I drove down from the 5400 ft. elevation headed east on I-40. My job was to drive, plain and simple. Kids and grandkids were moving 920 miles east from their home in northwest New Mexico to east Texas. I asked how I could help, they answered: drive. So there I was descending the foothills of the Rockies around Albuquerque toward the plains of eastern New Mexico and the Panhandle in a two car caravan with son, daughter-in-law, two dogs, luggage, and the two prettiest grandchildren in the universe.
If you have ever made that particular trip from central New Mexico through the Panhandle and down into Texas, you may think, "boring, nothing at all to see." Well, in one sense true, but beauty often hides among the mundane, the unusual among the usual, the extraordinary among the ordinary. If you know how and where to look, even in the desert, you will find it. Some days it's easier to find the beauty, other days you have to look really close, some days it is breathtakingly obvious.
Before getting out of Albuquerque I had noticed them in the distance. The deep, blue darkness of the eastern horizon topped by the bright, shining whiteness of thunderstorms. I wondered as we moved along I-40 at 75 mph how long before we would catch the storms. In them may be hail, 60 mph winds, and blinding rain, all of which I had just soon avoid. In the meantime I purposed to enjoy them. I guestimated their distant at between 50 to 100 miles from us. The beauty of distant thunderstorms in the foothills and out over the plains is difficult to explain but nonetheless magnificent. The rolling and roiling of the storms interspersed with impressive lightning displays can be mesmerizing. The storms with their head start stayed in front of us. We would pass by places where the pavement remained wet and puddles abounded but we never quite caught them as we would stop for a break or a meal. A heavy sprinkle is as close as we came but the distant beauty was appreciated. Topping a hill, looking out over a vast, wide valley with another foothill five to ten miles away and this ginormous landscape dwarfed by the thunderstorm's dark silhouette and bright flashes left me speechless. The shear size and power as it moved across the earth was astoundingly beautiful. The scale diminished as mountains gave way to plains and light gave way to darkness but then the storm's lightning took center stage. The bolts alternatingly crawled across the sky, lit up the clouds from within, and then bolted hard to the earth. They held a distant beauty in their size, power, and majesty. I was duly impressed, thrilled, humbled, entertained, and thankful.
Then from time to time I would steal a glance into the back seat to see the grands. At times they played on ipads, listened to music ( I heard the Teddy Bear Picnic 32 times between New Mexico and Dallas), drew, colored, ate, pestered sibling (not much frankly), sang, asked Grandcos questions and napped. I was impressed, humbled, entertained, and thankful. Theirs was an intimate beauty that began not three feet from my head that reached a deeper place in the heart that few could touch.
I realized that the Source of this and all true beauty was the Lord of the storm that of itself displays only a small portion of His power and majesty. This Source of beauty in dancing eyes, heart-grabbing smiles, unexplained giggles, quiet looks from deep thought, and the presence of beings so connected to my soul is also the same Lord. This Lord of distant beauty is the Lord of the intimate beauty who seeks to be enjoyed in both and every beauty in between.
Look long, look closely, look inward and outward. Look in the backseat, in the mirror, in the yard, down the pew, across the valley, through the pain, and look behind the laughter, He is there, Immanent and Transcendent at once. He is Jesus, a distant beauty as close as your heart.
Cos
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Thursday, April 9, 2015
TV God
There have been a spate of television shows and even movies about God, religion, and Bible-"based" themes over the past few years. As America has pushed forward rather quickly into a post-Christian culture that no longer accepts the basic tenets of Christianity as truth, let alone accepting Christianity's high ideals for which to strive, a strange juxtaposition has arisen with the growth in the number of shows and movies about the Bible, Jesus and the church he birthed. Recently, Hollywood gave us "Noah" a couple of years ago but the only connection to the Bible story was the spelling of the name "Noah" and a lot a rain. We also have Moses portrayed in "Exodus: Gods and Kings," which garnered a whopping 1 star from the NY Times as being awfully written and terribly acted.
Television has jumped in with Roma Downy's "AD- The Bible Continues" on NBC, "Finding Jesus" on CNN, Bill O'Reilly's "Killing Jesus," and "The Dovekeepers" recent mini-series. The Weather Channel also had a show on weather catastrophes in the Bible. Apparently, Hollywood has an interest either in propagating religious belief, destroying religious credibility with bible-based shows that are no where near the bible story but are accepted by the general public (who have almost no bible literacy) as true, or producers, financiers, etc. who think they can make money on it. My guess is that all these are true at the motivation level depending on the individuals involved.
So is the interest in Bible based shows good or bad for the church, for the Christian, and for the Kingdom? The answer is a solid "yes" and a definite "no." When a person who is searching to fill that "God shaped vacuum in their heart" (B. Pascal), and finds truth about God's love for him in the Bible, in a friend's testimony, or even in a television show about Jesus, then, yes, that is a good thing. These shows can pique interest, arouse curiosity, confirm Godly suspicions, and point toward Truth that redeems and frees from sin. These shows can be wonderfully entertaining with an uplifting message, a warning against neglecting truth, a reminder of spiritual values and forces, an invitation to explore the God of love and to be prepared in light of His righteous judgement. They can bring hope to life and ease fears about life or death.
However, when truth is sacrificed for dramatic effect, when the story is twisted according to political correctness or public opinion polls, when faith is portrayed as bigoted, hateful, or solely another power or money grab then the results can be horrible. If a person or society who has high faith in the medium of the movie, sees his or her beloved movies showing faith, church, Christian, or Christ as destructive or irrelevant, then the results can be eternally damning. There is even a subtle problem when a show or movie is done well and tries to maintain or project Biblical meaning or truth. The person watching the show can at the end say, "that was good; that was informative; I believe that; I was entertained." If that is all that happens that too can be harmful. Truth is to be followed by repentance, if that is what is needed; compassion, if that is what is needed; service, if that is what is needed; and justice, as that is always is called for.
