Thinking Out Loud

I was in Cullman, Alabama, last week helping out my parents who are both in poor health right now, and Dad and I stopped by their favorite local barbeque restaurant to pick up dinner one evening.  Johnny’s Bar-B-Q is a great place to get pulled pork, whether it is served on a sandwich with coleslaw, on a platter with a few side items, or loaded onto a ginormous baked potato.  “We’ll Serve No Swine Before Its Time” is their company motto.  Johnny’s is open for business Tuesday through Saturday each week.  A sign on the front door explains what happens on the other two days.  “Closed Sunday for church.  Closed Monday to rest.”  When I saw the sign last week, my first thought was, “Wow!  Their Sundays must be a lot like mine!”

Do you ever feel like you need a day of rest after Sunday?  If you are an infrequent church-goer or one who attends a morning worship assembly and then moves on to other things for the rest of the day, you may not know what I am talking about.  But, if you are a heavily involved church member or a church leader, then you know exactly what I mean.  The day starts early with worship and Sunday School, then there is a quick lunch before a succession of activities that can easily run until nearly bedtime:  committee meetings, work groups, training sessions, service projects, evening worship services, small group meetings, and youth activities.  The larger your church, the more susceptible you are to “activity overload.”  Many of us feel pangs of guilt if we ever start to question the rationality or healthiness of such a frenetic start-to-finish pace on Sundays, because all of these activities revolve around good things; needful things; spiritual things.  But, for a people who believe and teach salvation by grace and not by works, we Christians sure do measure a lot of spiritual faithfulness, commitment, and maturity (in ourselves and others) in terms of the number of ministries involved in and the number of organized activities attended.  Saying, “No,” to a good work is tatamount to denying the faith.  A hole in your Sunday schedule means that you are not trying hard enough.  If I seem to know whereof I speak, it is because I am a Recovering Perfectionist and People-Pleaser.  “No” is just not in the acceptable, conditioned vocabulary of our church culture. 

In His covenant with Israel, God made a provision for the Sabbath, a day of respite and rest from the weekly grind.  By the time of Jesus, it was traditional and acceptable for Sabbath activities to include a visit to the local synagogue, but, beyond this time of worship, prayer, and reading and exposition of the Law and the Prophets, Saturday was a day to chill.  Still, an elaborate, loopholed  “system” ultimately developed which granted you a handy license to do just about anything you wanted to do or provided a convenient excuse to exempt you from anything that you preferred not to do.  Jesus was fairly unmerciful in exposing the hypocrisy and the excessive man-made burden of such a system. 

I know that Sunday is not the “Christian Sabbath,” despite the fact that a surprising number of Christians believe that God somehow “transferred” the Sabbath (and its prohibitions against work) to the first day of the week with the advent of the Christian age.  Sunday is Resurrection Day; the day that both Biblical and secular historical sources verify was the primary day of Christian assembly for worship, Communion, prayer, and fellowship.  Sabbath prohibitions had no relevance to this New Covenant day of worship.  “Blue laws” in the U.S. have no basis in Scripture, but rather can be traced to the influence of Puritanical interpretations of the Bible in the early history of our nation. 

Still, mankind has a need for rest.  As church leaders, we often lament the breakneck pace of our culture and the overcommitment of time that Christian families make between work, school, ballgames, and social events.  Then, we respond by packing as many activities as possible into the one remaining day of the week.  No, I am not calling for an end to the multitude of ministries and good works in which God has called His children to be involved; just asking for some balance and moderation.  With all of the special-emphasis Sundays that churches celebrate, maybe we could observe a periodic “Worship Sunday” in which the church calendar is cleared and a moratorium is declared on all official, organized activities, with the exception of an expanded morning worship assembly lasting an hour and a half or two hours.  No Bible classes (give your hard-working teachers a morning off!).  No fellowship meal.  No small groups.  No evening worship assembly.  Just an hour or two to become “lost in wonder, love, and praise” and then dismiss for the day. (Props to Charles Wesley for that phrase from his hymn Love Divine.)  Perhaps then we would not feel like we needed a day of rest after Sunday before we began the rest of our week.

“Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.”  (Jesus)

A couple of days ago, I heard Alan Jackson’s Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)? on the radio.  It had been quite some time, probably three or more years, since I had heard it.  The tears immediately began to flow as I re-lived the pain and shock of September 11, 2001.  Last month, our nation observed a somber eighth anniversary of the terrorist attacks that forever changed America.  Nearly 3,000 lost their lives in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania.  The death toll is listed at 2,974, with some calculations being higher or lower depending on the source.  This massive, tragic loss of human life and the magnitude of the devastation is still overwhelming.  Added to this human toll are the 5,233 U.S. servicemen and women who have sacrificed their lives for their country in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan since 9/11.

Another recent event also caused me to think about the September 11 terrorist attacks.  For several days in a row I had read in the Tulsa World about homicides in our area.  You would think that after living in the Dallas Metroplex for 12 years that I would be significantly desensitized to reports about violent crime.  Still, there was something about the brutality and senselessness of these killings that deeply disturbed me.  I started wondering about the cumulative impact of homicides in the U.S., so I checked out the FBI’s Uniform Crime Reports and became even more unsettled.

In 2001, excluding the deaths from 9/11, there were 16,037 homicides in the U.S.  The total from 2001 through last year was 131,913; an average of 16,489 per year.  Maybe that doesn’t surprise you.  Maybe you keep a mental, running tally of acts of brutality in our country.  But, the number simply blew me away!  Why wasn’t I aware of this?  Maybe it is because the numbers are spread over a population of 300 million and are only reported a few homicides at a time in our respective communities.  Maybe it is because most of us reading this blog don’t live in the neighborhoods and walk the streets where these crimes are committed.  But, on average, every 66 days there are as many murders in the U.S. as there were on 9/11.  These aren’t just statistics.  Each number represents a human being and an eternal soul; a father, mother, husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, sister or neighbor.  When cruel offenses like rape and aggravated assault are included, there were 1.3 million violent crimes committed in the U.S. in 2008.  That number does not include the increasingly less-mentioned deaths of 1.2 million unborn Americans by abortion last year.  That subject merits a blog post of its own.

2,700 years ago, God delivered this charge against His people through the prophet Hosea, “Listen to the word of the Lord, O sons of Israel, for the Lord has a case against the inhabitants of the land, because there is no faithfulness or kindness or knowledge of God in the land.  There is swearing, deception, murder, stealing and adultery.  They employ violence, so that bloodshed follows bloodshed,” (Hosea 4:1-3).  Those last two sentences could be a synopsis of recent headlines from the Tulsa World, The Dallas Morning News, and other newspapers from across the country.

As vital as our prayers are for our nation and its leaders, we must not allow our petitions to the Father to salve our consciences or absolve us of any sense of additional responsibility.  This is not a matter of political ideology, elections or legislation.  It is a matter of Christian influence, salt and light, through which Christ can impact individual lives and hearts and the collective consciousness of our communities with the Gospel of peace.  This is about a call to repentance, a call for mercy and compassion, and a call for brother to not lift his hand against brother and neighbor against neighbor. While I certainly do not have a quick or easy answer for stopping the bloodshed, neither can I remain complacent or dispassionate about the 45 funerals that will take place today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the next and the next…    

"Mr. Cub" - Ernie Banks

In light of the controversy over the selection of U.S. President Barack Obama to receive this year’s Nobel Peace Prize, I found this NPR interview with Ernie Banks really refreshing.  Hall of Famer Banks played his entire Major League career with the Chicago Cubs from 1953 to 1971.  Known as Mr. Cub and Mr. Sunshine, Banks won the National League MVP award in 1958 and 1959 and was a perennial All-Star.  What stood out to me in the interview was Banks’ enduring love of the game of baseball, his humility, and the unexpected revelation that his childhood dream was not to play professional baseball, but to win the Nobel Prize for Peace.  Maybe next year! 

