 Sometimes the little things that make the difference. One of the privileges of being pastor is that I get to see many little things every single Sunday in worship. I hope you are seeing them, too. Lately I have seen…
…a 99 year old member of our congregation who has excellent attendance entering our sanctuary by the front steps.
…a young couple who brought their 8 week old daughter to church for the first time, feeling that the adventure was a success.
…a church member who returned to worship for the first time since having back surgery, and is a blessing to his friends and pastor by his presence.
…a young couple with infant twins who gave our Wayne Street Nursery a try for the first time with happy results.
…visitors from all over the nation who worship every week at Wesley Monumental, always remarking on your hospitality.
…so many children running down the aisles for the children’s sermon that it is getting very crowded around the chancel rail.
…a choir loft that is full most weeks, with two new choir members in the last few weeks.
…visitors attending worship because you have lovingly invited your neighbors and friends to come to Sunday School and church with you.
…a young couple expecting their first child joining our church after first being attracted by the radio spots our church sponsors (Morning by Morning) 5 mornings a week on the top 2 young adult radio stations.
I could write so many more examples, and I suspect you could describe many as well. These vignettes contribute to making our worship time Spirit-filled.
Is it a “little thing” that you attend worship on a weekly basis? Never! I hope that it is the most inspiring part of your week. Each person contributes something very important to our weekly service of worship. I’ll see you this Sunday, with eyes wide open.
Creede Hinshaw
|
I never cease to be amazed at the lengthy shadow of John Wesley. Perhaps we United Methodists associate the Wesleyan influence primarily with the United Kingdom and the United States. Far from it! Today I write about east meeting west in Savannah, Georgia.
Yesterday I met a Korean Baptist pastor here to film a documentary on John Wesley. Grillmeister Richard Glendinning was cooking hamburgers for college students on our new church grill and I was trying to figure out how to sneak one for myself when a man walked past us displaying the look of a curious tourist. Offering my help, he said he was a Baptist pastor from Seoul, South Korea, in town to film the story of John Wesley. We chatted for awhile and he suddenly motioned for his film crew (Korean cameraman, Korean script writer and another Korean Baptist pastor) who had been waiting in Calhoun Square. The cameraman photographed the two of us walking down the steps of the church and filmed the inside of our beautiful sanctuary as we reviewed Wesley’s Savannah ministry.
We spent a memorable hour together, sons and daughters of John Wesley and brothers in Christ: a Korean Baptist pastor explaining to a transplanted United Methodist Hoosier how he loves British Anglican John Wesley. And well he should…the Korean Christian Church is growing exponentially, based largely on the strength of small groups where Christians grow and pray and sing together…the genius of John Wesley taking root in Asian soil.
We exchanged business cards and I pointed my new friends in the direction of Wesley’s statue and parsonage on Reynolds Square and towards Christ Church where Wesley served as priest to the colony. This Korean documentary will never receive the publicity of Robert Redford’s soon-to-be-released Conspirator (where the Espy House is transformed into Ford’s Theatre), but my guess is that God will use the labor of one cameraman, a script writer and two Baptist pastors for greater glory and deeper purpose.
I’ll see you this Sunday, where God never fails to surprise!
Creede Hinshaw
|
I’ve never searched for lost sheep; don’t know the ins and outs of how to go about such a task. Did the shepherd in search of a wooly wanderer set out joyfully or with a sense of begrudging faithfulness? Was there a sense of exasperation, a hopeful expectation or both? Would it be tempting to conclude that 99 out of 100 is not a bad percentage? Maybe just chalk up the one prodigal sheep in the category “inventory loss”?
Having some experience looking for stray cats and temporarily liberated gerbils I must confess that my search-party sentiments were not always the most joyful during the search. Pets always seemed to get lost at inconvenient times!
As for the cats and gerbils, I was never able to ascertain whether they were glad to be found or whether they would have been happier maintaining their temporary freedom. But perhaps I’m the one who is now straying…
This Sunday’s text (Luke 15: 1-10) is all about being lost and getting found. In these interesting verses we encounter would-be saints and red-blooded sinners and somehow get the impression that it might be a lot more interesting to be with the latter group than the former. Who is lost? Who needs finding? Are there pre-conditions to being “eligible” to be found? And who’s in charge of the search party, anyway?