The ultimate question is: do Bible-based shows lead the lost sinner to repent and move toward faith in Christ or at least ask questions along those lines? Do the shows inspire the individual believer to a deeper faith and desire to live out the righteousness of Christ either through cleansing from evils or greater commitment to truth? Does the show motivate the church to seek to serve the hurting world around them? Do the shows lead to a greater commitment to justice for the least, lost, and lonely? Does hope abound? Is God honored?
I don't personally believe that these Bible themed stories should be solely, merely entertaining. There are some mediums that provide this break, this refreshment that can add flavor, joy and respite to our lives. Within their stories are often a principle or truth that is very biblical, either implied or picked up subtlety in the telling of the tale. (A couple of examples: Its a Wonderful Life; Captains Courageous; We're No Angels; Life with Father; Tender Mercies; Places in the Heart; and every superhero movie has a "savior" theme.) The stakes are too high, however, for faith-based, bible-based shows. They must engage the individual on deeper levels, and some do. It is a powerful medium when used well.
So what to do? Here are my suggestions:
Know your bible. Study it yourself. You can then know if the movie or tv show is on track, even if they do add a few dramatic twists.
Pray for your culture, especially the lost and for your testimony in it. Your experience of Jesus is powerful.
Be ready for and look to engage your neighbor or culture in loving, kind, and informative conversations. These movies can provide a wonderful opening and starting point for dialogue.
Be firm in your stance and oh, so respectful and merciful to others who do not share your perspective.
If it is good, say so, not just because it is "Christian" but if the quality, production, acting, directing, cinematography is of a good quality. If it stinks, don't make excuses for it.
And remember, the church doesn't need Hollywood for us to be relevant, meaningful, and accepted. Hollywood needs us to be faithful, prayerful, joyful, hopeful, merciful, smart, just, insightful, and truthful. We are already relevant because the King loves us; we have meaning because Jesus died and rose to give us abundant, meaningful life; He has already accepted us. Our lives are based on and blessed by Him. The greatest witness to this world will come from the church that really believes those aforementioned truths, not from the silver screen. When done right, the silver screen merely reflects what we already know.
Hooray for Hollywood: yes, no, and sometimes,
We pray for Hollywood: yes.
Cos
Television has jumped in with Roma Downy's "AD- The Bible Continues" on NBC, "Finding Jesus" on CNN, Bill O'Reilly's "Killing Jesus," and "The Dovekeepers" recent mini-series. The Weather Channel also had a show on weather catastrophes in the Bible. Apparently, Hollywood has an interest either in propagating religious belief, destroying religious credibility with bible-based shows that are no where near the bible story but are accepted by the general public (who have almost no bible literacy) as true, or producers, financiers, etc. who think they can make money on it. My guess is that all these are true at the motivation level depending on the individuals involved.
So is the interest in Bible based shows good or bad for the church, for the Christian, and for the Kingdom? The answer is a solid "yes" and a definite "no." When a person who is searching to fill that "God shaped vacuum in their heart" (B. Pascal), and finds truth about God's love for him in the Bible, in a friend's testimony, or even in a television show about Jesus, then, yes, that is a good thing. These shows can pique interest, arouse curiosity, confirm Godly suspicions, and point toward Truth that redeems and frees from sin. These shows can be wonderfully entertaining with an uplifting message, a warning against neglecting truth, a reminder of spiritual values and forces, an invitation to explore the God of love and to be prepared in light of His righteous judgement. They can bring hope to life and ease fears about life or death.
However, when truth is sacrificed for dramatic effect, when the story is twisted according to political correctness or public opinion polls, when faith is portrayed as bigoted, hateful, or solely another power or money grab then the results can be horrible. If a person or society who has high faith in the medium of the movie, sees his or her beloved movies showing faith, church, Christian, or Christ as destructive or irrelevant, then the results can be eternally damning. There is even a subtle problem when a show or movie is done well and tries to maintain or project Biblical meaning or truth. The person watching the show can at the end say, "that was good; that was informative; I believe that; I was entertained." If that is all that happens that too can be harmful. Truth is to be followed by repentance, if that is what is needed; compassion, if that is what is needed; service, if that is what is needed; and justice, as that is always is called for.
The ultimate question is: do Bible-based shows lead the lost sinner to repent and move toward faith in Christ or at least ask questions along those lines? Do the shows inspire the individual believer to a deeper faith and desire to live out the righteousness of Christ either through cleansing from evils or greater commitment to truth? Does the show motivate the church to seek to serve the hurting world around them? Do the shows lead to a greater commitment to justice for the least, lost, and lonely? Does hope abound? Is God honored?
I don't personally believe that these Bible themed stories should be solely, merely entertaining. There are some mediums that provide this break, this refreshment that can add flavor, joy and respite to our lives. Within their stories are often a principle or truth that is very biblical, either implied or picked up subtlety in the telling of the tale. (A couple of examples: Its a Wonderful Life; Captains Courageous; We're No Angels; Life with Father; Tender Mercies; Places in the Heart; and every superhero movie has a "savior" theme.) The stakes are too high, however, for faith-based, bible-based shows. They must engage the individual on deeper levels, and some do. It is a powerful medium when used well.
So what to do? Here are my suggestions:
Know your bible. Study it yourself. You can then know if the movie or tv show is on track, even if they do add a few dramatic twists.
Pray for your culture, especially the lost and for your testimony in it. Your experience of Jesus is powerful.
Be ready for and look to engage your neighbor or culture in loving, kind, and informative conversations. These movies can provide a wonderful opening and starting point for dialogue.
Be firm in your stance and oh, so respectful and merciful to others who do not share your perspective.
If it is good, say so, not just because it is "Christian" but if the quality, production, acting, directing, cinematography is of a good quality. If it stinks, don't make excuses for it.
