June 2, 2009:

CR Attendance Record

Last night, we hit a new record for attendance at Celebrate Recovery. There were 105 people here. I spoke with a fine young family -- young couple with three children -- about attending our church on Sunday mornings. I was pulled aside to join in leading a man through the prayer of salvation and assurance. We started our new Physical/Emotional & Sexual Abuse Recovery group, to widespread support and significant attendance.

I've actually received email -- selling a book, of course -- claiming that CR and other 12-step/Christian programs offer a watered-down Gospel, or some heresy outside the Gospel. I've had people directly confront me that CR was not a soul-saving church service.

People, it is simply not true. By accepting and directly addressing addiction and other life-controlling issues, we are witnessing entire families find new life through faith in Jesus Christ. Oh, sure, a revival can pack the altar shoulder-to-shoulder for a night, but how many of those people are still walking with Christ a year later? This is real salvation, in real life, where the rubber meets the road, and it is all God's doing.

"The one who sins is a slave to sin." How many of us think that's academic? In CR, we seek God's help in Christ to address specifically those sins that enslave us, those hard-to-break habits and compulsive behaviors that shame so many of us into avoiding the call of Christ.

Many thanks to the members of Tropical Sands for directly supporting this program with funds, prayers and volunteer hours. We salute and join those brave souls who refuse to compromise or settle for less than God's best for their lives. These are the people who attend Celebrate Recovery, and they receive God's help by themselves helping others with encouragement and assistance.

CR is not a watered-down Gospel. We do not sidestep the centrality of Christ. Is God calling you to finally face a life-controlling addiction, dependence or obsession? Tuesday nights, 7 p.m. Expect a miracle. They happen every week.

May 18, 2009:

Timely Info?

Okay, so if timely information is your thing, this is NOT your favorite website. I haven't updated the blog in more than a year -- where does the time go?

We've added 21 members this year; last year, we added 49. Has an out-of-date website hurt attendance and growth? Looks like maybe not!

It's hilarious that I left a job as a webmaster and C# programmer to become a minister -- only to be seen as low-tech and internet-averse. How do I illustrate the difficulty of finding time to update the website? Easy! When someone says, "I can do it!", I say, "Great. I'm eager to see your work." Next thing you know, they're wondering where the year went as well!

Jesus said where your heart is, there your treasure will be also. I think today He might say, "Where your TIME is, there your heart will be also." Hmmm... update the website, or visit the sick? Update the website, or preach the Gospel?

Eagerly awaiting a massive web update and redesign by two or more capable and willing volunteers. No pressure, though.

May 8, 2008:

It's Crunch Time, Brothers and Sisters!

Talk about overbooking! We have the Disciples Southern District Conference May 17, the Congregational Meeting and two baptisms May 25, a Kairos Prison Ministry weekend June 19-22, the church's fiftieth anniversary celebration July 4 weekend -- and a lot of people want another week of Bible School this summer, too! And then there's that 99th annual Earnest Family Reunion at the end of July ...

Ater a season of calm, now I have three congregants in the hospital, one in rehab and another homebound.

Lately, we've been preaching a lot on the Holy Spirit -- the Helper, the Comforter, the Power of God. Guess I was preaching to myself, cause it's going to take a double-dose of Holy Spirit power to get through this summer!

April 17, 2008:

An Open Letter to the Congregation

"Among others of the Baptists, who received, and zealously advocated the teaching of (Alexander) Campbell, was John T. Johnson ... We lived together in Georgetown, and labored and worshipped together. We plainly saw that we were on the same foundation, in the same spirit, and preached the same gospel. We agreed to unite our energies ... "

With that, Barton Stone began the merger of Alexander Campbell's Baptist Reformer church movement and his own Christian Church movement in the early 1830s. The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) is heir to that tradition, a tradition that Tropical Sands Christian Church upholds with dramatic results.

Many of our new members have come from a declining and recently discontinued church in our area. It was a zealous, service-oriented church, declining only because its beloved founding pastor had to leave for financial reasons. The membership scattered to various churches. Some of them came to Tropical Sands.

These good people considered and accepted every element of our church -- its rejection of man-made creed, adherence to scripture, emphasis on Communion and the centrality of Christ. They reviewed Disciples history and church structure. They considered and accepted our views on Baptism. They even heard a few sermons. And, of course, they met you. As a result, at least 10 people have formally joined our church, and many others worship here on a regular basis at two Sunday morning services.

