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Reflections from Rev Brad Kenney, Director of Soccer Chaplains United and the Lead Chaplain of the Colorado Rapids and Valor Christian High School

While You Are Sleeping (Probably)

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If you’re in the Mountain or Pacific timezone, than it’s likely that next Sunday you will be sleeping when I am presenting at the 3rd Global Congress on Christianity and Sport. At least from the initial schedule of speakers, the session time slot for my presentation will be 11:30 am Cambridge time (4:30 am for my wife and children), Sunday, August 21. My presentation? The Sports Chaplain as Captive: Issues of Pay and the Differences Between Preaching and Peddling the Gospel. What can I say, I like long titles…

It’s with some mixed feelings, if I am honest, that I look forward to next week’s session. It’s at the end of the congress (will people stick around or will they have been headed out to catch the flight home?) so that may mean a smaller group in the room. Part of my emotion also has to do with my daughter getting ready to leave for college and only having a few days remaining by the time I get back home before we pack the car and try to set her up for her next chapter in her life’s adventure.

But regardless of the number of people in the room, I think what excites me has been the work of preparing for this presentation and the study in the Bible to get to the point where I am landing. Sometimes in this moments you submit an abstract or a thought about where you are going to end up going — there’s a process of development, I’ve learned. And even after a presentation, you can often get people coming up and helping add meaning and value to the conversation because they heard or say or interpreted or experienced something different than you have — so you have to hold all of these things loosely and still handle the text (especially Scripture) really well.

I share my abstract with you here:

Tension exists for chaplains in sport — the majority are unpaid, volunteers (Paget & McCormack, 2006). This characteristic necessitates chaplains have other meaningful vocational work or fundraise support, both activities detracting from the chaplain’s work. Should sports chaplains be paid? Or, is there a conflict of interest in chaplains leveraging privileged positions or exciting experiences to earn an income or wage? 

The apostle Paul, writing in 2 Corinthians 2:14-3:6, defends his work and ministry, self-identifying as a “captive” led by Christ and contrasting his work with “many” others who “peddle the word of God for profit.” Paul, previously (I Cor. 9), defends the right of pay for those who “preach the Gospel.” So, then, is there a balance to be struck? If so, what is that balance?

This presentation will reflect theologically on the Corinthian texts, Paul’s meanings and example — offering practical ramifications and considerations for sports chaplains.

I am keenly aware that this issue is a bit “niche” if you will — but it’s the space where I am working and developing (sports chaplaincy). Probably some of what I am learning and studying has applications and ramifications outside of such a narrow window, but I have been amazed at some of what I have been learning and growing in as I go.

Special thanks goes to Dave Schoeman for his help in getting to Cambridge. I’ve come to be blessed by Dave and his wife, Barbie, as they have encouraged me and pushed me to reflect well on this subject and what it might mean for chaplains in sport.

I look forward to seeing some old friends and meeting some new ones in a week’s time, even though you will probably be sleeping. 😉

Sincerely from the Rev,

Rev Brad Kenney

Rev Brad to Preach at Creek Next Week

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It’s not often that I preach a Sunday morning message at church — it actually never has been. As a hospice chaplain for some four years, and a pastoral care pastor for six my main moments of speaking or preaching have tended to revolve around a funeral or memorial service. Well, hopefully, next Sunday morning’s opportunity to preach at partner church Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church (located in Denver, Colorado) won’t feel like a funeral or memorial service!

A week ago, one of my daughters asked me how work was going.

“Well, there’s this sermon that I am trying to study and write and prepare for…” They could tell that it was weighing on me. I tried to explain that while it is a tremendous honor and privilege to be invited to preach at church, and especially at a church where you worship together as a family, that there is a weighty burden that often accompanies it (as it should) because we are handling and disseminating the very Word of God!

Add into this the very simple fact that I rarely preach (maybe x1 a year, every other year) and I have been telling people — you get what you pay for! There’s a pressure and a burden to deliver “your best sermon ever.” Think of the pressure, you went to seminary (even though it was 20 years ago) and you learned Hebrew and Greek and homiletics; you’re in ministry; you’re an ordained Teaching Elder in the denomination…should be a breeze right? Well, if I were crafting a podcast or writing up an article for the website or coming up with a 5-10 minute devotional for the team it’s a totally different story. But this sermon prep stuff is hard! It’s not what I am used to.

I shared some of this with Rev Kevin Hasenack (Rapids 2 chaplain) this past week when we met to discuss and debrief some of the Rapids chaplaincy needs. “I have a refreshed respect for you doing this week in and week out…” I told him. It was funny as he commiserated and even said — “Yeah, you probably feel like you have to hit not only a home run, but a grand slam!” What was funny was that as Kevin said these very words, a guy outside the coffee shop made a swing-for-the-fences motion that caught my eye. He did this a few more times as Kevin went on with his baseball metaphors, which made me laugh.

But for all of my complaining (and believe it’s likely to get worse as the week goes on and the moments approach), I am reminded of Paul’s charge to his young protégée, Timothy:

Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage — with great patience and careful instruction.