And remember, the church doesn't need Hollywood for us to be relevant, meaningful, and accepted. Hollywood needs us to be faithful, prayerful, joyful, hopeful, merciful, smart, just, insightful, and truthful. We are already relevant because the King loves us; we have meaning because Jesus died and rose to give us abundant, meaningful life; He has already accepted us. Our lives are based on and blessed by Him. The greatest witness to this world will come from the church that really believes those aforementioned truths, not from the silver screen. When done right, the silver screen merely reflects what we already know.
Hooray for Hollywood: yes, no, and sometimes,
We pray for Hollywood: yes.
Cos
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Here Comes the Sun
I'm not great with numbers but I think we now have had 33 days in a row without sun. Best not to quote me on that. Or this.... I think it has rained 22 days and snowed a few more during the last three weeks. I'm not saying it has been wet and sloppy but Hill Regional Hospital reports from their maternity ward that three boys and one girl were named "Noah" during the past two weeks.
The average temperature for the last ten days of February was 33 in DFW, but I'm not complaining. One reason I'm not complaining is I've seen pictures from Boston. What have I to gripe about? Another reason I'm not complaining is that another report has me almost giddy this morning. Yes, it is raining as I type this. Yes, a cold front in bearing down on us and it will probably be bringing sleet tonight and 27 degrees in the morning. Yet, I am excited. I am so anticipating tomorrow.
Am I leaving for Florida to play golf and bask in the sun? No. Did I win a cruise to the Caribbean to enjoy 80 degrees on the islands? Naw. Are the grandkids coming? I wish. If that were the case I wouldn't even be here in the office. But I am truly looking forward to tomorrow, especially the afternoon, even though the high will only be about forty degrees with a cold wind.
What could possibly cause a guy stuck inside from cold, damp, rain, snow, and sleet facing another day of even colder, damper, sleetier, and ice-ier weather to be looking forward to tomorrow with joyful anticipation? Well, I know what's coming. The sun'll come out tomorrow! The local weather wizards Fenfrock, Delkus, and Mowry all agree: here comes the sun. And I say its all right. Yes, tomorrow will be a cold, blustery day but with some afternoon sun. Life is good.
I am so looking forward to seeing the sun. It made me think of the Apostle Paul writing the church at Philippi. His letter is called the epistle of joy. Paul is in prison, most probably Rome. His circumstances are obviously less than ideal and yet he writes with such joy and hope. He does this not because of his circumstances but in spite of them. He is looking forward to what he knows is coming and what is coming is a cause for full joy. Look at his words from prison:
Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.....Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1
Paul writes with joy because he is going to see the Son. If he lives, he expects to see Jesus born into the lives of repentant sinners. Paul expects to see the Son grow in the lives of new believers seeking to be more Christ-like in the faith. He expects to see the Son of God in the compassion and service His church renders in His name. If this imprisonment ends in death, Paul expects to see the Son in all His glory, up close and personal. Despite horrible circumstances, Paul can't lose, he is going to see the Son, to live is Christ to die is gain.
I will be happy tomorrow when I see our solar system really does have a star. I will see the brightness of our sun in the cold days of early March and anticipate its warmth as spring approaches. It will be a real feeling but one that fleetingly will give way to the desire for a cold, rainy day by July. My spiritual desire must be, in all seasons of life, that God will grow me and all of His children in the faith to where we are even more excited every day and each tomorrow to see the true center of the universe, the Son. That is our hope, that is our joy, that is our life, that the Son will come out today, tomorrow and for all eternity.
In the words of George Harrison McConaughey, "Here comes the Son...
And it's all right, all right, all right.
Cos
The average temperature for the last ten days of February was 33 in DFW, but I'm not complaining. One reason I'm not complaining is I've seen pictures from Boston. What have I to gripe about? Another reason I'm not complaining is that another report has me almost giddy this morning. Yes, it is raining as I type this. Yes, a cold front in bearing down on us and it will probably be bringing sleet tonight and 27 degrees in the morning. Yet, I am excited. I am so anticipating tomorrow.
Am I leaving for Florida to play golf and bask in the sun? No. Did I win a cruise to the Caribbean to enjoy 80 degrees on the islands? Naw. Are the grandkids coming? I wish. If that were the case I wouldn't even be here in the office. But I am truly looking forward to tomorrow, especially the afternoon, even though the high will only be about forty degrees with a cold wind.
What could possibly cause a guy stuck inside from cold, damp, rain, snow, and sleet facing another day of even colder, damper, sleetier, and ice-ier weather to be looking forward to tomorrow with joyful anticipation? Well, I know what's coming. The sun'll come out tomorrow! The local weather wizards Fenfrock, Delkus, and Mowry all agree: here comes the sun. And I say its all right. Yes, tomorrow will be a cold, blustery day but with some afternoon sun. Life is good.
I am so looking forward to seeing the sun. It made me think of the Apostle Paul writing the church at Philippi. His letter is called the epistle of joy. Paul is in prison, most probably Rome. His circumstances are obviously less than ideal and yet he writes with such joy and hope. He does this not because of his circumstances but in spite of them. He is looking forward to what he knows is coming and what is coming is a cause for full joy. Look at his words from prison:
Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.....Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1
Paul writes with joy because he is going to see the Son. If he lives, he expects to see Jesus born into the lives of repentant sinners. Paul expects to see the Son grow in the lives of new believers seeking to be more Christ-like in the faith. He expects to see the Son of God in the compassion and service His church renders in His name. If this imprisonment ends in death, Paul expects to see the Son in all His glory, up close and personal. Despite horrible circumstances, Paul can't lose, he is going to see the Son, to live is Christ to die is gain.
