also try to make the family as physically comfortable as possible. Does anyone need some juice or coffee?
Once the immediate confusion subsides and the family begins to settle in for the long wait, I have learned to let the various family members cue me in to how I can help. As people move about, I will often talk to people individually and give them the opportunity to let me know how I can help them. "This is really a tough time, isn't it?" often opens up a conversation. But I have also learned that not everyone wants to talk, and I try to honor their privacy. This is often frustrating to hospital staff who want me to "do my job" and "say something 'spiritual' to make my parishioners' pain go away." Of course, no one says that directly to me, but I know that's what they're often thinking. But I have found that people will let me know how I can best help them through this long process.
The simple truth is that these situations are often incredibly painful for family members, and as much as we would like to, we can't relieve them of that pain. We can be with them in their pain, but we can't take it away.
The most frequent question is, "Why did this happen?" and is expressed in a variety of ways. As gently as I can, I try to let people know that I don't know why. I think most people know that, but they need to ask the question anyway -- and I encourage them to ask even if I can't give them a very satisfying answer. But along the way, I stress that even though we don't know what's going on, GOD does -- and He will be with them. I also try to assure them that God didn't do this to them -- that He's not punishing them by harming their loved one. As bizarre as that sounds, I find that a lot of people in crisis just assume that it is a punishment from God for something they've done (or not done).
As time goes on, I talk about how angry they're feeling -- toward the person who might have caused the accident, toward God, toward the medical staff, toward the patient, and toward themselves. I let them know that God can handle their anger, and I may even talk about times that I have been angry with Him. I listen to their hurts and questions, but I don't try to respond to all of them (again to the frustration of staff or other family members who don't think they should be talking like that!). I tell people that they are going to have all sorts of "crazy" thoughts -- and I assure them that they are not crazy. Their systems are just on overload.
Throughout the process I pray with the family or with individuals as I feel it's appropriate. I am always impressed by the power of prayer -- not just for the patient but with the family. It truly is a means of grace.
Most of all, I simply try to be with my people in their pain. I doubt that they will remember much of what I've said, but I know they'll remember that I was there. And to that extent, they will remember that God was there also.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
On Advent sermons
I love the Advent season, but I've learned after 30 years on the job that there's only so much one can say about it. So I freely admit to repeating my Advent/Christmas sermons. I've said in other postings that I don't re-preach old sermons very much, but I make an exception with Advent (and with Good Friday/Easter). Oh, sure, I re-work them a bit, changing topical references, and every three or four years I will work up a new series. But (at least for me) there's not much more that I can say about Christmas that I haven't said somewhere along the line!
Just be careful with stories and memorable illustrations, because people do remember them! Sometimes I'll preface an old story with, "I know I've told you this before. . . ."
One of these years I'll get brave and just call my Advent series, "The Best of . . ."!
Just be careful with stories and memorable illustrations, because people do remember them! Sometimes I'll preface an old story with, "I know I've told you this before. . . ."
One of these years I'll get brave and just call my Advent series, "The Best of . . ."!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
More on Networking
I do a lot of networking in our small city. When I came thirty years ago, we didn't call it that. I was just trying to introduce myself and our little church to people. And one of the best ways, I thought, was to join some civic organizations and get to know some of the officials and businessmen and women in town.
A lot of people would think all of that a waste of the pastor's time, but fortunately my congregation didn't. Instead of being jealous for my time out in the "secular" community, they were generous with it. Over the years that investment has "paid off" handsomely, as some of those contacts have translated into people coming to Christ and coming into our church. At other times, having a personal relationship with government officials has made it easier to get building projects done. And because the community sees me not just as one of the pastors but as a seasoned "civic leader," it has opened a number of unusual doors for ministry to people who wouldn't normally walk through my church's doors.
Just this past Sunday a civic leader (whom I have known since he moved to town to take his position) visited church at the invitation of one of our members. She didn't have to introduce him to the pastor, since we had served together on several committees over the years and were on a first-name basis. As with so many of these contacts I have no idea where this will lead, but I doubt that he would have responded so readily to her invitation if he hadn't already known who I was.
My member's comment to me (regarding this gentleman's quick response to her invitation) was, "The Holy Spirit was surely preparing his heart!" And, of course, He was and is. What she perhaps didn't realize is that the Spirit had begun His work at least eight years earlier!
A lot of people would think all of that a waste of the pastor's time, but fortunately my congregation didn't. Instead of being jealous for my time out in the "secular" community, they were generous with it. Over the years that investment has "paid off" handsomely, as some of those contacts have translated into people coming to Christ and coming into our church. At other times, having a personal relationship with government officials has made it easier to get building projects done. And because the community sees me not just as one of the pastors but as a seasoned "civic leader," it has opened a number of unusual doors for ministry to people who wouldn't normally walk through my church's doors.
Just this past Sunday a civic leader (whom I have known since he moved to town to take his position) visited church at the invitation of one of our members. She didn't have to introduce him to the pastor, since we had served together on several committees over the years and were on a first-name basis. As with so many of these contacts I have no idea where this will lead, but I doubt that he would have responded so readily to her invitation if he hadn't already known who I was.
My member's comment to me (regarding this gentleman's quick response to her invitation) was, "The Holy Spirit was surely preparing his heart!" And, of course, He was and is. What she perhaps didn't realize is that the Spirit had begun His work at least eight years earlier!
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