Paul, 2nd Letter to Timothy 4:2

So I am readying myself — TBH, I probably wish it were more like a podcast or simple prayer and blessing — I’m much better at that it seems these days. But I pray that God is glorified and that for those listening and in attendance next week that the text of Acts 8 will come alive and that we will all be challenged by what God has to say — to me and to those I share with.

Sincerely from the Rev,

Rev Brad Kenney

From the Rev: Salvaging St Martin

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It has been awhile since I have undertaken the pastoral writing mode of the From the Rev genre. So much of my time is now spent in writing for podcasting and the production of such. But this past week Saint Martin of Tour’s feast day (Thursday, November 11 – also known as Veteran’s Day or Remembrance Day) is slowly starting to become a rhythm of rest for me as a chaplain. I usually take the day or couple of days surrounding 11 November to retreat and reflect on ministry and life. I call these times the Founder’s Retreat — Saint Martin being the “founder” of chaplaincy in the 4th century.

In certain spaces and epochs, chaplains and chaplaincy has been fraught with controversies and questions as to appropriateness, legitimacy, constitutionality, as well as methodology and much, much more. Different contexts, wherein a chaplain may exist, bring unique aspects of the arguments and concerns around validity of the chaplain — so much so that the chaplain often must dwell somewhere amidst the vocational tension of flourishing to non-existence. Hospital, military, sport, or other contexts each come with their own set of challenges.

Even amongst one’s “own,” the chaplain can be seen as second-class clergy. The chaplain has no parish, per se. The chaplain serves an ever changing people – no real flock or people of constancy, usually. The chaplain must straddle the sacred and secular divide much more so than the typical clergy person. There is a beauty in that but also a difficulty, as well. Different context have different requirements. For example, a hospital may require board certification and other post-seminary training regimens; meanwhile, the hospice down the road may require alot less. Different faith traditions latch on to chaplaincy with different endorsement and processes for credentialing and certifying. Some less developed and less formalized branches of religion may have minimal requirements for a chaplain to pass muster. Perhaps the muddling of the waters or approaches and attitudes of “anyone can be a chaplain” doom all chaplains to be considered less than the ordained clergy of the high church denominations.

Despite all the challenges the chaplain faces — from the secularized institutions where they serve to the dogmatized denominations from which they tend to emerge — the chaplain must not lose hope. The chaplain must find some way to salvage the heart and spirit of Saint Martin. Who, in the course of everyday life and duty, found some way to serve, found a way to cover and clothe a person in need; someone vulnerable, someone marginalized, someone unseen and forgotten by the surrounding world.

If I am honest, the past two years of my ministry of some 20+ years of ministry have been among the most difficult. I wonder how Martin dealt with the forced conscription into military service. Perhaps it felt like a mask or vaccination mandate back in those times. Martin was born during a time in which the Roman Empire was undergoing, yet again, more change. Constantine the Great was coming into power and he had begun reforming the empire before Martin’s birth. Christians were not brutally oppressed and persecuted as they once had been. Still, though, some things still remained — and because Martin’s father had served as a tribune (a senior officer) Martin was also forced to serve — no religious exemption existed.

There is debate around the period of time that Martin served as a soldier. Some accounts mark his service at 5 years, some longer. But a pivotal moment comes when Martin, after having been baptized, can no longer continue his military commission. It is said that with Julian coming to power, Martin, on the eve of a battle in Germany, refused his military pay and refused to submit to the authority of Julian (a non-Christian emperor) saying, “I am the soldier of Christ; it is not lawful for me to fight.” Charged with cowardice, Martin was put in prison. In response to the accusation, Martin offered to go to the front unarmed — however, the battle never happened as a treaty of peace occurred and Martin was discharged.

I would be curious how the end of Martin’s military service felt. Shame? His family had long been servants of Rome and privilege to the benefits afforded. Much to the chagrin of his father and mother, his military companions of whom he had fought alongside of — I imagine that it was not easy for Martin to leave such a life to exchange it for one of serving God and serving other people.

Martin leaves his military commission

Certainly, Martin’s life and story are likely romanticized. I only know Martin in a historical vacuum. Dependent upon loyal historians with an unascertainable bias — where is the line between fact and fiction? But we can see and note the changes that Martin went through — a potential rejection from his family because of his Christian faith and beliefs, a forced military service, a military retirement/discharge, a transition from career military to career clergy. Unlikely that such changes were any easier back then than they would be today.

And still, Martin serves. Still Martin takes the cloak off his own back — not just once, but time and time again. It is in this spirit that the chaplain must continue. The chaplain may face opposition from both sides — secular and sacred, and still we must salvage something of that heart of service that Martin offers as an example to us, an example which is borne out of the love of God. An example which perseveres in the midst of mandates and forced conscriptions. An example which carries forth in spite of questions of constitutionality and clerical authority which swirl around. An example which endures through tests of time and travail.

And God willing, we will do so,

Rev Brad

From the Rev: Lessons from Eyam

The BBC storyline reads, “Did this sleepy village stop the Great Plague?” Whilst the 2015 BBC story is merely a travel story about the small Derbyshire village, there is perhaps more to Eyam (pronounced “Eem”) that we might learn and apply to our modern-day Coronavirus situation. Especially for Christian persons, there are some important people and important lessons to learn from this tiny little village and its path through plague and hardship so many years ago.

