@ the crossroads

The tradition of the Nelson Christmas letter continues.  This one is hot off the press & will serve as a post-Christmas letter due to my working better under pressure; there is nothing quite like writing a Christmas letter on Christmas Eve…

Take my hands, and let them move at the impulse of Thy love      ~ Frances R. Havergal (1874)

Last week my friend called and informed me that he had free tickets to the Tampa Bay Lightning hockey game.  “Do you want to go with me to the game?” he inquired.  “I can get tickets for your kids as well.”  I like free; Kristie got a much-needed break; I took the tickets (and the kids). 

As we were about to enter the St. Pete Times Forum to view organized violence on frozen water, something profound happened to my left hand.  The crowd was thick, people were pressing against one another, and I became concerned that Abbie would get lost in the mass of humanity.  I turned to her and said somewhat sternly, “You hold on to my hand and don’t let go.”  However, before I even finished my sentence her small, eight year-old hand was embedded in mine.  Abbie was already reaching for my hand as I was extending mine; she was still not ashamed to hold daddy’s hand tightly, even in public.  In fact, the same thought had been going through both of our minds in perceiving the chaos of the crowd: we must hold on to each other!

A few weeks before the hockey game, Abbie ran her hands over the keyboard of a grand piano as she participated in a Christmas recital.  She played Do You Hear What I Hear? so well that she will be playing this tune at the church Christmas Eve service.  Her hands have also spent countless hours in the past year holding a myriad of books and art supplies.  The flow of creativity seems to be endless.  Abbie is also quite the social butterfly and there are always various hands knocking on the front door wondering if she can play.

Ross is the big 10—double digits—his hands are now full.  He is continuing the journey as a Little League pitcher which requires creative use of the right hand on the pitching mound.  The ball moves differently depending on the formation of the fingers.  There’s only one rule: no curve balls….yet.  Ross also played soccer this fall.  This is a wonderful sport to get kids in shape but my main concern is that you are penalized for using your…hands!  In February I took Ross on a mission trip to Mexico so we could use our hands to help a group of orphans.  We spent several days doing simple maintenance projects around the orphanage, helping in the kitchen, and fixing numerous bicycles.  I know the trip changed Ross’ life in many ways.  

Over eighteen years ago Kristie and I stood in front of a couple hundred people in Michigan and held hands.  We also placed a ring on each other’s finger.  I am daily thankful for God’s grace in bringing us together.  Kristie continues to use her hands to serve countless people.  She teaches four year-olds in a pre-kindergarten class in Lakeland and oversees a rapidly growing preschool/kindergarten ministry at church.  She is a child magnet, primarily because her heart and her hands are full of compassion.

I am now in my ninth year as pastor of Crossroads and I have adopted this verse as my goal for leadership in the church: And David shepherded them with integrity of heart; with skillful hands he led them (Psalm 78:72).  I could go on for days in talking about what God is doing in and through the church, but the best way for you to gather information is by putting your hand over a mouse and checking out www.thexroads.org. 

As I reflect upon the first Christmas I can’t help but imagine several possible scenarios: Mary and Joseph holding hands in the darkness and thanking God for promises kept; a shepherd dropping his staff and embracing a baby; a mother holding an infant and whispering, “I’ll never let you go”; a carpenter seeing in his baby son’s hands the potential of a future woodworker. 

On that first Christmas who could really have known the full implication of the baby’s hands?  But now we do.  Christ’s hands did not just hold wood; the wood held him.  Jesus’ hands did not just drive nails; the nails went through his hands.  Mary may have said, “I’ll never let you go,” but the response of Jesus was, “No, I’ll never let you go.”  God’s pursuing grace is always primary, but it does demand a response, just like Abbie reaching out her hand a split second after I initiated movement toward her on that crowded night in Tampa.  Christ’s hands of salvation and deliverance are extended to us this day and his desire is for us to humbly place our hand of faith in his mighty hand of grace; this is a gift most remarkable.

The Nelsons pray that you will know the joy of walking hand-in-hand with your Savior in 2009!

In His Grip,

Mark, Kristie, Ross & Abbie

I came across this quote today.  The source is William Placher, a theologian who passed away a few days ago…

“The way we best show our love to the whole world is to love with a particular passion some little part of it.”

If you find yourself becoming overwhelmed with the needs in the world, bring yourself down to the grassroots level of love and focus on the small piece of land to which God has entrusted your influence.  Remember, Jesus never traveled very far from home; the mission field was within walking distance…

This past weekend I spoke to a friend who is in the process of trying to adopt a child from a developing country.  My friend told me that he and his wife needed to go to a meeting in this country to continue the adoption process; they were to leave the next day.  A few sentences later in the conversation, this friend mentioned that there had recently been deadly violence in the general area where the adoption meeting was to be held.  However, in a fascinating display of courage, my friend told me that he was not afraid because he knew that God had called his family to pursue this adoption.  The danger of the mission was overshadowed, and, subsequently silenced by the love expressed toward this hopefully soon-to-be adopted child.  In fact, I walked away from our conversation believing that the risk of the adoption journey was actually fostering a stronger sense of relational connectedness in my friend’s family.  Community was being deepened and enriched.

Community.  This is a word we throw around like a cheap Nerf football on a windy day; it’s all over the place, and it deteriorates quickly, losing its value (and consequently, its meaning).  What is true community?  Does the word simply mean relationships of any kind?  Most churches say they value community (by they way, Crossroads is one of them). 

Alan Hirsch, in his book entitled, The Forgotten Ways: Reactivating the Missional Church,  describes the difference between community (or what some would derogatorily describe as “huddle & cuddle”) and communitas.  According to Hirsch, the word communitas actually comes from the writing of anthropologist Victor Turner who describes communitas as happening “in situations where individuals are driven to find each other through a common experience or ordeal, humbling, transition, and marginalization.  It involves intense feelings of social togetherness and belonging brought about by having to rely on each other in order to survive.”  Essentially, communitas is community in adventurous, risky mission; it is community with a radical purpose.  In Hirsch’s words, communitas “describes that unique experience of togetherness that only really happens among a group of people inspired by the vision of a better world who actually attempt to do something about it.”

The church is called to live in this type of community with a missional purpose.  The early church experienced the intensity of relationships in the midst of a vicious Roman Empire; this was no country club community, but rather risky communitas, deeply committed to presenting Jesus as Lord, no matter the cost.

My friend’s adventurous and dangerous adoption process reminds me that relationships can be strengthened in the fire.  The church actually surges forward when material resources and state sponsorship are minimized.  True community flourishes when external opposition is on the rise.