I will be happy tomorrow when I see our solar system really does have a star. I will see the brightness of our sun in the cold days of early March and anticipate its warmth as spring approaches. It will be a real feeling but one that fleetingly will give way to the desire for a cold, rainy day by July. My spiritual desire must be, in all seasons of life, that God will grow me and all of His children in the faith to where we are even more excited every day and each tomorrow to see the true center of the universe, the Son. That is our hope, that is our joy, that is our life, that the Son will come out today, tomorrow and for all eternity.
In the words of George Harrison McConaughey, "Here comes the Son...
And it's all right, all right, all right.
Cos
Monday, February 16, 2015
A Tear for Gary; A Kiss for Janie
When I wrote about black church names last time up, I didn't realize I'd be worshipping with black folks within the week. It turned out to be a bad, good thing. No maybe a good, bad thing? I don't know. Let me 'splain...if I can.
I got a text from Otis, my good friend from high school. Otis now coaches the Mighty Milford Bulldogs, the school we played for a thousand years ago. His text was to tell me that a classmate\teammate of ours, Gary, had passed away. This was sad with several layers of sadness. Gary had just turned 60, too young the way I look at it. He apparently had diabetes which affected his heart and died from these ailments. With better medical care he probably could have had many more years. Sad again. Gary died in prison, no way around that. He killed a man in a fight twenty or more years ago. That is what he wrote to me about 18 years ago. I never knew where Gary was after graduation and one day a letter finds me in west Texas at my church. It was from Gary in prison. He writes with great detail his side of the story. I have no way to measure, but the state measured out 20 years to life. I don't even know how accurate that is, but I do know that 20 years in prison turned out to be life for Gary. Sad again. We had corresponded off and on for a few years. I sent him some money for the commissary in prison now and then. He needed some basketball shoes once. Some money for ice cream and candy ( I didn't know about the diabetes). He hoped I could get him a good lawyer. Well, I could afford ice cream. I moved and we lost touch. My fault. Another layer of sadness.
Gary swore to me in those letters that he was a Christian. Maybe he wrote that because I was a pastor and thought I'd like to hear it. Maybe he wrote all those Bible verses and talked so glowingly about Jesus because he wanted ice cream money. Maybe he wrote it because it was true. His family was and is full of believers. It was his nephew or cousin that preached his funeral. Gary put thoughts and scriptures together in a way that seemed real, like he really knew Christ. I want to believe he did. I'm not sure if the family and friends of the man he killed feel that way. I hope they forgave him. Gary swore that God had. I decided on my part to believe him.
So I went to the funeral last Saturday in Waxahachie. The brothers and sisters were resplendent in their expressions of life and hope. I felt like I was back home in high school a minute. I was the only white guy there. The music man played the organ in a wonderfully blues-ee and jazzy way. He sang Tamela Mann's "Take Me to the King." It is a beautiful spiritual, sharing a longing from a broken life and where to find hope.
Take me to the King, I don't have much to bring,
My heart is torn to pieces, it is my offering.
Lay me at the throne, leave me there alone,
To gaze upon you Jesus, and sing to you this song.
Please take me to the King.........
The bishop was telling us that "It Aint' Over" and making heaven sound so good but I got to coughing and excused myself with a few minutes left in the service and drove over to Target. In a few more minutes my phone rang. It was Otis...."where are you, man? A bunch of folks want to see you and the family want to say something." So, we drove to Milford for the interment. The pastor read scripture. The family thanked everyone and invited all to the repast. Then several of us pitched in to lower the casket in the grave. They didn't have a "lift" for the job; two straps and four of us slowly letting down the casket into the ground. I thought of the irony of the picture. One of my jobs on the basketball team was to pass to Gary. I recorded several assists each game to him and Otis. This would be my last one.
Now it was time to visit and reminisce. I paid respects to the family and caught up a little with a few old friends I knew long, long ago. I actually remembered nearly all the faces, but not all the names. But then there was Janie. Janie and I were in class together with Otis and Gary and about a dozen others since Milford integrated the schools in 1967. For the first four years of junior high and high school, Janie and I were oddballs. She was the only black girl in our class and I was the only white guy. She got a soul mate about the junior year when Regina moved to Milford. Somehow we made forced integration work and forged good memories and friendships with few regrets and many good memories. I tried to fix one regret I had at the cemetery Saturday. Otis was talking with JoAnn, Gary's sister about being King and Queen at the homecoming in 1972. She wasn't remembering it but Otis was refreshing her memory. It brought my regret to mind. Janie was nominated to that same homecoming court. I was her escort. I remember standing there in my football uniform and she on my right arm. All the girls got flowers and the escorts presented them and gave them a kiss--all but one. I froze. Should\could a white guy kiss a black girl, even just on the cheek, in 1972 in Ellis county? Thoughts and ideas flooded my brain. I should have decided beforehand but it didn't even dawn on me. I started thinking about why it was a good idea, then a bad idea, and then the moment had passed. I didn't kiss Janie, my friend and classmate for six years, at homecoming. At the cemetery Saturday with Otis, JoAnn and others standing there listening, I put Janie on my right arm and stood beside her. I told the story of not kissing her 42 years ago and apologized. Then I kissed her right on the cheek. Someone said that was sweet. Several of us spent the next 45 minutes standing in the graveyard talking and laughing. There was life in that cemetery that day, in living color, and black and white.
It was a good, bad day.
Cos
I got a text from Otis, my good friend from high school. Otis now coaches the Mighty Milford Bulldogs, the school we played for a thousand years ago. His text was to tell me that a classmate\teammate of ours, Gary, had passed away. This was sad with several layers of sadness. Gary had just turned 60, too young the way I look at it. He apparently had diabetes which affected his heart and died from these ailments. With better medical care he probably could have had many more years. Sad again. Gary died in prison, no way around that. He killed a man in a fight twenty or more years ago. That is what he wrote to me about 18 years ago. I never knew where Gary was after graduation and one day a letter finds me in west Texas at my church. It was from Gary in prison. He writes with great detail his side of the story. I have no way to measure, but the state measured out 20 years to life. I don't even know how accurate that is, but I do know that 20 years in prison turned out to be life for Gary. Sad again. We had corresponded off and on for a few years. I sent him some money for the commissary in prison now and then. He needed some basketball shoes once. Some money for ice cream and candy ( I didn't know about the diabetes). He hoped I could get him a good lawyer. Well, I could afford ice cream. I moved and we lost touch. My fault. Another layer of sadness.