By the way, does anyone recall the winner of last year’s Nobel Peace Prize?  Anyone?  Anyone?   Bueller?   Bueller?

Click the link below to listen to the interview.

NPR Interview with Ernie Banks

A year ago today, I was at the lowest point of my entire life.  The days were dark, and I felt like there was a weight on my heart that would crush me.  I had questions about my physical and emotional health, my future in ministry, and my future, period!   From a human perspective, there was no way forward.  I cried out to the Lord like I never had before; and, often, I just cried.  I was spent, with no strength of my own to offer.  My tank was empty and my well was dry.

“But, God …”  Those two powerful words!  They make all the difference!  Read Ephesians 2:1-10 and notice how these two words at the beginning of verse 4 provide the radical turning point within that context.  Only God could part the clouds and dispel the darkness.  Only God could bring healing and strength.  Only the Almighty could restore joy and hope.  Can I get an “Amen” to His faithfulness and grace?

A year later, so many prayers have been answered and so many remarkable blessings have been granted to me, my family, and my ministry that I find myself questioning, “Was that really me?”  It seems impossible, and, in truth, it is; humanly impossible!  Jesus said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible,” (Matthew 19:26). 

Thank you, Father, for loving me.  Thank you, Jesus, for saving me.  Thank you, Holy Spirit, for abiding with me.  Thank you, Kim, for loving and believing in me.  Thank you, Hannah and Coleman, for trusting me.  Thank you, friends and brothers and sisters in Christ, for encouraging me.

I waited patiently for the Lord; and He inclined to me and heard my cry. 

He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and He set my feet upon a rock, making my footsteps firm.

He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;

Many will see and fear and will trust in the Lord.

(Psalm 40:1-3)

Several weeks ago, Coleman and I attended a Tulsa Drillers game with a couple of friends and their sons, compliments of another Christian brother who had some tickets that he couldn’t use.  The Drillers are the Double-A affiliate of the Colorado Rockies and compete in the Texas League.  Although it was hot and humid, without the slightest hint of a breeze, it was still a great night to be outdoors enjoying a baseball game.  It happened to be “Fireworks Night” at Drillers Stadium, and after the game there was perfect synchronicity between the shutting off of the field lights and the explosion of the first barrage of pyrotechnics.  Coleman literally came up out of his seat and jumped into mine.  (By the way, he is about five feet tall now and weighs about 140 pounds!)  However, the initial shock quickly wore off and he settled back down into his own seat.  He seemed to really enjoy the rest of the show!  I would augment the noise by shouting “Boom!  Boom!  Boom!” after the shells exploded.  He smiled and laughed.

Since that night, Coleman has prompted Kim and me to say, “Fireworks!  Boom!  Boom!  Boom!” by making a fist with his right hand and shaking it beside his head.  This is almost identical to his sign for “bell” and “I have to go to the bathroom right now!” so we have to use context to determine his precise meaning.   He has also started looking up fireworks videos on YouTube.  Another post will document his web surfing abilities!

Last Saturday morning, the three of us went to Lowes to buy some azaleas and dwarf crepe myrtles to plant in the back yard.  Needing a couple of additional items, we walked into the indoor section of the garden department.  Out of all the items stocked on the shelves, Coleman spotted the small decorative American flags.  He used to love it when I would line both sides of our sidewalk and the front edge of the lawn with these flags on Memorial Day and Independence Day.  He enjoyed watching them flap in the strong Texas wind.  Coleman pointed to the flags at Lowes, so I got one down from the shelf for him.  As soon as the flag was in his left hand, he began signing “fireworks” with his right hand.  We couldn’t believe it!  I had no idea that his mind had ever associated fireworks with the American flag.  The boy has been paying attention!!!  Once again, we were humbled and amazed by how uniquely God has gifted Coleman and how we so often sell him short in regard to what he understands.  Thankfully, he is very patient and keeps gently teaching us what he wants us to know.

