Today is our website’s 11 year Anniversary. I know this because the hosting site just wished me a Happy Anniversary. How many words have I written here in 11 years? Most of the early ones are the audio recordings of Sunday messages – I didn’t write much, then. Maybe I’ll go back and read my first blog post…I did, it’s called New Year’s Revolution, and I liked it. The way I see things changes, but my style of writing really doesn’t. Anyway, Happy Anniversary to the Bridge website!

This faith community has existed for 13 years and 6 months, and I have not missed 1 Sunday. (I suppose it’s possible that I’m wrong about that – you know, when you write or speak in public, you have to be careful because there are quite a few who are happy to point out mistakes. I’m not lying. I truly don’t think I missed 1.) My vacations are during the week, I spoke when I was sick & without a voice, for the past 13 years, you know precisely where I am at 10:30 on a Sunday morning. As far as that goes, since I fell in love with Jesus 27ish years ago, I would guess that I haven’t missed more than 10 services. It’s very important to me (18 year old Chad would be shocked & horrified to hear this. He’d probably be shocked and horrified at a lot of who he is at 50.)

I am 64% sure I’ll not be there this coming Sunday. But this is not a decision I’ve arrived at easily.

If I miss, it’ll be for a basketball game. All of my youngest son’s weekend games are on a Saturday, except for 1, this one, which is on a Sunday at 1 in the afternoon. The school is a couple of hours away, so I couldn’t do both. We all have choices, right? I teach often on the concept of weight: what weighs more to us? To reference Jesus, do we rest on the Sabbath or pull our donkey out of a hole (which is NOT rest, as commanded in the Law) on the Sabbath? What weighs more?

[Actually, I’m almost 99% sure now, because I now know how this post is going to end.]

I have a humongous problem with Sunday morning activities, including (especially) sports. Do we really have so little regard for church services, and spirituality in general, that we can’t keep even one morning sacred?? Of course, that answer is yes, sort of. Collectively, as a nation, we don’t have “so little regard,” we have NO regard. That’s why I often refer to the true religions of our culture as sports and politics, because they are.

So, on principle, I do not want to go. It is my rebellion against a culture without a clue.

A bigger reason I don’t miss is, very simply, I love the people in my church family. (Maybe calling it my family sounds a little cult-y, but that’s not my problem. Family is more than blood relation. You are my family, and I look forward to seeing and wrapping my arms around you.) I miss you when you’re not there, and I would miss you if I wasn’t there. So I choose to come and, that way, I don’t have to miss you.

Ok, why would I go, then? My son doesn’t live at home, I miss him, and I want him to look in the stands and always see his dad. (I think I told you, I want to be a person who is taken for granted, because he’s always there, always shows up, consistently is the same safe place. I’m not, but it’s who I want to become.) We have been blessed beyond reason to have the time raising him, I don’t want to miss a moment of it. This is a season, he won’t play basketball, he won’t be in college, forever, I want to soak it up.

It’s also beautiful to illustrate that it is our community, full of leadership and responsibility.

So, what weighs more? It’s very, very hard. Either way, I will think of, and miss, the other. If only I could do both. But it’s at 99%, why? The scales are pretty much even, why 99%? I’ll tell you (even though I’m not thrilled to admit this… I have this policy of oversharing and vulnerability, even when it makes me look, well, not awesome. Oh well, honesty, authenticity in/about my own transformation, weighs more to me than superficiality, so this is what we get: a very long post;)

I keep referencing how I have never missed a Sunday. Some of that is me apologizing and making pre-emptive rationalizations. But there isn’t any way around it, the bigger piece is a mixture of pride & shame (which don’t sound compatible, but usually arrive together.) I am proud of this, and I must think it reinforces my resume, somehow helps to make me ‘enough’ to have the honor of being a pastor of a community like this, and a minister of the Gospel.

This happens, sometimes, and when it does, I go back to the beginning and dismantle all arguments & lies that lead me away from the Truth: that I am already enough, that if this honor was based on my performance, pride, and perfection, I would have already had the privilege, the call, revoked. My pride has always been super silly. All of this is His. All I am is His. And I remember that by taking a wrecking ball to each false, hollow structure I have created, as I encounter it. This is one.

I’ll be at the game. Maybe it doesn’t actually weigh more, but what does weigh more, to me, is exposing the lies in my head, and choosing His Truth, choosing to come home to who He says I am, instead. I’ll miss you like crazy.