Gary swore to me in those letters that he was a Christian. Maybe he wrote that because I was a pastor and thought I'd like to hear it. Maybe he wrote all those Bible verses and talked so glowingly about Jesus because he wanted ice cream money. Maybe he wrote it because it was true. His family was and is full of believers. It was his nephew or cousin that preached his funeral. Gary put thoughts and scriptures together in a way that seemed real, like he really knew Christ. I want to believe he did. I'm not sure if the family and friends of the man he killed feel that way. I hope they forgave him. Gary swore that God had. I decided on my part to believe him.
So I went to the funeral last Saturday in Waxahachie. The brothers and sisters were resplendent in their expressions of life and hope. I felt like I was back home in high school a minute. I was the only white guy there. The music man played the organ in a wonderfully blues-ee and jazzy way. He sang Tamela Mann's "Take Me to the King." It is a beautiful spiritual, sharing a longing from a broken life and where to find hope.
Take me to the King, I don't have much to bring,
My heart is torn to pieces, it is my offering.
Lay me at the throne, leave me there alone,
To gaze upon you Jesus, and sing to you this song.
Please take me to the King.........
The bishop was telling us that "It Aint' Over" and making heaven sound so good but I got to coughing and excused myself with a few minutes left in the service and drove over to Target. In a few more minutes my phone rang. It was Otis...."where are you, man? A bunch of folks want to see you and the family want to say something." So, we drove to Milford for the interment. The pastor read scripture. The family thanked everyone and invited all to the repast. Then several of us pitched in to lower the casket in the grave. They didn't have a "lift" for the job; two straps and four of us slowly letting down the casket into the ground. I thought of the irony of the picture. One of my jobs on the basketball team was to pass to Gary. I recorded several assists each game to him and Otis. This would be my last one.
Now it was time to visit and reminisce. I paid respects to the family and caught up a little with a few old friends I knew long, long ago. I actually remembered nearly all the faces, but not all the names. But then there was Janie. Janie and I were in class together with Otis and Gary and about a dozen others since Milford integrated the schools in 1967. For the first four years of junior high and high school, Janie and I were oddballs. She was the only black girl in our class and I was the only white guy. She got a soul mate about the junior year when Regina moved to Milford. Somehow we made forced integration work and forged good memories and friendships with few regrets and many good memories. I tried to fix one regret I had at the cemetery Saturday. Otis was talking with JoAnn, Gary's sister about being King and Queen at the homecoming in 1972. She wasn't remembering it but Otis was refreshing her memory. It brought my regret to mind. Janie was nominated to that same homecoming court. I was her escort. I remember standing there in my football uniform and she on my right arm. All the girls got flowers and the escorts presented them and gave them a kiss--all but one. I froze. Should\could a white guy kiss a black girl, even just on the cheek, in 1972 in Ellis county? Thoughts and ideas flooded my brain. I should have decided beforehand but it didn't even dawn on me. I started thinking about why it was a good idea, then a bad idea, and then the moment had passed. I didn't kiss Janie, my friend and classmate for six years, at homecoming. At the cemetery Saturday with Otis, JoAnn and others standing there listening, I put Janie on my right arm and stood beside her. I told the story of not kissing her 42 years ago and apologized. Then I kissed her right on the cheek. Someone said that was sweet. Several of us spent the next 45 minutes standing in the graveyard talking and laughing. There was life in that cemetery that day, in living color, and black and white.
It was a good, bad day.
Cos
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Name That Church
Church names can be intriguing, compelling, funny, unfortunate, and tell a story or at least hint of a story behind the name. Some church names that come with the area or town make for an interesting name. In the community of Half Way in an unnamed state is Half Way Baptist Church. If you are in Maryland, you may want to join the Boring United Methodist Church. So much for intentional ministry at the Accident Baptist Church. At times it is not the place that puts a twist on the the church name but the play on words or intent to convey a message in the name. So there is the Lover's Lane Methodist Church, don't ask their teens about the submarine races. In one church, they either don't need faith or there's no charge for it at the Faith Free Lutheran Church. What's the story of the First Church of the Last Chance? I would like the visit the Original Church of God but will not go to the Perfect Church in Atlanta, as soon as I walk in they would have to change their name. Another interesting church name, not so thirty years ago, because of the way language use changes over time, jumps out at you---how would you like to attend the Flippin Church of God?
My favorites are the black Church names. They are descriptive, Biblical, hopeful, aspiring, and downright beautiful in many cases. The African American church in America, because of slavery, racism, and oppressive poverty issues, had much to overcome and deal with in the larger culture. They met many of the challenges with hope, faith, and love born out of their relationship with Christ as they looked forward to better days. This is seen in their church names which point toward Jesus and the Heavenly home He has promised. They picked Biblical names to reflect or identify with a story of inspiration, overcoming faith, and meaningful life. So an Antioch Baptist church reminds us that the disciples were first called "Christians" in Antioch-a place where there was opposition but where faith took root and grew deeply. A Mt. Zion Church in the community remembers the biblical Mt. Zion and the history of commandments, tabernacles, temples, and where Jesus, some believe, will return for His church. There are "Mt." churches in nearly every black community: Hebron, Moriah, Olives, Calvary and Pisgah. A church with Pisgah in its name remembers the original redeemer from slavery, Moses, and all he saw before his death as he looked from its heights onto the promised land. Can't you hear and see the images of freedom and promise in that church name?