By now, most of us have seen the match imagery of stepping out or removing one’s self from the path of a virus or disease. And, while, different countries and governments are responding differently to the spread of COVID-19, many are looking to the past for a path forward through uncertain and unknown times. There are lessons being revisited from the more recent epidemics of SARS, MERS, and Ebola. But let us go back some nearly 400 years ago, and learn from Eyam.

The Outbreak

I am no historian and it’s probably easier to go read the Wikipedia article on Eyam or visit the Eyam Museum itself. Suffice it to say, that this English village had an outbreak in 1665 when flea-infested cloth from London was delivered to the tailor of the village. A small village at the time, Eyam’s population of a little more than 350 people was decimated over the course of the two years of enduring the disease, some 267 people died. If you visit the village church, you can see the book where their names are recorded.

I snapped a picture of the recorded names of those who died during the outbreak while visiting St Lawrence parish church in Eyam in 2016.

The People

Most credit the decisive action of the town’s Church of England priest, William Mompesson, as playing a huge role in the village’s response to the Great Plague epidemic. Before social distancing was a popular catch-phrase, Mompesson and other town leaders decided to enforce a quarantine — no one in or out of Eyam. Mompesson and his wife, Catherine, sent their children (healthy at the time) to go live in Sheffield for the time being. William had actually wanted his wife to go, but she was committed to remaining at William’s side to help serve her fellow neighbors during the epidemic.

Catherine Mompesson’s grave, decorated with a wreath, stands as a reminder of Christian love and service in the midst of great hardship and loss.

History also records another name famous in Eyam — Elizabeth Hancock. She buried her husband and six children, over the course of a week, during the outbreak. The town leaders had established some ways to try and limit the spread of the plague including families burying their own dead and using a different gravesite, instead of the church graveyard.

Steps Taken

I’ve already mentioned some of the steps taken, but additionally, the village of Eyam setup boundary stones — as a way of warning and keeping people within a particular boundary and keeping outsiders from encountering the plague from the village, itself. Here, people from the outside would deliver different food and supplies and resources for the village without having to come in contact with the village. There were appointed times and deliveries.

Mompesson is also said to have filled a well with vinegar. This was primarily used for any trading that the townspeople needed to do. They would dip coins into the well to pay for the supplies, the thought was that the vinegar would kill off the disease and prevent the spread.

Each August, there are a number of “well-dressings” throughout the English country side (Peak district) where artisans use different local flora and natural materials to tell a story or paint a picture tied that town’s history. Pictured here is a well-dressing from Eyam, I’m not sure if this is the well that Mompesson poured vinegar into or not. There are a couple of wells in Eyam.

I realize that history will probably forever debate whether the steps taken by William Mompesson and others did any good, but for a people who did not have the technological advancements and resources of our day, you can see that they did what they thought was best to try and limit the spread of the disease.

The Lessons

So, what does this got to do with us anyway? I try to often connect what I write about to those persons of faith and also a connection for football and family. So let me share just a few lessons that I believe we see and learn from Eyam.

A Lesson of Love

Perhaps the greatest lesson that stands out to me is how several of the people of Eyam live out the texts of John 13:34-35, John 15:12-13 and I John 4:7-21. William and Catherine Mompesson choose to stay and serve their neighbors. Another minister, Thomas Stanley, was part of the efforts to lead and to serve. Even the “unofficial village gravedigger,” Marshall Howe — continued his service throughout the epidemic. In all that they did, recorded and unrecorded, seen and unseen, we can see and know that they did so out of love.

Jesus gives the “new command” in John 13:34-35, also known as the love command. That command, to love one another, cannot be simply made through mental assent. That command goes beyond “social distancing” and other personal safety precautions. The command to love one another is about sacrifice and it is modeled by Jesus who made the ultimate sacrifice for each of us. And that love (that Jesus gave for us) rightly understood, motivates us to love others — not just in greeting card fashion, but in real, tangible ways.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

John 15:13, NIV

The lesson of love is a lesson for us today during the COVID-19 pandemic. Will history record this as a Great Plague? We do not know. That is not the point. But the response of Christian people during this time needs to be one of love. Love in practical ways. Love that serves fellow neighbor. A love that stays in the midst of the troubling times. A love that doesn’t exhibit fear or panic, but demonstrates the all-encompassing, peace of God.

Stained glass in the Eyam parish church tells the story of The Great Plague and it’s people.

Do I need to write out practical ways that this ought to happen? The loving thing to do may be keeping one’s self at distance, or respecting orders put into place (even if we might question effectiveness, etc.). Or, the loving thing may be leaning into a particular need, point of service or request for help. The loving thing may be paying wages to the one who is employed and under your care. Each one of us will need to listen carefully to God in the ways that we are to love during this time.

A Lesson of Hope

Within the history of Eyam during The Great Plague, there are lessons of hope that we can take away. We can see it within the lives of the village people and the actions of the leaders. The Mompesson’s sent their children away — they wanted their children to have a greater chance to remain healthy and to live life. They had hope that the plague would eventually pass and diminish. They had hope that life might carry on and the children could return. They didn’t know that they would never be able to say goodbye to their mother.

