A night away with just the girls or just the guys! To register for ManCation, click here. For GirlCation, click here. Contact Hilary with questions, hmccullough@marinerschurch.org

JHM: ManCation and GirlCation
August 7&8, separate locations, $40

We have a record number of students signed up and we need camp leaders to create great memories for our junior high students at Summer Camp this year! Contact Hilary for more info, hmccullough@marinerschurch.org

JHM Summer Camp Leaders
Aug 17-21, Thousand Pines Camp, Crestline, CA

I am with you always, to the very end of the age. -MATTHEW 28:20

I remember a college professor asking our class about the singular, unifying trait that all great stories share. After we ventured guesses, offering a lot of answers that frustrated him, he gave us his answer: “the plight of the individual.”

Note that word:
plight.
It’s about struggle and danger and misfortune. A story really isn’t a story without something that has to be overcome. The greater the task in overcoming, the more compelling the story is. So, crossing a small pond in a rowboat is a far less interesting tale than surviving in the open ocean after a being tossed overboard by massive waves.

This is why, when we tell our “small pond stories” we have to create greater drama than the truth. We have a need to make the stories that occupy our lives seem a bit more adventurous and daring, because we want to be adventurous and daring people. And at the same time, there are so many moments in our lives, where the degree of danger we’ve faced in our past or are presently facing is not merely an exaggeration for a story’s sake. We don’t make it up to impress anyone. The pain is real. The obstacles are real. The suffering has gone on too long. For a lot of us, we’d trade our capsized-in-the-stormy-seas-story for a boring afternoon in rented kayak on a man-made lake any day.

Beneath all of the suffering and the trial, is a longing. We want to know that whatever the journey may be — through all the darkness and fear — that it has some kind of redemptive value. The only inexcusable outcome of our story isn’t that the struggle lingers beyond its due, it’s that the struggle might wind up meaning nothing at all. This is where Jesus steps in powerfully. This is also where the church (the people who follow Him) joins Him in His work. We are met by Jesus in the midst of the struggle (though we often fail to recognize His presence among us) and we come face to face with the reality that God never wastes a hurt, a pain, or a trial. In some way often unknown to us and unseen until many years later, God uses the things that threaten to undo us, to reveal something beautiful and joyful that could not have been there otherwise.

This week, as we continue in our series: OH, THE PLACES WE’LL GO!, we’ll look at the places where we get stuck, some of the things that keep us there, and some of the ways God releases us from them. If you know people who are stuck, or you’re stuck yourself, this will be a great Sunday to invite them to join you.

See you Sunday,
Jeff

“In order to have a sympathetic God, we must have a suffering Savior, for true sympathy comes from understanding another person’s hurt by suffering the same affliction.”  – Streams in the Desert

We’re a few days into our family campout. This trip has been bit different than trips we’ve taken in the past. Typically, we camp in a group. Within that group, there’s almost always an experienced former eagle scout dying to show off a bit of badge-knowledge. This trip, we’re on our own — into the wilds of the California coast… at an RV park. We’re using a borrowed RV for this adventure. Which, to be perfectly honest, does remove almost all of the adventure of camping. So far, that hasn’t been a monumental loss (to say the least). Every morning we wake up warm and dry. The coffee is hot. The refrigerator is cold. So, we have to work a bit harder to find the adventure we’re seeking.

Yesterday, we hiked to a llama pasture (that is something that actually exists). We rode bikes. We played frisbee. We braved the murky waters of the community pool at the RV park (probably our greatest adventure). Today, we’ll take the long walk down to the beach. In all of it, the greatest adventure-moment came in the first few minutes after our arrival…

Because we clearly have a lot to learn about how to RV “on our own.” After setting up the power supply (which I did incorrectly, draining the RV battery within a 48 hour span) and fearing the process of having to establish a proper connection with the bathroom hoses, our greatest struggle came in attempting to lower an exterior awning. We were briefed on how to do it. My short introduction to the world of RV awnings proved insufficient. It wasn’t long before a small audience of RV’ers had gathered around to watch us figure it out. Inching ever closer, an elderly mustachioed man from Merced (a small city in the central valley whose city tagline is “The gateway to Yosemite” — which means, in other words, that the defining property of Merced is that is a place to be passed through en route to another, more significant place.) asked politely and respectfully, “Would you like some help?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He smiled.

Then, another man approached, giving us the finer points on awning wrangling. I wondered if this struggle was something these men had once experienced, or if they were instructed in the ways by someone before they ever had to publicly embarrass themselves. In any event, two things became abundantly clear in that moment: 1) I needed the help of these others 2) They knew it.