It is NOT a "church within a church", a nested church, or a church merger. All told, it's about 30 souls. The former members of Potter's Clay asked only to continue using the name for their weekly Bible Study, like any named CWF group or Sunday School class, and for their ongoing outreach to troops in Iraq. But they proudly declare, just as many of you do, that TSCC is their church home. They are already active participants in other TSCC services and supporters of our outreach efforts.

One of these new members shared with me recently the thrill of hearing himself say, "I'm a member at Tropical Sands!" while witnessing to an acquaintence.

Some people also stated that a contemporary music service would help them recruit even more friends and associates. Following a unanimous vote of approval by the Governing Board and Board of Elders at their February meetings, and considering growth limits imposed by the size of our sanctuary, we started an 8:30 contemporary worship service March 3. It is already a significant contributor to church growth.

Before I was nominated to serve as senior pastor, I assured the Search Committee that I would do my part to help grow this church, diversify its age demographics and honor the Stone-Campbell/Disciples of Christ values and traditions. Thank you for supporting these goals as well. Alexander Campbell and Barton Stone would be so proud! And, I'm certain that the One who said, "I pray that they may all be one. Father!" (John 17:21) is smiling as well.

Let us pray that God will give us the grace to continue accepting new people, in numbers large and small, who share our faith and values. Let us pray that issues of parking, seating, floor space, music and schedules will never prevent us from welcoming those who share our love for this church!

"May they be one, so that the world will believe that You sent Me." In the name of Him who prayed this prayer, I thank you, and I love you.

pastor joel

September 12, 2007:

CNN Contributor Roland S. Martin wrote a column lamenting that the outrage over the Michael Vick dog abuse story eclipsed that given to human tragedy stories where real people face cruelty and abuse. Based on recent experience, I was moved to send this response to Mr. Martin:

Dear Mr. Martin:

I wish I could say your CNN column, "Where is the outrage when humans are abused?", was shocking. Sadly, the shock has worn off.

As a small church pastor, I struggle to find or provide services for homeless people who come to my church for help. A 78-year-old woman and her 52-year-old daughter/caretaker live in their car because they can't scrape together first-last-and-security for an apartment. Health care professionals, area churches and law enforcement agencies are aware of the problem, but it is too common for them to solve. Local homeless shelters are filled beyond capacity. Another area church faces fines in the tens of thousands of dollars for daring to open its doors to the homeless -- and area mental health facilities send their homeless clients to that church because it is the only solution they have!

Our community is brimming with humane societies that provide free medical care for stray dogs and cats, housing in no-kill shelters and scores of volunteers to keep them pampered and socialized. Many people admit they prefer dogs to people, and it shows. Can we say Leona?

We sympathize with dogs because they are innocent, unthinking, living by instinct. Many humans are reduced to that state as well -- but we call them irresponsible, derelicts, and worse.

She's 78 years old, tired, ornery, sick, slightly senile and even a bit racist. Charities think her rude and ungrateful. Age has taken as much from her social skills as from her former good looks. Her daughter's also ill, spending all her day shuffling Mamma from one cool spot to the next, always on the lookout for cheap food, a public restroom and a place to park for the night.

When someone says, "I wouldn't treat a dog that way!", I believe them. In general, dogs get much better treatment.

Amen and amen; we are the problem.

sincerely,

joel tucker, senior pastor
tropical sands Christian church
Palm Beach Gardens, Florida
http://www.tropicalsands.org

June 19, 2007:

She fell alone, in the still of the night, dropping a major, massive branch that was one of three trunks.

My first response? "NO!" Yes, I'm a tree-hugger. I ran to the tree and embraced her fallen branch. Thank God nothing was hurt; our St. Francis statue remained standing, with just a few leaves tickling his nose. The new mailbox was covered but unbent, unscratched. The two remaining trunks still looked like a massive tree. Maybe it's not too bad, I thought.

Then, I looked into the split, into the rotted, whispy heart of our mighty oak. There wasn't much wood holding that massive branch in place; perhaps the bench itself tipped the scales, until that last raindrop hit the branch.

