Learning to Lead

In the midst of deepening my knowledge of the Bible, the complications of theory and theology, our pastor left the church. Being a pastor's son, I knew what it was like from the other side. You pack up, stow your stuff in boxes, and make new friends that will last until it is time to move again. I did not know anything about what it was like from the church's standpoint.

As an observer to the process, I got to learn much about the process. I saw first hand the struggle to figure out what type of pastor the church wanted. It is often exactly opposite from what they actually need. Nothing in the process is foolproof. I saw the mistakes being made clearly. But it was not my place to worry about this.

Several months into the process, I was appointed the position of Moderator of the business meetings. What I did was keep control of the business meeting and bring order to the process of doing business. I took this job seriously. I wanted there to be no bickering, back biting, or other problems that sometimes arise in churches. I wanted a Christ-like atmosphere in conducting our affairs. This was actually very easy. The church was fairly congenial, mostly in step with one another, and full of hope for the future. Most of the votes didn't even have an opposition. The process was almost flawless.


Except for the pastor selection.

Churches don't always do well when they lose a leader. They begin to bleed members. The void begins a power struggle. The whole process might lead to a collapse of a young, unprepared church. Fortunately, most churches survive the whole process no worse for wear. They pull together to make the best of a situation.


Once the pastor entered the ministry field, things stopped moving as smoothly. No, there were no fights, stabbings or gun play. We still had little opposition in the business meetings, but the ill feelings built in the church. The pastor left after only a matter of months.


Running a Church

With the void in the leadership roll, a small committee was formed. Known as the Administration Committee, we were charged with handling the needs of the church normally handled by the pastor until one could be found, finding someone to lead the services until a pastor could be named, and be available for any emergencies that might arise. AS you might have guessed, the other people on the Administration Team were two of the missionaries that had been in the class with me those few years ago. The process had come full circle and I was now operating with them as an equal.

Well, not really. They had done this many times and looked at the job as a chore that needed doing. Not that they didn't do the chore willingly and with great joy, but it was simply old hat to them. For me, however, it was all new.

As I mentioned earlier, I am the son of a pastor. I knew the inside of a pastor's family and the headaches and problems that come from leading a church. So from a small corner of my mind, the place I try to hide all the stuff I really would rather not re-live, I dragged out what knowledge I had in order to be a productive member of this group. They may have had more experience, but I was going to make up for that with enthusiasm and perseverance.

continued tomorrow.

Preparation for Ministry

Lay ministers are unique people in that they are not formally trained, as in seminary and other post secondary schooling. They take their training where they can get it. I am no exception. I learned about the work by reading and studying, and by listening to those people who had learned from normal channels.

One great learning experience came in the form of a particular Sunday School class. When my wife and I had been attending a church for a while, we decided God had planted us there. Well, actually my wife decided God had planted us there, and we joined. Shortly there after, my wife began to teach a Sunday School class of toddlers. Needing a place to sit for Sunday School time period, I chose a class and sat in.

I hadn't thought much about my choice, only to reason which one was closer to the smoking door and which one might be small enough that I would not have to worry about being called on for anything. Classes this small don't have class picnics or do any mission work.

The choice was fortunate in that in the class were three theological doctors and me. Out of the four people, three had PdD's in theology, seminary training from well known Baptist institutes, and were returned missionaries from foreign lands. These were people well versed in starting churches, being pastors, and scripture. I had my own bible college placed before me.

Each Sunday, the class held large discussions of topics ranging from the origin of the world to who wrote the books of the law. Philosophical questions were dissected like frogs, measured prodded and poked. Subjects that seemed to confrontational to discuss in public were regularly batted about without any animosity. I spent many hours during the week reading the bible just to keep up with the discussion. I studied, not because I thought it prudent, but because I hate to out of touch with any discussion. I wanted, no needed, to be part of this process.

After the first year, one of our members moved on. And then there were two doctors and me. His leaving concerned me. I thought the whole wonderful experience was over. We would sink into those old time Sunday School classes we all dread and avoid. I was trapped. We no longer had that three legged chair for me to sit in. It was just a two legged chair. We all know how that works. I went anyway. I had to do something to fill the time my wife was teaching the toddlers and while my son went to his class.

A funny thing happened to me on the way to the class. God grabbed me by the leg and dragged me to His proverbial lathe. He spun me, tossed me, and cut some crude but functional grooves into me. I became a rough and ugly chair leg. I needed grooming. I needed smoothing. I needed polishing. But, for once in my life, I was steady enough to support a young Christian in our group.

I spent a year in that class while the two guys left began to fine tune my knowledge. They began to feed me more than meat, they fed me rich desserts. With the basics learned, they drilled me on some of the finer details of Christian life and how to pour out what I had learned. As the second year ended, I looked much like the other two legs, just less seasoned and inexperienced.

The third and last year, I found myself surrounded by other people. I no longer had the luxury of being the only student. The room was filled with people similar to me when I entered the group. we lost another leg to a class who needed a teacher, leaving us with just the one professional. To my great surprise and joy, he brought his wife into the teaching. for the first time in my life, I was being taught about Christ from a female perspective. I saw the side of Christ I always missed. It was like adding depth to my view of Christ. I could always see the male side. I had the vision of what a guy thinks of Christ, but seeing God from a woman's perspective allowed me to visualize God's whole experience.

Now, do I think these guys planned this? I don't know. I never asked. you know, the whole horse's teeth thing. Do I think God planned it? You betcha! Nothing could have prepared me more for my future jobs than the training I got from these four people, people who today don't fathom their involvement.

preparation continued next time.

Not For Me!

Walking Naked For Christ! This only happens to Old Testament prophets. God only requires us to do things like pray, read the bible, and sit in the back row of church. Nothing in the rules I was living by mentioned anything about becoming a part of a ministry team at a nudist church.

But God has a way of taking a normal existence and turning their world upside-down. Here I was, content to sit in that small church and heckle the pastor, evoking a new and most specific frown from both the pastor and my wife. God's plan, a plan I object to vehemently, contained many good and precious ideas for reviving the church and it didn't include the present pastor.

Before we get too far in this discussion, I want to point out that this request from God has precedence. In Isaiah, God commands Isaiah to remove his clothes and preach to the people of Israel. He walked in his ministry for three years naked as a statement to God's people to repent and leave their evil ways.

I never considered myself to be a prophet. My gifts seem to lie in the apostle category. So finding a place in my world to be a nudist pastor didn't seem to be such a great idea.

God, however, had been grooming me for this position for some time. My family had been nudists for years. At our home, nudity was the normal situation. I was working with several groups learning the business of a church. Finally, God opened the door for my wife and I to become members of a nudist resort near our homes where we would finally begin our mission.

This blog is about the struggles, fun, and drama of being, "Naked For God."