Elizabeth Hancock eventually left Eyam and went to live with a still-living son in neighboring Sheffield. The grief she carried with her was undoubtedly immense and many accounts said that she “fled Eyam,” but I think it important to see that she went to be with her son. She didn’t give up on life. She didn’t give up some sort of hope that life could still be had in the face of so much loss.

There are other stories — some less known — that exist as one simply walks down the streets of Eyam. Plaques outside of homes and tablets and memorials inside Saint Lawrence, tell the stories of others.

A plaque outside of one of the “plague cottages” of Eyam tells of the former inhabitants and their deaths. The memory continues on and they are remembered annually, here in 2016 with a colorful keeping of the front garden.

But there are two forms of hope that we see in Eyam — a hope for tomorrow and a hope for the future (eternal). Christian people must live and be people of the here and now and people of the time which is to come. We are travelers on this earth — but our hope and treasure (and eyesight) must be lifted higher to that time which is to come. To the eternal and to being with Jesus in heaven.

The boundary stones that Mompesson and others used to set the village apart were not going to be an impenetrable boundary for the rest of time. But they knew and believed that they needed to isolate and separate themselves until a later time. Even within the time of quarantine, the life and activity of the village didn’t necessarily cease — trade still happened, fields were still plowed, ore was mined, cotton and silk weaving was still happening.

Even love and relationship continued. Perhaps one of the tragic love stories of this time was between Emmott Sydall and Rowland Torre. Betrothed to one another, they continued to meet throughout the plague epidemic, but kept distance from one another — Emmott’s family having contracted the plague and not wanting Rowland to catch it as well. Their story is depicted in the stained glass image above (lower right corner) and has been revisited and told in various different media and forms.They continued to meet, continued to love because they held hope that the plague outbreak would pass and they could be together, again.

A Lesson of Faith

Also within the story of Eyam is a lesson of faith. During this time, it is said that the village turned to William Mompesson for guidance and leadership in response to the plague epidemic. I don’t know that many people in the world today are looking to the church — and this may be more culturally and time-nuanced, but Mompesson and Thomas Stanley took up the reigns of leadership. They demonstrated a faith in God and they exemplified this to the people of Eyam.

One such step of faith, was continuing to hold worship services throughout the epidemic. While the decision was made to hold services in the open-air as a precaution against putting the ill in too close proximity to those who were healthy, the decision highlights a simple truth: in times of physical sickness and disease, there is still a need for spiritual nourishment and refreshment.

The interior of Saint Lawrence parish church Eyam 2016. Empty as it would have been in the years of 1665 and 1666 when the church held worship services outside to try and prevent further spread of plague.

Mompesson and Stanley would have both likely been impressed with the words from Hebrews 10:23-25, which says,

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

Hebrews 10:23-25, NIV

This passage — mixed with words of hope and faith, serve as a reminder that even in the threat of disease or other times of difficulty and discouragement (for the recipients of the letter of Hebrews it would have been Roman persecution) that the people of God, the followers of Jesus need to keep gathering and getting together. They need to remind each other of the hope that they have that is beyond this world and all that it holds — this is an essential part of Christian faith.

Perhaps you, like me, have walked or driven by some large church building in the past couple of weeks. The building(s) sit empty for the most part — but this is not The Church! The Church is comprised of the visible and invisible — those true believers, in all the world, for all time. Part of the visible Church today is God’s people gathered, assembled for worship and mutual fellowship, encouragement, service, and spiritual growth . The Church is made up of people, not bricks and building materials (no matter how ornate or common).

In Closing

Friends — faith, hope, and love. The most important lesson from Eyam, the love shown and the love that we ought to show. If you are a follower of Jesus, if you are a person with faith in him, then the outflowing from that faith and hope and the love the we have received makes all the difference in the world and to the world. The result will be a bright shining in a dark world, a worthy example. It will be the way that the world, in the words of the hymn, “know we are Christians…by our love, by our love.”

I take a selfie in front of a historic, 8th cent. Celtic cross in the Saint Lawrence parish church graveyard. (Eyam, 2016). The cross reminds us of Jesus’ ultimate act of love — the giving up of his life to reconcile people back to God.

Sabbatical

One day left. As I write, I have one more day until I go on sabbatical. To confess, I am nervous and afraid. What if…? is the question that most hounds me.

What if people don’t understand? What if people don’t agree? What if people need me? What if the organization, the ministry, the work tanks? What if…? And that’s not just all.

What if I don’t use the time well? What if I don’t encounter God? What if I am unable to find rest and renewal. What if…?

Lisa Fotios at Pexels

I podcasted earlier this week some thoughts on sabbath and sabbatical. As I have been explaining to people, even to my own family — God gave us instructions to rest (people and animals) every week. And God gave instructions to rest (the land) every seventh year. I’ve been at it for nearly 20 years (am I 3x overdue?). I am not a farmer — but my vocation is similar to that of one: there is tilling, planting, cultivating, watering, and harvesting elements to my work.