She just split under her own weight, the victim of age. Her beauty, those low-flung branches that had grown so massive, was also her downfall. And yes, it's a fatal blow. Sadly, she's in a public place. Were she isolated in a forest, she might have time to heal, or to slowly rot and crumble slowly away. But, as it stands, we must either remove the tree or rope off the grounds for the next several years.

I fell in love with the grounds of Tropical Sands Christian Church many years ago. Such a massive, shaded, nutrient-rich forest surrounds this church that its name seems like a joke; there's no sand at Tropical Sands! It was always cooler by far here than anywhere else, thanks to those soaring oaks and their deep shade.

How foolish we were. We planned and replanned improvements to the park, all centered around that tree. We were just a decision or two removed from a lighting scheme that was solely based on illiminating its branches. How foolish we were.

Who can forsee the last day of an oak tree? This one showed no outward signs of trouble; its bark looks fresh. It rains acorns year after year. Its leaves are lush like a summer salad.

But the split reveals a spongy, multi-colored core. Thank God no one was here to see its demise first-hand. What a sound that splintering wood must have made!

Or, maybe not. The limb seems to have more settled than fallen, barely breaking the earth on which it landed. The park is filled with twisted branches. Soon, it will be littered with green leaves and sawdust.

Farewell, old friend. If we could save you, we would. You will be fondly remembered in thousands of photographs. We will remember our children climbing in your branches, our young lovers flirting in your shade, our pastors pondering life's mysteries at your feet.

May God forgive us if we cry for a tree. May He give us the wisdom to protect those that are left. May He make them strong, and give them such a life as He has given this massive oak.

I fell in love with a forest, but I married a congregation, and I wouldn't trade one person for a dozen trees. May God continue to bless Tropical Sands Christian Church -- the grounds, and the building, and especially the people.

June 8, 2007:

I probably don't have many blog fans, but the few I have are likely watching to see when I will get personal with Grampa's graduation to glory.

The Rev. William R. Tucker, my literal grandfather, died May 24. He was 98. He was a lay minister for more than 50 years, serving little country churches in Alabama that usually couldn't afford a full-time minister. In retirement, he held a couple of full-time positions -- at Fairfax Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and Plant City United Methodist Church, both in the Valley area of Alabama. He was out of circulation for a few years while his wife was ill, and when she died in 1997, he started spending more time here in South Florida. It didn't take long to get him going again, pulling the Gospel plow.

The last 10 years of his life have also been among his most productive. He preached here at our Saturday Log Cabin Gospel Sing every week while he was here, which was most of the year, and he also preached at Christian Manor and occasionally at our Sunday morning service. He preached four or five times at Okeechobee Correctional Institution, a prison. Sometimes, we booked him to preach three times in a single weekend, and it was always three different messages. Everywhere he preached, the novelty of hearing a 90-something preacher was quickly overshadowed by the actual wisdom and insight he brought to the scriptures.

Grampa was a plain-spoken man; that's probably his largest contribution to my preaching style. He trusted his own understanding of the scriptures, and that's as it should be -- scholarship and study of anything but the Bible itself are as likely to cloud as to clarify the simple content of the Bible.

Whenever people said to Grampa, "God told me to tell you something," he'd always reply, "God and I are on speaking terms, thank you very much. If He wants me to know something, He can tell me Himself." Once, when friends visited him in the hospital and said, "Can we pray with you?", he said, "No, thanks. I've got it covered." And that's just how it was; there was no middleman between Grampa and God.

A lot of you heard Grampa preach, but not many of you ever saw him charm an animal, anything from a skiddish lizard to an ornery mongrel dog. He was genuinely willing and able to be friends with anyone he met, and many of you were recipients of that friendship. That's not to say it was all on him; there were certainly people who thought he was too old, or too country, or too uneducated to be worth their time. That was their loss, as most of you know.

Grampa was an ancient man for my entire lifetime. There's nothing like a Grampa to make a 50-something feel like a kid. He loved children and they loved him back. He always lived on a shoestring, always spent his time and effort making or finding gifts for other people. He tried to give away everything he owned, and he never got sentimental about a physical thing, no matter how old or valuable it was.

