Mice scurry, you know…

… so today we’re going to scurry around my cranial attic and see what we can find amongst the boxes and dust bunnies.

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I want you to remember:
Ablaze! – It’s not a program, it’s a movement.
Multi-Site! – It’s not a mission, it’s a vehicle.
LCMS! – It’s not a synod, it’s a (to quote Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes) “It’s a madhouse!!!!!!!!”

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Ooooo! Clever, clever Biz Marks crew! They’re using the ol’ “Create a need, then fill it” business axiomatic torpedoes now. The more Multi-Site Ministries they can create, the more they’ll say we need lay-ministry “deacons” to lead them!

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Here’s a quick inspiration from Consensus:

Are your spiritual numerics in a slump?
Have your small group rotations ground to a halt?
Is your liturgical pest control pooped?
Perhaps we can help!

Lutheran

Cooperative

Expansion

Farm

“Strategic Mystery Planting”

These seeds of growth are the results of years of dedicated research, mimicry, and careful cloning using mostly* Lutheran DNA. While individual yields cannot be guaranteed, we’re sure your money will be well spent. Call us today!

* at least 51% by volume

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And finally, we go Back to the Future……

A riot broke out at the 2007 LCMS Convention yesterday when a significant, but minority contingency of delegates, calling themselves “Confessionals,” arose as one and began whipping out cinctures (which had been hidden in their pockets), overturning tables, and shouting, “Get out of my grandfather’s church!” while lashing those around them. When police arrived at the scene, a man, who claimed to be the synodical president, had his hands firmly clamped over his fanny and was trying to rally his loyal district presidents around him, crying, “Protect my rear! Protect your rears!” Ack! Advance to the rear!”

When it was all sorted out, what Biblical scholars would call a “David and Goliath event” had taken place. As they were ushered off the premises, the shocked majority was heard mumbling “I knew we should have tried to pass that by-law the last time about disallowing vestments at convention activities.” With a firm grasp on the YFL sponsor’s ear, one Confessional was seen wrestling the writhing, aging baby-boomer out the door. Planting one good, swift, parting kick on the sponsor’s posterior, the Confessional bid him farewell. “And I’ve got 12 more choruses of THAT for you if you ever soil the minds of our youth with that tripe again!”

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Oh, come on! It’s my attic and I can dream here if I want.