I was wounded. I didn’t want their sympathetic help. Evidently, I’m OK with the kindness of others who have “been there before” so long as it’s not directed at me. I want to be sympathetic. But, I don’t want anyone to publicly sympathize with me. Care about me. Think about my needs. But, don’t make it obvious. Perhaps, this is my greatest struggle in my own faith journey. Jesus, the sympathetic suffering savior, is wonderful insofar as I don’t have to need him. Yet, it is the humble dependence of people which marks a faith steeped in maturity.

“Ok Jesus,” I’ll learn to say,  “I guess I need you. We both know it.”

He’ll smile.

In a day or so, we’ll have to collapse the awning and head home. If the “Mustache from Merced” is long gone, I’ll have to rely on some other folks who know more than I do and who have been there before. I can’t wait to embrace their help.

Bummer.

See you Sunday,

Jeff

Bring your lunch, sunscreen and beach chair for an afternoon of fun in the sun. Enjoy volleyball, a sandcastle building contest and dessert bar! More info here.

Sunday, July 26, 1 – 5p, Doheny State Beach

High school students – join us for the most unforgettable week of your summer! You wont want to miss this! Find out more here or contact Jordan with questions.

Mon-Fri, August 3-7, Williams, AZ, $99

In Junior High Ministry we want every student to have someone who knows them and a place to belong. Camp is one of the best ways to do that! Find out more and sign up here.

Mon-Fri, Aug 17-21
Thousand Pines Christian Camp, $99 pp

“If this is your first time at Mariners… “

If you’ve ever been to a service at Mariners Mission Viejo, someone has said that to you. It’s always been the intent, the heart, and the belief of our church that Mariners would be the church for people who have either never been to church before or haven’t been in a really long time. New people, those you’ve been inviting — people who are longing for that thing they can’t quite put their finger on, they’re fearful that they won’t know what to say or what to do, or if they’ll even be acknowledged should they take some courageous steps into the church.

But, since the very first Sunday gathering at Mariners Mission Viejo, in December of 2009, there has always been a consistent voice of welcome. That voice has been Kim Alexander’s. When the church was only one theater (without a central dividing wall) and the weekend messages were by video, Kim was the first to say to the church:

“If this is your first time at Mariners…we’re so glad you’re here.”

At that time, everyone was new. Kim and a few others invented the “way we do things around here.” They created the culture. They put into place the foundation for the way we are. If you’ve ever loved being a part of our church… If you’ve ever thought, “I’m glad I have this church to be my home”… If you’ve ever thought, “I love bringing my friends here…” You have Kim to thank for a significant part in that.

And now, after lots of conversation, shared memories, laughter, and deliberation, Kim has decided to step down in her role at Mariners Mission Viejo. She plans to focus on being a mom and continue her education. As she and her husband Matt have made their home in Irvine, they’ll be making the transition out of the Mission Viejo community and back to their own neighborhood: inviting people to church who long for that “thing they can’t quite put their finger on.” Kim will continue to embody the Jesus we talk about and walk with. She’ll continue to help people who are new to Jesus find the welcome they deserve.

Kim’s last Sunday will be on August 2nd. Feel free to let her know how much you appreciate her and how much she’s meant to you and those you’ve invited over the years.

I’m grateful to have worked with such a talented, insightful, and courageous person. Kim will be missed greatly.

So to you, Kim, speaking on behalf the church: We are all so glad YOU’VE been here.

See you Sunday,

Jeff

“…He said to them, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.’ And he took the children in his arms, placed his hands on them and blessed them.”  MARK 10:14-16

One night, as all of my kids were camped out together in the same bedroom on vacation, I kissed each of them goodnight. I hugged them closely, whispered to them that I loved them. I laid down next to my youngest son and began to read a bit of a Bible devotional on my phone (I wish this was something I ALWAYS did. Usually, I’m checking my phone for ways to get free wi-fi at the airport, or how to increase the speed on the new zipline trolley we installed over my in-laws pool. But this time, I was actually doing what I set out to do every night.). Inadvertently, I triggered the flashlight as I was scrolling through the text.

The nighttime darkness was broken. A beam of LED light illuminated the ceiling fan and the room came to life in vibrant color. Before I could turn the light off, restoring the room to it’s tranquil pre-slumber state, a little hand flew in front of the light beam, casting a shadow on the ceiling. Soon, there were sounds to accompany the puppet. I’m not sure what animal or monster or person was intended, but it sprung to life. Soon another hand joined it. Then, my own hand joined it. I really could only produce a rough camel shaped shadow. It turns out, merely pressing the thumb to the index finger with all other fingers smartly aligned, produces something vaguely dromedary in nature.