You don't want to hear that he wasn't perfect, but he wasn't. He had his share of frets and doubts and an imperfect memory. He had a grand sense of his own place in God's plan, and it took time for me to appreciate it and see it. He did have a grand place in God's plan, and if you didn't see your own place in that plan, that was your problem. He never saw himself as above anyone else, but he didn't hold back on enjoying his own place in God's kingdom. Like they say, it ain't bragging if it's true. And if you saw your place as being just as close to God as his, Grampa would be happy to agree. He was the best illustration of the fact that if you put God first, you love others more, and not less.

The last pastor at this church heard Grampa speak once, at a home Bible study, and put him to work in a pulpit right away. Grampa was our backup, our associate pastor, and he did a great job, too. Another preacher I knew wouldn't give Grampa the time of day, but his ministry was a flash in the pan.

"God doesn't have any grandchildren," Grampa would say. He never told me what or how to preach, and I never imitated him -- not like I ever could, anyway.

You can drive a truck through the hole in my life that Grampa leaves behind. I've rehearsed his death a thousand times, because he has always been an ancient man who couldn't last forever. Still, I was starting to wonder, and hope.

Someone actually said to me, "I don't think you understand what that man represents. You're too close to it." I could spend the rest of my life cataloging Grampa's theology, character and viewpoints. For 50 years, Grampa and I were on good speaking terms, thank you very much. There was no middleman between Grampa and anyone. His view of God was both more expansive and more intimate than anything I've ever heard or read outside of the Bible itself.

I won't even try to be Grampa, but I do wish every Christian was more like him. We'd have a much better reputation.

January 28, 2007:

Very cool.

We finally broke ground on the new church sign. Everybody seems to approve of the design and location. The rain held off until after the outdoor ceremony was over and all the equipment was back inside. Very cool.

"You really do have a direct line Upstairs," a friend said. "The rain holds off until it's over."

"Not me," I said. "God just likes you. That's all."

And I really do believe that. I think my ministry is going smoothly because God loves Tropical Sands Christian Church. People who stay are staying for the church, for their friends, to be a part of something special. Me? If anything, I'm the reason those who quietly slipped away are no longer here. Not many, mind you, but I miss every one.

Come home, children. Your families miss you. Don't let some random preacher run you off. Think of it as an exercise in forgiveness. That sermon only lasts a few minutes, and then we can get down to the real business: Music, communion, fellowship, service.

... and hey, there's hope. I think he's mellowing as time goes by ...

January 17, 2007:

I used to think it was odd to see a pastor wearing glasses. After all, if God loves the pastor, and the pastor loves God, and the pastor understands the Word of God, shouldn't God protect or heal his eyes?

I guess I still have those questions when I see depressed pastors, overweight pastors, grumpy pastors, sick pastors ... It's a stupid prejudice, and it's a prejudice that kept me out of the ministry for years. After all, if I were a pastor, I'd be a grumpy pastor, a swearing pastor, a sarcastic pastor, a doubting pastor ...

So now that I'm a pastor by trade, I'm still fighting to be a real pastor. I'm no longer a smoking pastor, less often a swearing pastor, a somewhat less doubtful pastor, and publicly a slightly less sarcastic pastor. And I wonder if I'll ever be a real pastor.

Come to think of it, I guess I've never met a real pastor. Those that are otherwise perfect are at least smug about it. Or maybe pastor is the role, person is the reality, fallen is the state, and trying is the task.

So maybe it's OK to say I'm an exhausted pastor. Celebrate Recovery is now underway, every Tuesday, and it takes two workdays just to handle the physical logistics of hanging signs, setting up rooms, writing schedules and duplicating literature. And to top it all off, nothing goes perfectly, even with days on end of prayer and effort. Computers freeze up, copiers jam, leaders misread signals, and names of people I've known and loved for years just slip my mind. Private meeting rooms have semi-private walls, and whispering volunteers sound like invading hoards to that intimate circle of confessors in the next room.

Last night's lesson was on Denial, and it was my job to give the group lesson. What am I denying? I'm denying fatigue, still playing God and kicking myself for being frail and human. Yesterday's a worship service, today's a newsletter, tomorrow's a stack of financial reports and a guest appearance, then it's two days of getting ready for the next service.

Pastors aren't supposed to talk like this. We aren't supposed to admit weakness, decry schedules or confess doubts. A real pastor is a cheerful stoic, basking in the love of God 24/7 and falling effortlessly into one revelation after the next.