Binyamin Mellish at Pexels

I wish I had more stories of farmers who actually rested their lands in those seventh years. What happened to them? What happened to the land? Did they survive? Did they crash and burn? Did they and the land flourish?

I recall someone — either a seminary professor or in a book somewhere — stating that there is no evidence that the nation of Israel ever obeyed the command to allow the land to rest every seven years. No evidence! Gulp!

I have known some pastors and ministers to go on sabbatical only to wind up leaving the ministry altogether when they returned — perhaps they were too burned out and the engines never were able to reignite. I have some of these questions as well — I have been going at such a high pace and rate for so long now, how do I slow down? How do I shut off? How do I disengage? (and then how do I get going again?)

Some have wished me well. Some have wondered what exotic location I will be off to or have encouraged me to have a great “time off” — no, it’s none of this. It’s got to be different. It’s not a vacation. It’s not a stay-cation. It’s not _______. But then again, not having ever done this, I can’t quite really say what it is either.

Pray for me. Pray that I find good, soul rest. Pray that I have meaningful time with God. Pray that my spirit and soul awaken to the new thing that God wants to do.

Sincerely,

Rev Brad Kenney

100,000 Faithful

Last week, I had the terrifying privilege of trying to change a flat tire on Southbound I-25 near Denver, CO. With each pass of a semi truck or vehicle, the wind buffeted the car while I fetched out the spare tire and jacked up the car for the first time in my memory. I needed to look at the owner’s manual to even understand where the spare tire was on the vehicle. I also think it is the first time in perhaps 15 years that I have had to change a tire and, I am thankfully still alive.

Driving to the tire shop, I arrived — discouraged with the setback, but grateful no harm and no further damage other than the tire. I sat in with the tire shop employee. We looked at the similar tires to replace with. I asked him, “When were the tires purchased?”

“May, 2012. It was with 196,000 miles on the car. How many miles do you have now?”

“295,500”

“Wow! I have never seen that. These tires are rated for 60,000 miles.”

“I think God had something to do with it,” I replied.

As I sat waiting for the tires to be put on the car, I couldn’t help but constantly give God praise. 100,000 miles. God’s faithfulness over those miles — no accidents, no scratches, and it took an I-25 bolt puncture to take down my tire and literally force me into new ones (to be honest, I feel I could have gotten through maybe one more winter with them).

I later overheard the shop sales guy telling the technician — “Can you believe this? This guy got 100k miles on these tires!”

The longer that I am on this faith journey with God, it is more and more the testimony of His faithfulness to us. Some people pray for the better job, the better home, more resources or means. But in my experience, God does this amazing thing for His people — where the treads on the tires last longer, the insurance premiums are low because the family is healthy, and more and more examples.

Now don’t get me wrong — I am not espousing a “health and wealth” gospel here. I am not saying, “If you just have enough faith…” or “If you are good enough….” But what I am saying is the ways that I have seen God be faithful to me and to my family, even in the midst of our need. It reminds me of God’s faithfulness to the people of Israel in the midst of their wilderness wanderings. In Deuteronomy 29:5, God reminds them,

During the forty years that I led you through the wilderness, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.

The Lord God, speaking to the people through Moses

I don’t wear sandals much. But, tires, well that’s a different story.

It’s not just the tires, though — I have seen God make a lot of things “last” longer for me and my family — clothing, jackets, shoes, furnaces, hot water heaters, and more. And I can’t explain it. I can’t sit here and tell you that my faith is better or stronger. I can’t say that I am less sinful. I can’t say that I am more honored by God than any one else. All I can say is, “He (God) is faithful, even when I am not. Praise be to God!”

Praise God that His faithfulness is not dependent upon my own.

Praise God that He takes care of His people.

Praise God that He is so good to me.

Praise God for 100,000 miles (and more) of faithfulness.

Blessings,

Rev Brad Kenney

From the Rev: Remembering Junior

This past week, Ghanian football forward Manuel “Junior” Agogo died in a London hospital at the age of 40. As I watch the different tweets and acknowledgments come from different clubs and teams that Junior played for, and as news outlets produce similar sounding stories, there is a sad feeling inside. While we might say “kudos” for the different clubs acknowledging Junior, how many with those clubs and news sources even were around to know him?

I knew Junior. Serving as an assistant for Public Relations for the Colorado Rapids, I met Junior when he came to the club in 2000. He was an exciting, dynamic player. I remember his quickness — it surprised many in the league and he scored several goals from his sheer pace and beating defenders to the ball. You can get a little taste of Junior from this archived article by Terry Frei of the Denver Post.

Junior was a few years younger than me. Born August 1, 1979 our birthdays were just slightly more than a week apart. For the past number of years, I have always made an effort to reach out to Junior on his birthday — a customary part of my chaplaincy. And, if I cannot find or communicate a particular player or staff member on that day, I make it a habit to pray for them and their family on that day.

Today, though, as I sit and reflect on Junior. I want to share a few distinct memories.

Lifting Junior

When Junior was with the Rapids, he would always like to show off his muscles. He was cocky and a bit of a braggadocio. He did have a strong upper body. I recall the fitness specialist back then telling him that he lifted too much. But perhaps his love of exercise was why, later in life, he opened his own fitness club in London where he did physical fitness coaching and training.