Black communities often have "Macedonian" church names derived from the vision the apostle Paul had to go into Macedonia and take the gospel to a new people in a new land. The hope of the gospel and mission activity are caught up in the Macedonian name. There are Jubilee churches from the old testament jubilee when all debt was forgiven, all land went back to original owners, and slaves were freed- the whole gospel testimony in one name. I also like their use of a few superlatives. To point toward higher, greater, better days, put the word "Greater" in front of an old name. Mt Zion church becomes "The Greater Mt. Zion" church and Greater Macedonian church is, well, greater than the plain old Macedonian church. I would suppose some politics and splits show up in names now and then, also. But from the grand CME (Christian Methodist Episcopal) to the COGIC (Church of God in Christ) to the Black Baptists to the independent black churches their names meant something, said something, pointed to something or better, Someone. Lord bless 'em for that.
I always felt "out-named" by black churches. "First Church" usually just meant early arrival or "Something Ave." just meant Mr and Mrs. $o and $o" gave land to put a church there. Not that great ministry and missions didn't take place, but not much imagination, inspiration, hope, or aspiration was expressed in the name. I once proposed calling one of the mission churches I pastored, "The Glad River," church. It was the name of a popular novel by Will Campbell and came right out of scripture from Psalm 46:4 which says, "There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the Holy place where the Most High dwells. " We would stream out into the community making people's lives glad with the gospel. The church voted for "West Oaks," it was on the west side and there were lots of oaks around. One detractor to my proposal said it sounded like a black church. I took it as a compliment.
I suppose white folks could learn something from our black brothers and sisters in naming churches. But given history, culture, time, and paid consultants, probably not much will happen. Maybe the best thing any church can do, even if they are "out-named," is live in such a way that the people and culture around them know who owns them, directs them, redeems and loves them. May all churches be known by That Name.
Cos
*actual church names
My favorites are the black Church names. They are descriptive, Biblical, hopeful, aspiring, and downright beautiful in many cases. The African American church in America, because of slavery, racism, and oppressive poverty issues, had much to overcome and deal with in the larger culture. They met many of the challenges with hope, faith, and love born out of their relationship with Christ as they looked forward to better days. This is seen in their church names which point toward Jesus and the Heavenly home He has promised. They picked Biblical names to reflect or identify with a story of inspiration, overcoming faith, and meaningful life. So an Antioch Baptist church reminds us that the disciples were first called "Christians" in Antioch-a place where there was opposition but where faith took root and grew deeply. A Mt. Zion Church in the community remembers the biblical Mt. Zion and the history of commandments, tabernacles, temples, and where Jesus, some believe, will return for His church. There are "Mt." churches in nearly every black community: Hebron, Moriah, Olives, Calvary and Pisgah. A church with Pisgah in its name remembers the original redeemer from slavery, Moses, and all he saw before his death as he looked from its heights onto the promised land. Can't you hear and see the images of freedom and promise in that church name?
Black communities often have "Macedonian" church names derived from the vision the apostle Paul had to go into Macedonia and take the gospel to a new people in a new land. The hope of the gospel and mission activity are caught up in the Macedonian name. There are Jubilee churches from the old testament jubilee when all debt was forgiven, all land went back to original owners, and slaves were freed- the whole gospel testimony in one name. I also like their use of a few superlatives. To point toward higher, greater, better days, put the word "Greater" in front of an old name. Mt Zion church becomes "The Greater Mt. Zion" church and Greater Macedonian church is, well, greater than the plain old Macedonian church. I would suppose some politics and splits show up in names now and then, also. But from the grand CME (Christian Methodist Episcopal) to the COGIC (Church of God in Christ) to the Black Baptists to the independent black churches their names meant something, said something, pointed to something or better, Someone. Lord bless 'em for that.
I always felt "out-named" by black churches. "First Church" usually just meant early arrival or "Something Ave." just meant Mr and Mrs. $o and $o" gave land to put a church there. Not that great ministry and missions didn't take place, but not much imagination, inspiration, hope, or aspiration was expressed in the name. I once proposed calling one of the mission churches I pastored, "The Glad River," church. It was the name of a popular novel by Will Campbell and came right out of scripture from Psalm 46:4 which says, "There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the Holy place where the Most High dwells. " We would stream out into the community making people's lives glad with the gospel. The church voted for "West Oaks," it was on the west side and there were lots of oaks around. One detractor to my proposal said it sounded like a black church. I took it as a compliment.
I suppose white folks could learn something from our black brothers and sisters in naming churches. But given history, culture, time, and paid consultants, probably not much will happen. Maybe the best thing any church can do, even if they are "out-named," is live in such a way that the people and culture around them know who owns them, directs them, redeems and loves them. May all churches be known by That Name.
Cos
*actual church names
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Taste Buds
Tastes change as we progress through life. Oftimes that is a good thing-- think leisure suits, wide lapels, wide white belts, and brightly colored shirts with matching socks. Yes, I sadly confess I wore all those in much, much younger days but in my heart I still favored Wranglers and Justins.
Apparently, my taste buds have changed, too. I no longer retch at the thought of tomatoes, although not on my hamburger, please. I can't imagine salsa and some Mexican dishes without them. I've grown so fond of broccoli that I include it in my monthly eating of something green. Brussel sprouts are still a 'no go.' Mayonnaise is tolerable now in small spreadings. For fifty-something years if given the option, my salad would be 'dry.' Now I've found a few salad dressings I enjoy. In case you are wondering, "No, not that one." I'll very selectively pick my own. I've always enjoyed Chinese food since my first all-you-can-eat lunch buffet in my 20's, now I find through my youngest son, that I enjoy Thai food also. It seems that every few months, either accidently or occasionally purposefully, I find a new food to enjoy that previously had been on the "no fly past my gullett list."