Before you come to worship, read Luke 15: 1-10. Then remember a time when you were found. How did it feel? In the gospel story, there is no mistaking the emotion of the shepherd who found the sheep: it was sheer joy.
P.S. In case your GPS isn’t working these days, just find your way to Abercorn Street and head north. We’re the first church you’ll see when you come to the first square in the historic district. Red doors and plenty of newly found people.
Creede Hinshaw
|
Guess who left Rome on the same day as Bonnie and I? None other than Colonel Muammar Qaddafi, the unpredictable leader of the North African nation of Libya. This nation, an Italian colony for 30 years, sits just a short jump from the heel of the Italian boot across the Mediterranean Ocean. Colonel Qaddafi, followed by the ever present paparazzi, strolled through the same piazzas recently habited by Alex, Bonnie and me.
Two years ago Libya and Italy signed a friendship treaty. Italy apologized for its colonial attitude and pledged millions of euros in reparations for the next 25 years. In return Libya is pouring oil money into Italy, staunching the flow of illegal Libyan immigrants into that nation and giving Italian companies preferential treatment in commercial relationships.
Who cares about this, you ask? And in some ways I agree, although Qaddafi’s ham-handed effort to convert Italian women from Christianity to Islam might make one take notice. But if Qaddafi’s trip had been anywhere other than Italy I surely would have ignored it.
One member of the Pont Sant’ Angelo Methodist Church told me that her first hand experience with Americans is that we are sadly lacking in international perspective. I have heard this before from citizens outside the United States. We Americans have a poor grasp of world geography and a marked disinterest in international news. It is as if we can only see things from within the context of our own national boundaries.
To some extent this phenomenon is understandable. We are thousands of miles from most other nations of the world. We do not need to be conversant in multiple languages to live our daily lives. Furthermore, we are the most powerful nation in the world. Perhaps we secretly harbor the notion that other people must understand us, but not the other way around.
Having returned from a Methodist congregation that, though small, was international in membership, and having spent a month among the Italian people, I am more aware today that Americans must cultivate an appreciation for and understanding of the peoples and nations of our globe. We live in one world.
I look forward to being with you once again this Sunday!
Creede Hinshaw
|
"ALONG THE VIA"
Wesley Monumental United Methodist Church
27 Agosto 2010
The days are speeding by so very quickly. Soon we will return to Savannah to be with you and involved in your lives again. God has blessed us so richly here, and we pray that we have been of use by God for the small flock of the Methodist Church of Pont San Angelo. I type these words from the parsonage of this congregation, breezes blowing into the flat from the Tiber River. Every night we sit on the rooftop terrace surveying Rome, enjoying the full moon, admiring St. Peter's Basilica bathed in light just a few blocks away.
Today we we had two very moving experiences. First we took a bus to the Catacombs of Priscilla, where early Christian martyrs and even 5 early popes were buried. The popes wanted to be buried there because they wanted to rest near the martyrs. Even a pope could recognized that those who die for their faith are in a class all of their own. Not only was this visit inspiring, but the temperature in the catacombs, well beneath the streets of Roma, was 13 degrees Celsius, somewhere near 58 degrees.
Then we visited a tribute to Mother Theresa. Yesterday (August 26) was the 100th anniversary of Mother Teresa's birth. Observances are being held all of the world in her memory. Last night we attended a mass in her honor, presided over by a cardinal from the Vatican. Although much of it was in Italian, we understood the Great Thanksgiving and prayed the Lord's Prayer with the congregation and also passed the peace. A chorale sang movingly in English and Italian. The exhibit we saw today reminded us of the utter humility and servant heart of this tiny woman, used of God, who received over 700 honors in her life, including the Nobel Peace prize, all because she followed Jesus.
This Sunday will be our final Sunday with our new Methodist friends in Rome. We have much to say to them. After one month in their midst, our parting will be sweet sorry. Then we will return, joyful, to be with you again. We will have much to share with you over the coming months.