One day when Junior was in for a lift, I recall the banter starting to fly between him and a teammate and somehow, I got roped in.

How much can you curl?, he asked with a curious grin.

Man, I just did bicep curls yesterday, I replied. Leave me out of this.

Naw, c’mon. Just askin’? Heh, heh… I should have known that trademark Junior laugh, he was going to egg me on until I got suckered in.

I can hold my own. I tried to get around it a bit.

I don’t remember much more of the dialogue other than, soon, we had each grabbed 30 lb. dumbbells and were challenging each other back and forth. For the next ten minutes, we were trying to outdo one another. I think I only managed two curls with the 50’s and he started laughing his head off as he finished out 12 reps.

Heh, heh, you’re weak! Or something like that, came from Junior as he fancied himself.

I told you I lifted yesterday. I’m spent! But it didn’t matter. I had been “Juniored.”

Losing Junior

Now recall, I was only the assistant PR guy. But even in my low position in the front office, the PR guys were the liaisons between the front office, the players, and the media. Junior was with the Rapids just for a short time, but even I knew that he had developed a bit of a reputation. This was always a bit of tough thing for me. And in those early days, I struggled with the darker side of sports. And to be honest, I was largely naive. It didn’t take long for people to talk about Junior and his struggles. Teammates whispered. Coaches rolled their eyes. Management got into closed door meetings.

To be honest, even now as a volunteer team chaplain, there is often little that I know about what way athletes get into — until it gets picked up by TMZ or unless someone confesses their indiscretion or sin (and sometimes they do). I wasn’t serving as a chaplain when Junior was with the Rapids, so he never knew me in that particular way. He might have noticed my Christian faith in other ways. I don’t recall any particular conversations with him, though I had conversations with others in the team, back then.

I really liked Junior — he was funny, bright. But I know that there was another side to Junior. And there was a part that was filled with hurt and pain. Maybe it was being so far from home. Maybe it was his desire to excel. Maybe it was the pressure

A few years after I began serving as the Rapids volunteer chaplain, I felt God impress upon me,

What about those that have come before me? How do I serve them as chaplain now, today?

Even for the players and staff that didn’t know me as chaplain (or didn’t know me at all), I felt that I needed to keep reaching out. I need to some how pursue them, to let them know that they weren’t forgotten. That God remembered them. God cared for them.

From that point on, I started to collect birthdays. I would reach out and contact people — whether they were here when I was a chaplain or PR guy or before and I would introduce myself, offer support, and let them know that I was praying for them, for their families, for the work.

But I couldn’t’ find Junior. He was lost (at least to me). I tried reaching out to him, but his email and contact info was dated. Many times when athletes and coaches from overseas come to Major League Soccer they get an American telephone number for a temporary time before they return home. But I kept trying. I kept reaching. And then I came across the website for a fitness club that he had bought into or owned. There was a form field to reach out via email, and I sent a message.

Finding Junior

Now, Junior didn’t know me as chaplain with the Rapids. I re-introduced myself. I asked how he was doing. He told me about the stroke that he had suffered. I wish I had held onto the email. It would be a treasure for me, today. I told him that he was in my prayers. Perhaps, though, I took it for granted — I thought that one day, Junior and I would see each other. In a gym or coffee shop in London. I didn’t know, but I felt it might happen. It has happened with others.

Junior snaps a photo during his post-stroke recovery.

If I am honest, I probably feel differently about Junior because we shared that little gym challenge so many years ago. And my writing this is a step in catharsis for me — because I grieve knowing that Junior is dead. I have seen several other players from Ghana message and tweet their regret that they didn’t keep in touch. Perhaps, we all need absolution. We all need forgiveness for losing Junior. And truthfully, I have little right here. My time in Junior’s life is minuscule compared to others — teammates, friends, family.

But I love Junior. He was like a younger brother when I knew him. And I love Junior because God loves Junior. And I know that God was always reaching throughout the years. I believe that God was reaching beyond more than me. There were others, perhaps, always reaching, always lifting Junior to the Lord.

Today, as I sit and write and remember Manual “Junior” Agogo, I will lift him and his family once again to the Lord.

From the Rev: Not My Forte

This past weekend, I had the awesome privilege and weighty task of preaching on Ephesians 4:1-16 at Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church. The church has a Saturday night Word & Table service, and two morning service times on Sunday — one traditional and one “convergent” or modern service. Friend and mentor, Pastor Mike Anderson, asked me, “How did it go?” I simply responded,

It’s not my forte!

But, perhaps, put a different way — sermon prep and delivery just hasn’t been part of my routine, rhythm and experience as a pastor. I have in my years away from seminary and some pulpit-filling during seminary preached only a handful of times on a Sunday morning or in a special service. My work in hospice chaplaincy and pastoral care staff has not leant itself to preaching very much outside of providing a funeral service.