The above picture, taken by photographer Allan Detrich, appeared in the Toledo Blade in March of 2007.  It shows members of the Bluffton University baseball team praying before their first home game.  This liberal arts college is located in Bluffton, Ohio, and is affiliated with the Mennonite Church USA.  Hung along the outfield fence are banners bearing the names and uniform numbers of five teammates who had died in a bus accident in Atlanta on March 2 as the team was heading to Florida for a Spring Break tournament.  Also killed in the accident were the bus driver and his wife.  The image is heavy with the emotions that the players were undoubtedly experiencing as they sought to deal with this tragic loss and move forward with their season.

Allan Detrich had worked for the Toledo Blade since 1989.  He was a four-time recipient of the Ohio News Photographer of the Year Award.  He had been a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography.  But, despite his credentials and achievements, questions began to arise about photos that he had submitted for publication in the print and online editions of the newspaper.  Officials at the Blade ultimately determined that they had unknowingly published 58 photos that had been digitally altered by Detrich.  To what degree were they digitally altered?  The image above provides one example.  The original photo looked like this…..

As you can see, someone was standing outside the fence and behind the far right banner when the picture was taken.  I don’t know if Detrich felt that the legs beneath the banner detracted from the symmetry or the mood of the photo,  but something motivated him to digitally remove them from the photo before it was submitted for publication.  Other examples included removing a white extension cord from a shot inside a hair salon and adding a basketball to a photo from a women’s basketball game.  Legs, extension cords and basketballs; these were not exactly things that could precipitate global climate change or threaten the political stability of the nation.  Was it really such a big deal?  The editors and publishers of the Toledo Blade thought it was.  Detrich resigned in April of 2007, after nearly two decades of working for the paper.  When asked about the severity of the consequences, a Blade official said, “It has to be zero tolerance.  If you can alter one small piece of a photo, can you alter a medium size piece?  You just can’t alter at all.”  It was a matter of principle.  

Down through the centuries there have been individuals and groups who felt like the Word of God would be much more palatable and effective if certain things were removed or added.  Marcion’s anti-Jewish theology led him to reject the entire Old Testament and only accept the Gospel of Luke and ten of Paul’s epistles as canonical.  In more recent times, certain groups have claimed latter day revelation through their prophets, producing documents that, in their minds, supplement and “complete” Scripture.  Both extremes would do well to recognize and abide by the “Do Not Tamper” warnings within the Scriptures.  “You shall not add to the word which I am commanding you, nor take away from it, that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God which I command you,” (Deut. 4:2).  “Do not add to His words or He will reprove you, and you will be proved a liar,” (Prov. 30:6).  “I testify to everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book; if anyone adds to them, God will add to him the plagues which are written in this book; and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his part from the tree of life and from the holy city, which are written in this book,” (Rev. 22:18-19). 

If the Toledo Blade can take the addition and subtraction of images of legs, extension cords and basketballs that seriously, I begin to get a sense of how exponentially greater my commitment should be to accepting and respecting the whole counsel of God without altering it to suit my tastes, preferences and comfort zone. 

Several years ago, I read an article in Sports Illustrated written by Ken Young about a blind triathlete named Tom O’Connor.  O’Connor had lost his sight at age 19 when a surgical shunt came apart, flooding his optic nerves with spinal fluid.  Overcoming this and other obstacles, he committed himself to a rigorous running regimen and was able to complete several New York City Marathons.   Next, O’Connor wanted to expand his athletic pursuits and participate in triathlons, but he desired to do so without being tethered to a guide, which was the typical manner in which blind athletes competed.  He accomplished this by swimming behind a kayak that pulled two 20-foot tubes, creating a lane for him.  If he came in contact with the tube on either side of him, he could easily correct his course.  O’Connor ran beside a guide who spoke instructions about the terrain, upcoming turns, etc.  But, most amazing and inspiring was the way in which he managed the cycling portion of the race.  His training partner rode in an escort vehicle ahead of O’Connor and called out instructions using a bullhorn.  O’Connor sped along at 20 mph, pedalling in total darkness, trusting completely in the voice and direction of his trainer!  Young wrote, “While seeing is believing for most people, for Tom O’Connor just believing is enough.” 