Soon, the room was full of animals and birds… and laughter.

Then, after a short while, when it was time for the “wild rumpus” to come to its sleepy end and I had turned off the light, a voice in the dark spoke: “Dad, do you like laughing when you’re in bed?”

“Yes,” I said.
“Well, how come you get upset sometimes when we do it — when it’s time for bed?”
“I don’t know,” I said.

I wonder where some of the joy of being a child gets lost in the seriousness of being an adult. Something was awakened in me on the night of those shadow puppets. Maybe, as Jesus spoke about children in the Kingdom of God, He knew something about how we need a kind of lost laughter we used to know. Maybe, by being with and among, kids — no matter how foreign they may seem to us — we discover something about the heart of Jesus himself.

Next week, we start our Summer Fun Nights (VBS) day camp (5:30-8:30p) for elementary school kids. They’ll learn about Jesus. They’ll eat dinner together. They’ll laugh together. They’ll be led by caring adults who still love to wonder. There are still spots open for kids looking to join in the fun. There is also a need for 10 or so “guides” (and assistant guides) to facilitate the event. But, maybe it’s not them who’ll get the most guidance. Maybe it’s us, after all. If you’re interested, check out the link for more info.

See you Sunday,

Jeff

It’s hot… Well, hotter than it has been. Right now, someone is scanning Pinterest for a home sunburn remedy likely involving “essential oils.” Sand has become the unwelcome stowaway in car backseats after this Sunday’s recent all church trip to the seaside. Working parents of elementary school aged kids are grappling with the every-morning jealousy of the their children. Because, despite what they know about the proverbial real world, they can’t help the feeling that they’ve been robbed of an entitled three month vacation.

No matter how we approach it, summer is upon us. I have to wonder, looking out at the next few weeks of my time with family (more camping), traveling (Today, I’m renewing my favorite love-hate relationship with Texas. It’s the place where every meal is like state fair faire. It’s remarkable how much can be served fried. People are friendly. Everything deemed truly astounding by someone necessitates that he or she says, “Man, thass aw-sum!” Any gathered group addressed in the second person is ALWAYS referred to as “y’all” — sometimes as “all y’all” for added emphasis. But, never is any group of people “you guys.” Everyday, is a miserable, stifling heat that Texans seem to wear as a sweaty badge of honor. Something, I’ll never fully understand.), visiting churches, and hearing from God about the future of Mariners MV.

A critical part of that future, is a Mariners Church without a central dividing wall in our worship center. On Monday, crews began their prep work. The picture below was taken from the stage, looking out, up the aisles. Clearly, some of you have now lost your favorite seats.

This “retrofit” as it’s technically called, signals the beginning of a new era for us as a church. I guess, in a lot of ways, it’s more of a recollection of who we have always intended to be. Mariners MV is a place for people longing for the power and connection of real relationships in the midst of a life often filled with struggle. It’s a place for people wrestling with the big questions of their purpose and significance. And, foremost, it’s a place where people can discover what a life with Jesus looks like — perhaps for the first time.

It is often in participating in our collective worship (sometimes merely observing it) where apprehensive outsiders and open-minded, curious skeptics discover something that couldn’t otherwise be expressed in words. The writer, Anne Lamont says it this way about her first experience in church:

“…And this time I stayed for the sermon, which I thought was ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so raw and deep and pure that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to that feeling — and it washed over me.”

Our divided worship center is something we can grow somewhat accustomed to. Remember what it was like when you first came into the room? Remember how you thought it was crazy? Then, slowly and almost imperceptibly, you discovered ways of making it fine — another idiosyncrasy that when repeatedly overlooked through the passage time, becomes mostly invisible. But, it undeniably interferes with the ability of people looking for an authentic experience in worship. And, it unknowingly divides us — those on the inside — from each other.

I’m grateful for a church so committed to seeing this project through to the end. While there is much work to be done, I can’t thank you enough for your generosity in this endeavor. If you’d like to join in this project and have not yet done so, visit our website, select “MV Impossible Project Campaign” from the drop down menu. Or, if you have more questions about the project, please contact Wendi Kato (wkato@marinerschurch.org) to receive a packet with more details. I’m overjoyed at all that God is doing in our midst. I’m grateful to be your pastor.

I’ll be seein’ all y’all real shortly,
Jeff