Ask me to officiate a funeral service? That’s a different story. I have done a upwards of 50 to 60 funerals and memorial services and that’s a more comfortable space. The orientation and direction of the funeral, though, is vastly different from the church worship service. And, when something isn’t in the normal rhythm of your weekly work, it can take more energy to devote the time and attention and recover old tools and techniques for preparing.

But certainly, being supported by Cherry Creek in my work with Soccer Chaplains United, it was a privilege to “give back” to the church in a tangible way. The weighty task , comes from knowing the way in which the church holds a high regard for scripture and the handling of it. Many times, Pastor Brad Strait has shared that the place of the Bible is strategic for the one preaching.

The Bible is placed here in the middle of the church at the very front, so that every time a pastor preaches, he must preach over it and be reminded of the authority of the Word of God and our responsibility to it.

Cherry Creek Presbyterian Church sanctuary

The weight of responsibility is helpful for me as a chaplain because it reminds me of the responsibility that I have (albeit, differently) in the call and task that I have currently to serve as chaplain to those in soccer. Whether working with the Colorado Rapids, developing other chaplains, or struggling with the administration of a small non-profit organization the call that has been placed on my life comes with a tremendous responsibility. And while “success” is not necessarily a kingdom metric — faithfulness and obedience are.

The stained glass at Cherry Creek helps tell the story and set one’s eyes and heart upward in worship.

I also found it curious (although, pointed out by my wife) that the text and eventual sermon was about being part of the Body of Christ. A fitting matter since most of the people that I serve are disconnected (for one reason or another) from the church and from the Body, let alone authentic community. The Ephesians 4:1-16 passage that Brad Strait asked me to preach on, will certainly have application and usefulness beyond Saturday night/Sunday morning’s time. Even for my own reflection and spiritual growth.

I also found very encouraging, Brad’s wisdom to me. In the weeks leading up to the sermon, sensing my nervousness, he shared,

When you don’t preach much, the temptation is that you want to hit a home run. Don’t give into that temptation…it’s not about you.

And this is true, my friends, it’s not about me. And for every “good job” or “I really liked you message/speech/sermon,” it’s a work of humility to give that away — we ought to see people transformed and formed by God’s Word, not our receiving of accolade or praise. And that transforming work is not always easy, comfortable, or pain free. Or, we might say,

It’s not our forte!

Sincerely,

Rev Brad Kenney

From the Rev: Thousands to One

Soccer Chaplains United Logo

If you’re like me, you’re likely getting a few emails these days from various ministries, churches, non-profit, and NGO’s. One email header caught my attention:

THOUSANDS of lives changed…

Thousands.

As I opened up this particular group’s Year in Review report, I saw amazing graphics, cool photographs, video linked testimonials. It was the third, such, Year in Review or Year Summary that I had seen and felt drawn into. It started me wondering whether Soccer Chaplains United needs to put together a professional looking report and summary for our own donors and constituency.

But then I paused.

What if our number was only one?

What if we only impacted one life?

Is one life, worth it? Is one life enough?

Now, I am not going to share the over-used “starfish” story. I am not trying to start a conversation here about the American evangelical church’s love affair with numbers and metrics. I am not trying to pull back the curtain on how different reports and numbers get massaged or finessed (have you ever considered how Christian churches are shrinking despite baptizing 1000’s of people every year?). I am not really looking to create the kind of stir that would have our board members start calling me with concern. But this question has had me up at night:

What if our number was only one?

When I reflect back on the pages of Scripture. There seems to be a least some precedent, for considering the one. The two passages that come most quickly to my mind:

Luke 15

3 Then Jesus told them this parable: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

James 5

19 My brothers and sisters, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring that person back, 20 remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins. 

Friend, I don’t know how you believe that we ought to “measure success.” I can honestly say that I believe that pastors and ministries need to have accountability. Soccer Chaplains United will produce a year-end report and give an account for the money spent, the work done. I don’t know if you look at these things and make choices on how much you donate or give. It is likely that we will try to accurately report to our board the stories of how our chaplains, counselors, and coordinators have served.

Pastors and ministries need to have accountability…

I just wonder if at some point we’ve got to leave the counting and accounting up to God. I just wonder if our trust in mission and ministries of so many churches and non-profits is so low because we’ve been hurt, wounded, or we’ve seen fraudulent and unaccounted behavior from so many. I wonder if we’ve become so capitalistic in our ideals as Christians in the West that we fight over the “limited” or shrinking resources of generosity that seem to get reported in the news and online.

I would love to report, as other churches and ministries do, that we have affected thousands of people (and maybe we have). I would love to come up with a clever metric which says something like “for every $1 you donate we touch _____# of lives.” I would love to share with you that we chaplains are actually like “mega-church” pastors (we just have stadiums instead of traditional church buildings). I would love to “massage” the numbers that our chaplains, counselors, and coordinators have contributed and come up with all sorts of “touch points.”

But so many times our work and our efforts are not measurable in such ways. And maybe, truth be told, we will never be able to measure the impact or the number of lives whom we have served, whom we have loved, whom we have prayed for, whom we have cried with, whom we have celebrated with, whom we feel called and drawn to, whom we have sat with in the pit and pain of all that happens in this game and in this life.

If we only impacted one life, would it be enough?