What precipitated this new-found gastronomic adventure? Not sure. The Food Channel shows and 'Bizarre Foods' may have helped. Watching friends and family enjoying foods I thought anathema probably contributed. But I think something about the aging process that deadens some parts of the mind (and tongue) and opens some others must have played a large role in even trying new foods. Age also teaches you that you can live through more stuff than you would ever have imagined, although brussel sprouts may be pushing it. So there is more willingness to experience new things.
Have you ever wondered if God has spiritual experiences spread before us like a banquet but we are afraid to try them? The Psalmist said in 34:8 to "Taste and see that the Lord is good...." But like food, we don't discover the goodness of the Lord's spiritual food unless we are open to trying new things. People who don't rely on prayer never taste the peace of His presence when the 'earth gives way, the mountains quake, and the oceans roar and foam'' (Ps. 46). People who don't tithe may have never learned to enjoy the adventure of dependence on Jesus and see His provision beyond their bank accounts. What depths of insight may be ours if we really dig into His word for more than a sweet devotional thought? We tend to want a donut hole when He is offering steak. How might we acquire a taste for social justice and understanding poverty unless we spend some time working at a food bank, homeless shelter, or free health clinic?
Try a dangerous thing, pray a dangerous prayer. Ask the Lord to help you discover a new taste in His kingdom. Ask Him to help you taste His goodness in ways and experiences like never before. Look around, experience Him and His kingdom in new ways of love and service. I must warn you, however, He will answer that prayer, but you may very well discover a smorgasbord of grace spread before you like a feast. Your spiritual taste buds will thank-you.
Bon 'Appetit,
Cos
Apparently, my taste buds have changed, too. I no longer retch at the thought of tomatoes, although not on my hamburger, please. I can't imagine salsa and some Mexican dishes without them. I've grown so fond of broccoli that I include it in my monthly eating of something green. Brussel sprouts are still a 'no go.' Mayonnaise is tolerable now in small spreadings. For fifty-something years if given the option, my salad would be 'dry.' Now I've found a few salad dressings I enjoy. In case you are wondering, "No, not that one." I'll very selectively pick my own. I've always enjoyed Chinese food since my first all-you-can-eat lunch buffet in my 20's, now I find through my youngest son, that I enjoy Thai food also. It seems that every few months, either accidently or occasionally purposefully, I find a new food to enjoy that previously had been on the "no fly past my gullett list."
What precipitated this new-found gastronomic adventure? Not sure. The Food Channel shows and 'Bizarre Foods' may have helped. Watching friends and family enjoying foods I thought anathema probably contributed. But I think something about the aging process that deadens some parts of the mind (and tongue) and opens some others must have played a large role in even trying new foods. Age also teaches you that you can live through more stuff than you would ever have imagined, although brussel sprouts may be pushing it. So there is more willingness to experience new things.
Have you ever wondered if God has spiritual experiences spread before us like a banquet but we are afraid to try them? The Psalmist said in 34:8 to "Taste and see that the Lord is good...." But like food, we don't discover the goodness of the Lord's spiritual food unless we are open to trying new things. People who don't rely on prayer never taste the peace of His presence when the 'earth gives way, the mountains quake, and the oceans roar and foam'' (Ps. 46). People who don't tithe may have never learned to enjoy the adventure of dependence on Jesus and see His provision beyond their bank accounts. What depths of insight may be ours if we really dig into His word for more than a sweet devotional thought? We tend to want a donut hole when He is offering steak. How might we acquire a taste for social justice and understanding poverty unless we spend some time working at a food bank, homeless shelter, or free health clinic?
Try a dangerous thing, pray a dangerous prayer. Ask the Lord to help you discover a new taste in His kingdom. Ask Him to help you taste His goodness in ways and experiences like never before. Look around, experience Him and His kingdom in new ways of love and service. I must warn you, however, He will answer that prayer, but you may very well discover a smorgasbord of grace spread before you like a feast. Your spiritual taste buds will thank-you.
Bon 'Appetit,
Cos
Thursday, January 15, 2015
The Escape Plan
Last time up to write I shared about rhythm, the rhythm of life that God has put into our souls and our world.
It is a good thing. Rhythm fits with the way the world and humans were made in God's image and it helps us fit into His world and kingdom. When we follow needed rhythms of worship, rest, work, creation, and recreation we will find the joy He so graciously gives. Ecclesiastes 3 echos these rhythms.
In not acknowledging or following the rhythms in life we set ourselves up for burnout, failure, frustration, and inefficiency. For example, the farmer who plants his crop in the brutal cold of winter may work harder than anyone but he should not expect the seed to germinate. He has not acknowledged the rhythm of the seasons where nature itself has times for planting, growth, harvest and rest. The Christian who would grow in her love for and service of her King should acknowledge her need to worship, serve, rest, celebrate and other disciplines which would put her in position to truly live and enjoy life with her Lord. It is to her personal and corporate detriment that she doesn't seek to discover these sacred rhythms.
But, we need to exercise caution that our seeking and following the rhythms of life does not become ritualistic routine. We must never confuse rhythm with routine. Routines can be good, of course, but they can be done without thinking, without too much effort, without much sacrifice. We routinely brush our teeth, take a shower, drink our morning coffee, all good. To keep the sacred rhythms of life from degenerating into routine, however, is essential. To do less makes the Christian seem life the "walking dead" (not to be confused with the "waking dead"--folks who endure my sermons), Zombie-like existence with no real living in life. Where is the escape from routine that sucks the life out of life to discover the rhythms that put life and love into living?
Variety! Newness! Movement! Flavor! Look around at the world! We all need to eat to nourish our bodies that we may function as a human body should. But the good Lord gave us variety: peaches, corn, asparagus, blackberries, black-eye peas, pinto beans, rabbit, fish, lamb and beef etc and so on. Even variety within the varieties are ours as we enjoy different kinds of meat, fish, fruit and nuts. Take music as another example--jazz, symphonic, the blues, bluegrass, gospel, country and rock. Consider what the minister of music does each week. He doesn't use the same hymn with the same count. The rhythm we need is to worship but variety helps us worship with praise, celebration, lament, aspiration, or even mourning. If your worship isn't a boring routine thank your music director for variety in the rhythm of worship.
