pat loughery

For some reason, the new church plant in town makes me very jealous. I wish I were joking about this, but my heart gets tweaked. They’re being planted out of a megachurch to our south; they’re extremely well-funded, their first preview service drew 100 people, they’ve got a full band already, they have a good, young pastor, about my age (have you noticed that “young” is always directly relative to your own age?).

I’m genuinely happy to see growth in the other churches in town, but somehow I just feel competitive, envious, jealous of this particular plant. I wish them well, I know that they’ll grow, etc., but my heart struggles for its own reasons – like a need to measure success by attendance, or influence, or … well, you know. And if you don’t, thank the Lord. Seriously.

Last week I ran into the planting pastor in the grocery store and had a quick chat. They’re moving to weekly services this weekend, he tells me, got an ad announcing it in the paper, etc. And for some reason, that big ol’ green monster in my sarx just went NUTS. I didn’t look at the paper; I didn’t want to fan that feeling into flames. (Hey J, if you actually stumble across this and read it, know that it’s not personal, OK? Totally my own issue).

This morning, when I awoke and was trying to get centered on Christ and not my own issues, I was reading Psalm 68. And the end of the psalm really grabbed my attention, particularly this part:

v. 35(b): the God of Israel gives power and strength to his people.

Something about that siezed me, and I threw myself upon it. The only way I could beat back this shameful feeling is through the power and strength of the God of Israel, given to me.

And I had an idea.

I left early, went over to the place this church is meeting, pulled just as the other pastor was pulling in and asked to help set up. I didn’t tell him why I was inspired to do so; I just offered to help. When I met other folks on the setup team, I didn’t tell them I pastored the church down the street. I just spent about 45 minutes putting together their stage, packing speakers and guitar stands, etc. Getting sweaty, with no benefit to myself.

By the time I had to leave, my head was screwed on straight. The Lord reminded me of Matt 20:28:

“[…] Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave– just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Something about serving that church, praying blessing and fruit and favor as I carried stuff, broke me and set me free. Thank you, LORD!

And, on a practical note, I realized that they’re a very different church than I want to be. They’ll do a great job with polished presentation, with powerful dramas and lights and sound, they’ll hit their mark; they’ve planned well and will execute well. But as I’m discovering what I really want US to be, I realize how different it is than this model. Their model is great. Their model will probably always grow a bigger church than we will be. I think I’m OK with that.

So I went back to our building, set up a minimal environment. We’ve had a big snowstorm in town, the roads are iced over, and here in Seattle that means that everything stops. So we had us, and one other couple – very faithful, very good people. Five of us. Our regular worship leader and our emergency backup were both staying home. I didn’t prepare a set yesterday. So we popped in the new Dwell DVD and worshiped to the title track on the small group setlist portion of the DVD. I told this story to them in lieu of a sermon. We talked together about what is happening in our lives. Shannon, not having to do kids’ church for the first time in a long time, got to share what’s going on in her heart right now. We prayed for each other. It was a holy time.

Then we turned the TV on, got some food and watched the Seahawks-Packers game from halftime through the end. Well, I guess the day couldn’t turn out perfect, could it?