I ask you, would it be enough if the only number we reported to you this year, is just one? Just one.

Sincerely,

Rev Brad Kenney

The Painfulness of Waiting

For the Colorado Rapids, offseason came sooner than last year. No playoff game appearance. No run for the league cup final. Players, coaches, staff all scattering to the far reaches of the globe until it’s time to return and begin a season anew. For the Rapids and many others throughout professional soccer in North America, the season of waiting commences. The Rapids, recently announced a new head coach — so for some, the wait in that regard is over. But as the 2018 season lies ahead, there is a painful waiting that has begun.

Waiting for a Contract

Imagine this scenario. You are 30 years-old. Married. You and your spouse are expecting your first child and you are waiting for a contract for the next year. Paycheck, insurance, benefits, rent/mortage everything is up in the air for a few months until a team decides whether to offer you a new contract to play. And if the opportunity doesn’t come? The dreaded “R” word — retirement. For many, players and their families this can be one of the most difficult waiting spaces that they will ever face in their careers. Do they continue to try and play, or do they move on to the next chapter of life? How will they provide?

Waiting for a Chance

Or, take the Rapids’ case under consideration — a new head coach. If you might equate this, it’s like getting a new boss at work. Everyone finds themselves in a unique situation. Will they retain their positions (coach or player or staff)? Will they get a chance to prove themselves? Will they get off on the right foot?

Waiting for Healing

The offseason is replete with many who have had injuries or hurts and pains to take care of them with a surgery or rehab. Often times, players are waiting for their bodies to heal and recover. Some of them have had to get a surgery, where the risk is that they may or may not heal and recover or they may not be able to compete or perform at the level they once did.

Waiting for Clearance

The sport of soccer is a global enterprise and it is managed at an international level, unlike many other sports. A player transferring from one country to another must go through a process and make sure that they can receive clearance to play in another country. Many times a player might find themselves in a waiting situation where they are wanting to play games and they are ready, but they are still waiting for their paperwork to get clearance.

Waiting for a Game

The World Cup draw was this past Friday. Teams participating in the 32 global tournament found out which opponents they will face next June 2018 in Russia. Now comes the waiting game — of course, there will be preparation and “friendly” games to hone and warm up to the competition, but there will be months of waiting until knowing the outcome of one of the biggest events around the world every four years.

These are just a few examples of waiting in the sport of soccer and as I reflect on the different moments of waiting (there are more), I am reminded of the season that we find ourselves in. Advent is a season of waiting. In the first Advent, we find that many are waiting for hope, redemption, deliverance. They face oppression, persecution, death.

Waiting is not easy, especially in our culture which has become “instant.” I won’t bore you with myriad of “instant” examples, you know them already. But waiting isn’t popular. Henri Nouwen once wrote,

For many people, waiting is an awful desert between where they are and where they want to go. People do not like such a place. They want to get out of it by doing something.

Nouwen goes on to say that waiting is even harder because of fear.

Think of it for a moment — if you had those waiting moments above, what would you fear?

Fear of failure, fear of not having a job, fear of being rejected, fear of being injured or maimed. Because of fear, we become driven to “strike first” or to “look out for number one” or to “stab someone else in the back.” Fear drives us to avoid waiting periods. Fear drives us to become very busy so that we cannot feel the painfulness of waiting.

But what if we could be different in our approach to waiting? What if we could understand the nature of waiting in such a way that it was a flourishing place for us?

Waiting for a Promise

If we realize that waiting is a productive (albeit unseen) time that produces promise, we can live into a transformed view of waiting. Like a woman, pregnant with child, she can bear the discomfort and waiting because what is inside of her is growing from a seed of promise into a child. Nouwen writes,

So waiting is never a movement from nothing to something. It is always a movement from something to something more.

If anything can carry a soccer athlete, coach, or staff member though those difficult waiting moments above, it can be the promise that is held. The promise of a new team (if the old one doesn’t want you back). The promise of a new contract that honors your ability and contributions or maybe simply your legacy and history. The promise of an opportunity to test yourself in a stage of competition against a worthy or even greater opponent.

Waiting with Hope

Another way in which we may wait and wait well is when we wait with hope. Hope is different than mere wish or desire, because hope takes more of an approach that is open. Wishes and desires may overcome us to the point that we go out and try to control our future or dictate the results. Hope, though, allows us to wait differently. Hope trusts that the promise will be fulfilled — the promise, not merely what one might wish.

As the season of Christmas approaches, it has been interesting to me to observe how my own children have moved from the hope-filled wonder and awe of the wrapped gift to more of a “wish” attitude or mentality. When what is wished for (or even requested) is not produced, severe disappointment follows. It’s like opening the package shaped like an iPhone only to discover it’s socks! The need for socks is perhaps more real and tangible than the phone, but the wishing dominates and eventually disappoints so that the actual gift is lost.

During this Advent season, my hope and prayer is that in whatever waiting season or place you may find yourself in, that you will wait with hope and realize that there is a great work at hand in the waiting place. There is something that is happening within the heart. There is a strengthening. There is a resiliency that is growing inside of you.

Advent blessings,

Rev Brad Kenney

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