There are so many lessons that O’Connor’s story illustrates: commitment, perseverance, determination, trust, and the list could go on and on.  But, mostly it reminds me of the life of faith that we live as children of God and disciples of Jesus.  It is a rational, reasoned and evidenced faith to be sure, but it is still faith, which Hebrews 11: 1 defines as “being sure of what we hope for and certain about what we do not see.”  We walk by faith, not by sight (II Corinthians 5:7).  When the apostle Thomas finally received tangible, physical proof of the risen Christ a week after the Resurrection, Jesus said to him, “Because you have seen Me, have you believed?  Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed,” (John 20:29)  We are among those people of faith who have not seen, yet believe!  One day our faith will become sight.  “We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because will see Him just as He is,” (I John 3:2), and we will see and know Him “face to face,” (I Corinthians 13:12).  May that Day come quickly!  But, until then, let us continue to walk in confident faith, listening to His voice and following in His steps! 

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Since I shared a post a few days ago about my admiration for Mark Knopfler’s artistry on the guitar, I thought it only fair that I make brief mention of my original Guitar Hero, Brian May of Queen fame; make that, Dr. Brian May.  When Queen hit it big in the early ’70s, May already had degrees in physics and mathematics and was working on a Ph.D. at Imperial College, London.  Rock superstardom demanded a full-time commitment, so he shelved his studies for the next 30 years.  He occasionally published papers, but did not resume his doctoral pursuits until rather recently.  In October of 2007, May completed requirements for his doctorate in astrophysics.  His dissertation was entitled, A Survey of Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud.   May also has a great interest in stereo photography and has authored a book to be released next February entitled, A Village Lost and Found, which focuses on a series of stereo images of an Oxfordshire village taken by T. R. Williams in the 1850s.

May’s distinctive musical sound can be largely attributed to the Red Special, the guitar that he and his father built together when May was a teenager and which still serves as his primary “axe.”  Much of the wood in the Red Special came from a fireplace mantel.  May’s performance of Last Horizon above is from the Return of the Champions concert DVD released in 2005.  There aren’t too many astrophysicists who can play like this!

In 1937, five days after President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s second inauguration, a new radio drama, The Guiding Light, aired its first episode on NBC Radio.  Ten years later, the show moved to CBS Radio and then had its debut on CBS Television in 1952.  The definite article was dropped from the show’s title in 1975.  The final episode of Guiding Light aired last Friday, September 18, after 72 years on radio and television, making it far and away the longest running serial drama in broadcast history.  So, have I been a longtime, closet Guiding Light fan?  Hardly!  I never “got” soap operas, despite my maternal grandmother’s unyielding devotion to her afternoon “stories.”  I just found it remarkable that this particular soap had been on the air for 72 years!  Can you imagine all of the characters that came and went over seven decades?  The numerous twisted, tangled (and often morally depraved!) storylines?

However, I know of a much longer running story.  It involves the true Guiding Light, a perfectly moral and sinless Guiding Light.  The beginning of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy, “The people who were sitting in darkness saw a great Light, and those who were sitting in the land and shadow of death, upon them a Light dawned,” (Is. 9:2; Matt. 4:16).  “There was the true Light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man,” (John 1:9).  Jesus Himself said, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the Light of life,” (John 8:12).  His Light gives us instruction and guidance as we travel through this life and into eternity.  His Word and Gospel, just like earlier divine revelation, is “a lamp to our feet and a light to our path,” (Ps. 119:105).

The “story” continues, almost 2,000 years after the Light dawned!  Millions of characters have now been involved in this ongoing spiritual drama, with storylines spanning the centuries and touching every nation, tribe and tongue.  The darkness will not overwhelm us!  “For you were formerly darkness, but now you are light in the Lord; walk as children of Light,” (Eph. 5:8).