Creede Hinshaw
|
“ALONG THE VIA”
Just a note to let you know we are having a wonderful time here in Roma. Two dear British friends arrived last night and our son Jeremy and his wife Brandi will arrive in an hour or so. Since Bonnie and I have already been here 9 days we can show them around like real experts!
Here is one thing I miss about the United States...it is something that might surprise you. It has nothing to do with food or convenience or ice in the drinking water at restaurants.
What I miss is having lost the ability to make "small talk" with shop keepers or other pedestrians. To be sure, I can mispronounce a couple of words of Italian, which always leads to hilarity on the part of the Iocals, who usually reply in English right away. But to be able to say to other people, "It's hot today...why is the bus so slow...isn't that a lovely sunset..." is a pleasure we rarely consider. God has made us to communicate, even if some of our conversation is pleasantry.
And so I will look forward, upon returning to the States, to greeting the lady at the dry cleaners, checkout clerks at the grocery and tourists in the beautiful Savannah squares. And I am grateful that, though separated by miles and oceans, I can communicate with you. You remain in my prayers.
Well, our British friends have boiled up a spot of tea, so I'm signing off for today. I rest assured that you are in God's will and that the staff of our congregation are serving you well and faithfully.
Creede Hinshaw
|
As Bonnie and I settled into our airplane seats last Monday afternoon the flight attendant offered me a selection of newspapers. Taking the New York Times, I was startled to discover - on Page One, Section One - a story about clergy health (and lack thereof). Written by Paul Vitello and headlined "A Break From Work is Healthy (Even if it's the Lord's Work)," the article documented what I have long known: we clergy as a group are pretty unhealthy people.
Citing statistics from a Duke University study of 1,726 UM clkergy in North Carolina, the clergy have significantly higher rates of arthritis, diabetes, high blood pressure and asthma. Obesity was 10% higher in the clergy group. The article focused on the need for clergy to take sabbaticals and vacations.
So there I sat, reading this article on a jet taking Bonnie and me to Rome for an entire month. Now I am writing these words overlooking the Tiber River, windows to our flat open and a cool breeze blowing into the 5th floor. The English speaking Methodist church where I will preach this Sunday is 4 stories below us in the same building.
Following in the footsteps of Alex, Bonnie and I have explored the city over these past few days, getting lost in the charming and narrow streets more times than I can remember. We have eaten pasta, pizza and much gelato. Now I turn my attention to this Sunday's sermon.
I debated about whether to send this weekly message. It's a little bit more work than I want these days! But we want to stay in contact. I can't guarantee I'll write something weekly, but consider this a postcard from Rome, sent with love from Bonnie and Creede. You have been so gracious in your eagerness for first Alex and now the Hinshaws to experience time away from Savannah. I know your worship service at Wesley Monumental will be stirring this week, and thank you in advance for your prayers for the Methodists in Rome.
Creede Hinshaw
|
|
I found myself inspired right on the asphalt parking lot at Best Buy last night. Yep, right there with the 90 degree heat and the shopping carts left carelessly in the middle of the lot.
I was headed inside to buy a new camera to take with us to Rome (so I can show you 800 photos when we return.) But before I could get inside the store I glanced into the sky and stopped in my tracks. The most glorious cumulus cloud was suspended in the heavens, the color of ripe cantaloupe. The cloud appeared to be miles high, the outlines puffy like cauliflower florets, glowing in the most incredible orange hue. I stood there in wonder.
Psalm 105:4 (in Robert Alter’s fresh translation) says,
“Inquire of the Lord and His strength,
seek His presence always.”
I have been trying to live by that verse these days…to seek God’s presence always. The goal would be that – by day’s end – one should be able to review many ways in which God has become visible.
And so, on Thursday evening, July 29, which was the 100th anniversary of the birth of my father, I saw a glorious cantaloupe cloud crowning the day. Thank you, God, for your strength and your presence.
P.S. I look forward to being with you this Sunday, August 1st. We are keeping Alex in our prayers as he preaches a second Sunday in Rome. Bonnie and I are almost packed and will be leaving Savannah on Monday.
