God The Master Potter

Jeremiah is called the weeping prophet of the Old Testament. He was sad because of his lot in life. He labored alone since he was commanded not to marry. And his countrymen branded him a traitor since he called for submission to King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon.

He was sad also because of the foolishness of Judah. The people regarded Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem as a good-luck charm--they thought God lived there and they were invulnerable. Accordingly they fell into willful rebellion, idolatry and immorality.

Jeremiah continued to listen to the voice of God and learn about his plans for Judah.

One of the prophet’s most well-known experiences happened at the potter’s house (Jeremiah 18). There he saw the craftsman fashioning a vessel, but the vessel was marred. Then the potter remade the vessel into something useful.

This experience spoke to the residents of Judah who had turned from the Lord. God told Jeremiah to warn the people: “So now, say to the men of Judah and to the residents of Jerusalem, ‘This is what the Lord says: Look, I am about to bring harm to you and make plans against you. Turn now, each from your evil way, and correct your ways and your deeds’” (Verse 11).

The clock was ticking for Judah. Nebuchadnezzar was at the gates of the city. However, there was yet time to repent and trust God. The Lord could turn back the army of Babylon as easily in that day as he turned back the army of Egypt in Moses’ day.

Jeremiah has a message for the modern church as well when we find ourselves marred in the potter’s house.

Jennifer worked at an airport rental counter where she heard lecherous men call her “beautiful” every day. She went to lunch with one frequent traveler and became physically involved with him. A vessel named “marriage” was marred.

I met Jimmy in a prison class. He was arrested when his son was 12, and his son visited him on his 18th birthday. Jimmy acted foolishly and missed being a father. A vessel named “family” was marred.

Bob was a volunteer at church including serving as church treasurer. When an audit revealed irregularities, Bob admitted he’d been taking some of the cash offerings. A vessel named “integrity” was marred.

Our stories may not be as dramatic as these, but each of us has a story of brokenness.

Jeremiah said the potter remade the vessel “as it seemed good to him” (Verse 4). The potter had a good purpose and a good design for his creation.

The potter, of course, represents the Lord. The God of the Bible specializes in taking marred vessels and making them useful.

No Turning Back

We remembered lately the story of brave soldiers who found themselves at the Alamo in San Antonio. They’d faced heavy opposition for 12 days in 1836. Then on March 6 it was over in a few minutes. Texians repelled the attack twice, but not the third time. Forces under dictator Gen. de Santa Anna overran the fortress, took no prisoners and burned the bodies in a final act of humiliation and triumph.

Commander Jim Bowie was gravely ill and confined to bed when Co-Commander William Barrett Travis convened a meeting in the courtyard. Travis dramatically took his sword and drew a line through the dust.

“Those prepared to give their lives in freedom’s cause, come over to me,” he said.

All but one of the men crossed the line. Bowie shouted for his soldiers to pick up and move his cot across the line. Estimates are some 200 men died in this commitment of their lives.

This story is one of the enduring legends of history. A brass line embedded in the cobblestones represents the story at the Alamo today.

Jesus Christ never raised a sword but did draw a “line in the sand” according to the gospel writer Luke. Jesus told his followers that they must count the cost and be prepared to love him more than any other (Luke 14). Luke’s fellow gospel writer, John, said that after similar “tough talk” on the cost of discipleship, many left Jesus to follow him no more (John 6).

The modern church sometimes is accused of soft-pedaling the cost of following Christ. We rightly say he paid our sin debt, and when we accept his offer of forgiveness he freely gives. But the Bible also says we make a commitment to him as Lord (Romans 10:10).

We don’t use this word as much today, but it was significant in the Roman world. The emperor claimed to be Lord, and acknowledging his Lordship was often a demand of citizenship. To worship another as Lord endangered many. Emperor Nero fostered the first full-scale persecution of the church and had many Christians sent to horrific deaths, including the Apostle Peter. Their crime was doing acts of benevolence as they followed Christ.

Sometimes we in the modern church lament the difficult times we know in serving our Lord. “It’s so hard to serve,” or “someone criticized me,” we say. What most of us face in opposition bears no resemblance to what the early church faced. We should learn from the first disciples who believed the Lord Jesus Christ worthy of their best in life and in death. As the chorus reminds us, “I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back.”

