End Game

I’ve shared the story of how I entered full-time vocational ministry perhaps a hundred times, but never on this blog. Today, I thought it appropriate to do so.

It was the fall of 1990, and my wife and I had just had our second son. Justin was about six months old and Eric was going to turn two, and life for our fledgling family was just unfolding. I was working as an aerospace engineer for a rocket company, and I had just graduated from an in-house fast-track program, which coincided nicely with my recent MBA. I had just gotten a raise and a promotion, reporting directly to the Vice President of Engineering, so career-wise, things were looking up. But the higher I climbed the corporate ladder, the more discontented I was. It was, as I look back now, a holy discontent.

Concurrently, I was serving on the worship team for a church plant, Oak Hills in Folsom, and we were in the process of hiring our first worship pastor. Officially, I was the volunteer keyboardist (right hand), bass player (left hand), drummer (drum machine kicked off with my left foot), and background vocalist on the team. Though we had a good number of resumes coming in, there just didn’t seem to be a good fit.

I remember coming home from work one day and meeting Deb at the front door, as she handed me our baby boy. In that moment, I half-joked, “Hey, maybe I should apply for the position at church.” But my wife is smarter than I am, and she said something that would drastically alter the trajectory of our lives. “Honey,” she replied, “If you really feel that way, we should pray about it.”

One month later, I found myself sitting in my VP’s office, explaining to him that I felt called by God to leave my ten year career in aerospace to serve my local church.

It was a leap of faith, not only for us, but for Oak Hills. We both agreed to a salary that was the minimum amount needed to survive while still paying our mortgage, but was still more than the church could realistically afford. Looking back now, I really believe in the power in naivete—the ability to accomplish great things because you didn’t know it was impossible to do it to begin with.

That was almost 36 years ago. In all that time, we faced great struggles and trials—in our finances, in our family, spiritually and physically, and in ministry. But we were also able to love deeply, help people form hearts that love God, worship and evangelize, laugh and cry, and experience the faithfulness of a gracious God. I have had the privilege of sharing life and ministry with hundreds of creatives, and felt the smile of God upon me more times than I can count.

I tell you all this now because we just recently announced my plans for retirement from Oak Hills. I have been the Creative Arts Pastor at this church for almost 34 years, and have loved every bit of it. My deepest friendships, my greatest accomplishments, and the better parts of my life have been at Oak Hills. I’ve married people, buried people, baptized people, preached sermons, did hospital and prison visitations, led people to the throne in worship. I’ve seen lives changed and souls saved. It’s not rocket science—but it has been a blast.

My effective end date will be Easter of 2027, which gives us time to find a replacement and achieve a smooth transition. We continue to believe in the mission of the church and in the leadership tasked to accomplish that mission, so after some sabbatical time away, we intend to come back to Oak Hills as volunteers. Oak Hills is our home and our family, and we intend to finish well there.

So where do we go from here? My working definition of retirement is the ability to spend more and more time in my sweet spots. For me, that includes being an artist and an advocate for artists. That includes composing and performing music, writing books and blogs, speaking at conferences and workshops, and occasionally leading worship. To make this happen, I’ve created a non-profit ministry, Manuel Luz Ministry, as a department of Artists in Christian Testimony, Intl. If you are led to support me in this venture, please hit the link to get more information and to give. I am especially looking for monthly support, so if you are so led (even for a small amount), that would be amazing.

The term “end game” refers to the final stage of a game of chess. At this point in the match, there are fewer pieces to move, and a lot more space on the board. But every move becomes more critical and consequential and thoughtful—and hopefully more fun. I think this is also a good description of how I see my impending retirement—more space, more freedom, more consequence, more thoughtfulness, but more fun.

I’m convinced that God isn’t done with me yet. I suspect that you’ll see another book, another album, another creative venture. Things that are artistic and out-of-the-box and further the Kingdom of God. If you’d like me to speak at your church, conference, or organization, please let me know.

Note: If you’d like to view the Sunday morning interview where I make my retirement announcement, please hit the link.

[Banner photo by Hogir saeed on Unsplash. Inset photo of Deb and I at Cannon Beach, Oregon, at sunset.]