Creede Hinshaw |
Bonnie and I recently returned from a trip to Washington, D.C. where we attended the wedding of the grandson of Hamp Watson (former senior pastor of Wesley Monumental). John and Greta got married on the Potomac River in a beautiful evening cruise.
While in Washington we toured the United States Capitol, home of our Congress, the branch of government closest to the people. Each state has the privilege of erecting in the Capitol two statues in tribute to native sons or daughters. Can you name Georgia’s two honorees? (See next to last paragraph.)
I wish I’d had time to study each statue; it would have been quite a history lesson. Some statues were immediately recognizable: Ronald Reagan, George Washington, Dwight Eisenhower, and Jefferson Davis. But most of the men and women represented could not be identified without the name beneath the statue. Many of these persons are icons for a particular state or region, although some of them made a difference for our nation and world. Five Native Americans (Po’Pay, Sequoyah, Sakakawea, Washakie, Sarah Winnemucca) are memorialized in this group.
I was impressed with the number of statues commemorating religious leaders. Father Damien, one of Hawaii’s honorees, was a Belgian Catholic priest who gave his life in the service to the leper colony on Molokai. Marcus Williams was a physician and Methodist missionary who with his wife Narcissa helped settle Washington. Washington state’s other monument pays tribute to Mother Joseph, a Catholic missionary who founded 11 hospitals, 7 academies, 5 Indian schools and 2 orphanages in the Pacific Northwest. She was also the first architect in that area. Hers may be the only figure in the Capitol depicted as on her knees in prayer.
Father Eusibio Kino, born in Italy and a missionary with the Society of Jesuits, established mission schools throughout the Desert Southwest. This scientist, cartographer, astronomer, explorer, historian and builder is remembered by a grateful Arizona. His statue seems ironic, somehow, considering how he was one of the first “illegal immigrants” to enter that territory.
Other persons with religious backgrounds include Roger Williams (Rhode Island), Jason Lee (Oregon), Brigham Young (Utah), Jacques Marquette (Wisconsin) and John Peter Gabriel Muhlenberg (Pennsylvania). One can find sketches of all 100 honorees on the internet, including photographs of each statue.
Georgia’s statues commemorate physician Crawford W. Long and Confederate States of America Vice President Alexander Hamilton Stevens. A bust of Martin Luther King, Jr., designated “a hero of this nation” is also proudly displayed in Statuary Hall, authorized by Congress.
I’ll see you Sunday in our sanctuary where we give praise, honor and glory to the One who cannot be depicted by stone or metal.
Creede Hinshaw
|
I want to reflect this morning on what is unique about a downtown congregation. Why will people drive from the suburbs and beyond to find their way to Calhoun Square, sometimes scrambling to find a parking space?
There are many answers to this question. Today I want to explore one of the most obvious: there are no new churches being built to match these historic downtown congregations.
The architecture, the stained glass, the spires, the pews announce that the downtown church stands within that larger tableau of the salvation story instead of as a new congregation that might be very contemporary but has no sense of place yet. The downtown church conveys a sense of continuity with Christian history. The downside of the traditional setting, of course, is that the downtown congregation is in constant danger of being frozen in one particular era. But the urban congregation, in its setting and with its building, if there is a proper sense of past, present and future, can offer what few other congregations have.
One interesting confirmation of this truth comes in the wedding requests we receive from couples who attend other churches right here in town. Some of them worship in a church building with theatre seating and a weekly praise band playing in their auditorium, but when it comes time for the wedding, they want a pipe organ, stained glass, an altar, a setting with permanence and gracefulness. Wide screens and folding chairs just don’t convey that feel.
Stone, glass, wooden pews arched ceilings and a pipe organ cannot preach Christ crucified. Or can they? Though few of us would rank a physical setting as the most important way of spreading the new creation, upon reflection, the physical setting of a church can powerfully testify to the love of God in Christ Jesus, in a sense communicating the truth of Jesus’ words, “If you were silent, even the stones would cry out.”
I’ll reflect more in weeks to come about the uniqueness of the downtown congregation. I suspect you have your own observations about this subject, too. Let me know what you think, either by email or at our incredibly lovely and grace-filled church on Calhoun Square.
Creede Hinshaw
|
|
|