Next time you see a pastor in glasses, consider doubting Thomas, denying Peter, clinging John, the ambitious sons of Zebedee and that beaten, boasting Paul with the mysterious thorn in his flesh. Pray for them all, and give thanks to God that He is able to accomplish so much, even with such weak material.

October 4, 2006:

We're starting a "Celebrate Recovery" ministry at Tropical Sands Christian Church. Soon, we begin our 90-day countdown to the event, which is tentatively scheduled for Tuesdays at 7 p.m., beginning January 9, 2007.

In preparation for the event, we're holding a prayer meeting at the church every Tuesday at 7 p.m. The praise team will practice -- bring your ear plugs! -- and everyone who wants to be involved will gather for prayer as we seek God's will for this ministry.

My startup prayer is that the church will take possession of this ministry, support it and participate. It's risky, because many of the people being served will be from outside the church. It will be a different style of worship, and it will completely consume the church grounds and resources once a week.

On about November 10, I'll be looking at everyone who wants to be involved and making the initial leadership and group facilitator assignments. We're praying that God will help us select the right leaders, and I'm praying that those selected for training will accept that role and take it as God's preparation for something great. I'm looking for experience, preferably Celebrate Recovery group leadership experience, and I think I'll have more volunteers than positions.

The Body of Christ has many parts. Everyone can't be a hand, or an eye, or a group facilitator. I plan to make sure everyone trains an apprentice, because I expect this ministry to grow with more meetings and more small groups.

Please pray for this ministry. It's entirely new for Tropical Sands Christian Church. It fills a vital need in our community, and many of us feel God's call to offer this ministry. It is the largest leadership task I've ever had, and I don't take it lightly. I just have to trust God to give me a servant's heart, to choose carefully, train diligently, guide gently and delegate generously.

We will need many servants for setup, counselling, serving, ushering, etc. If you want to be involved in this ministry, please send email to CelebrateRecovery @ TropicalSands.org.

August 9, 2006:

Summer's almost over, and the family vacations are winding down. We had 93 people in church Sunday, thanks in large measure to several first-time visitors. Everybody says the sermon was ok, and who am I to say?

I'm surrounded by books and musical instruments, swamped with things to do and starved for time. The Good Book beckons, but I have a sermon to write and grass to mow.

No, that isn't how it should be. I could toss every book I have but one, and I'd be perfectly satisfied. I'm sorely tempted to do that -- and make more room for squeezeboxes and ukuleles!

Time is like a bookshelf: There's only room for so many volumes, and no more. I scan the library; I don't have time to count them, much less read them. Looks like more than 500 books; a few on psychology, but mostly theology. 500 books about the Bible! That PLUS 30 Bibles!

Three pastors gave me their libraries, and each had received a library from someone else."The Servant of the Word", "Wrestling with God", "The Baptism of the Holy Spirit", "Fox's Book of Martyrs", "An Introduction to Pastoral Counseling", "7 Practices of Effective Ministry", "Jewish Social Life", "Antagonists in the Church" ... If I read every book on the Bible, I'll never have time to read the Bible, and if I read every book on preaching, I'll never have time to preach!

I don't mean to disrespect the grand tradition of the studious pastor, but really! I think we need a moratorium on book-writing in Christendom, a year in which we honor the Holy Bible by publishing NOTHING about it or that might compete with it. If I never buy another book, I surely have a lifetime of reading on my shelf. Actually, if I toss everything but that original $10 Bible, I'll still have a lifetime of reading to do, and all the instruction a pastor needs.

So thanks for all the books, everyone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my first love.

June 29, 2006:

Five years of Associate Ministry is past; the first six months of senior pastorship is behind me; I've been full-time for three months; the installation happened a month ago.

I think it's fair to say I'm no longer the "new" pastor at Tropical Sands Christian Church.

I was talking to a friend earlier today about the nature of God's hand on our church. Six months ago, I was still in a "yeah, right" frame of mind regarding moves of the Holy Spirit. I was willing to acknowledge God's benevolence and its application to our church, but that's about how I put it -- in big words that tend to impersonalize God and His will.

Now, I say flat out that God has His hand of guidance on this church. He leads people to pray at just the right time for people they barely know with needs they can't possibly know. He brings in money at just the right time, targetted in a way that makes it clear that He knows our needs. God is good, and His hand is on Tropical Sands Christian Church.