In much of our lives we need to take charge, no correct that, we need to be good stewards of our rhythms and bring the varieties, newness, flavors, and movements in our sacred routines into play. So we read the bible but read different books and themes within it. The Psalmist commands us to put a new song in our heart or sing a new song. This applies to all of life as we seek expressions and experiences that are new, fresh and different but keep us in sacred rhythm that honors God.
Okay, but how? To almost quote Paul Simon, 'there must be fifty ways to love your Savior.'
Find a new way to enjoy His creation-observe it; walk in it; photograph it; listen to it; plant it; dig it; adopt a squirrel.
Find a different genre of music from your usual likes and listen to it. Then do it again if you still don't like it.
Read a hard book; read a rare book; read a book from someone from a different political party; read a silly book; read a serious book; read a biography; read a history book; read books from the Bible you haven't visited in a while.
Eat a cuisine you haven't eaten before; eat one you haven't tried in a long time; eat a food you hated as a kid; tell your spouse why you still hate it; eat in a new restaurant; eat Tuesday night meatloaf on the good china at the big dining table. Sing your prayer before you eat instead of saying it (Doxology works).
Find a person or couple at church of a different age you don't know well and ask them to meet you for coffee or a coke. Say "hello" to a teenager with tats and face hardware, smile at them, and ask how they are doing. Get off Facebook and sit down and talk to a face; sit in a park or airport or mall and watch people; pray for them; pay for the person's food behind you in the drive thru;
You get the idea. The rhythms are the same. The days are 24 hours. There is night and day. There are four seasons. There are times to rest, to play, to love, to work, to worship. But within the sacred rhythms are endless ways to seek, know, enjoy, and love your Savior.
And there was evening, and there was morning....
Cos
It is a good thing. Rhythm fits with the way the world and humans were made in God's image and it helps us fit into His world and kingdom. When we follow needed rhythms of worship, rest, work, creation, and recreation we will find the joy He so graciously gives. Ecclesiastes 3 echos these rhythms.
In not acknowledging or following the rhythms in life we set ourselves up for burnout, failure, frustration, and inefficiency. For example, the farmer who plants his crop in the brutal cold of winter may work harder than anyone but he should not expect the seed to germinate. He has not acknowledged the rhythm of the seasons where nature itself has times for planting, growth, harvest and rest. The Christian who would grow in her love for and service of her King should acknowledge her need to worship, serve, rest, celebrate and other disciplines which would put her in position to truly live and enjoy life with her Lord. It is to her personal and corporate detriment that she doesn't seek to discover these sacred rhythms.
But, we need to exercise caution that our seeking and following the rhythms of life does not become ritualistic routine. We must never confuse rhythm with routine. Routines can be good, of course, but they can be done without thinking, without too much effort, without much sacrifice. We routinely brush our teeth, take a shower, drink our morning coffee, all good. To keep the sacred rhythms of life from degenerating into routine, however, is essential. To do less makes the Christian seem life the "walking dead" (not to be confused with the "waking dead"--folks who endure my sermons), Zombie-like existence with no real living in life. Where is the escape from routine that sucks the life out of life to discover the rhythms that put life and love into living?
Variety! Newness! Movement! Flavor! Look around at the world! We all need to eat to nourish our bodies that we may function as a human body should. But the good Lord gave us variety: peaches, corn, asparagus, blackberries, black-eye peas, pinto beans, rabbit, fish, lamb and beef etc and so on. Even variety within the varieties are ours as we enjoy different kinds of meat, fish, fruit and nuts. Take music as another example--jazz, symphonic, the blues, bluegrass, gospel, country and rock. Consider what the minister of music does each week. He doesn't use the same hymn with the same count. The rhythm we need is to worship but variety helps us worship with praise, celebration, lament, aspiration, or even mourning. If your worship isn't a boring routine thank your music director for variety in the rhythm of worship.
In much of our lives we need to take charge, no correct that, we need to be good stewards of our rhythms and bring the varieties, newness, flavors, and movements in our sacred routines into play. So we read the bible but read different books and themes within it. The Psalmist commands us to put a new song in our heart or sing a new song. This applies to all of life as we seek expressions and experiences that are new, fresh and different but keep us in sacred rhythm that honors God.
Okay, but how? To almost quote Paul Simon, 'there must be fifty ways to love your Savior.'
Find a new way to enjoy His creation-observe it; walk in it; photograph it; listen to it; plant it; dig it; adopt a squirrel.
Find a different genre of music from your usual likes and listen to it. Then do it again if you still don't like it.
Read a hard book; read a rare book; read a book from someone from a different political party; read a silly book; read a serious book; read a biography; read a history book; read books from the Bible you haven't visited in a while.
Eat a cuisine you haven't eaten before; eat one you haven't tried in a long time; eat a food you hated as a kid; tell your spouse why you still hate it; eat in a new restaurant; eat Tuesday night meatloaf on the good china at the big dining table. Sing your prayer before you eat instead of saying it (Doxology works).
Find a person or couple at church of a different age you don't know well and ask them to meet you for coffee or a coke. Say "hello" to a teenager with tats and face hardware, smile at them, and ask how they are doing. Get off Facebook and sit down and talk to a face; sit in a park or airport or mall and watch people; pray for them; pay for the person's food behind you in the drive thru;
You get the idea. The rhythms are the same. The days are 24 hours. There is night and day. There are four seasons. There are times to rest, to play, to love, to work, to worship. But within the sacred rhythms are endless ways to seek, know, enjoy, and love your Savior.
And there was evening, and there was morning....
Cos
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