Showing Affection In Church

The Apostle Paul’s familiar exhortation to “greet one another with a holy kiss” reflects a customary Mid-Eastern and first century greeting (Romans 16:16). Those from other nations yet greet one another in this way. We’ve seen European leaders welcoming our presidents at summits with a kiss on both cheeks, though American leaders don’t generally greet this way. “The Living Bible” renders Paul’s word “Greet one another with a warm handshake.” Customary greetings vary from culture to culture and over time.

I remember the 80s and 90s when it was common for worshipers to hold hands for the final benediction prayer or song. There was a sweetness that came from this when we were reminded we’re a spiritual family. Some congregations held hands as they concluded the service of communion. But then society grew concerned about germs. A church member responded to a worship survey we did at the time with a comment, “Holding hands ain’t sanitary!” So we eventually stopped this practice in our church, though I’m sure smaller groups continued to close their sessions this way.

The saga continues. It’s reported that candidates aren’t shaking hands as much in this political season due to fears of the coronavirus.

Many rural congregations take hand-holding a step beyond by hugging one another in worship. When I served full-time at a college, the administration told us not to touch, but when I went to church on Sunday, they called me “stiff” since I was reluctant to hug these salt-of-the-earth saints who’d done this from time immemorial.

Another consideration we face today is the misinterpretation of hugs. The “Me, Too” movement has rightly taught us about unwanted physical contact. Psychology identifies personal space, sometimes called the “bubble,” outward to about 18 inches. Most of us are restrictive about those we allow inside this space. Intrusion can make some people physically and emotionally uncomfortable.

Church leaders especially must be careful with affection since it can be unwanted or misinterpreted. I’ve known colleagues called to task over touching or hugging that some deemed inappropriate.

We’ve also sadly learned in recent years that some evil people have violated the personal sanctity of children. Accordingly, churches have instituted more stringent policies for contact with children since church must be the happiest and safest place for boys and girls.

I suppose there’s no quick answer to this issue of affection in church. Every congregation is unique and every decade is different. Affection is more cultural than theological.

But we can show our affection through ministry. The Apostle James said true religion means serving the most vulnerable among us (James 1:26-27). This kind of affection is needed in our hurting world and honored by the Lord of the church.

Courage In Difficult Days

Our church has studied the book of Acts in our mid-week Bible service for several months, and I’ve gained new appreciation for the missionary journeys of the Apostle Paul.

I remember how confusing these were when I read them in the maps sections of my Bibles over the years. One Bible had a Morse Code-kind of thing using dot-dot-dot for journey one, dot-dash-dot for journey two and dash-dash-dash for journey three. I got lost somewhere in Galatia. Another Bible I had used plastic sheets that lay down in consecutive order over the map of Asia Minor, and one could view the appropriate journeys on the inserts. I suppose this was a step above the Morse Code idea, though still a bit bewildering.

In our study I’ve used only one map at a time, and I think the journeys are easier to follow.

I’ve also seen that Paul’s journeys weren’t carefully prepared like the auto club used to do it with maps in spiral binding, or as we’d do so today with computer apps. Paul let God lead him to a place, how long he should stay and where he should go next. Nor did he seem to worry about accommodations. He trusted God to provide willing hosts in every village.

Not only was Paul confident in God’s leadership; he was courageous.

The story of his treatment in Lystra is well-known (Acts 14). The townspeople thought Paul and Barnabas were gods in the flesh after a miraculous healing. We believe Barnabas must have been built like a linebacker since Lystrans called him “Zeus,” and Paul must have been the chief spokesman since they thought he was Hermes, the messenger with winged feet.

The fickle crowd soon realized their mistake and stoned Paul, dragging what they believed to be his corpse out of their city.

Some believe Paul actually died in Lystra and then experienced his mysterious vision of heaven (2 Corinthians 12:1-9). And his famous “thorn in the flesh,” or physical ailment, may have occurred in Lystra, too. He might have experienced internal organ damage or broken bones that never healed properly. But whatever the case, Luke said Paul revived, got up and went back into the city. The apostle had to be fearless to risk seeing his assassins later on the same day.

We also read that he went back to Lystra on journey two, this time picking up native son Timothy as a helper for the remainder of his life.

Billy Graham said, “Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened.” Paul’s courage inspires us to persevere despite difficult circumstances. We learn to trust God no matter what we face.

Beware The Little Foxes

After a “dry run” at our current tax forms, my wife found an interest statement she’d overlooked from the U.S. government. She cashed an old savings bond last year and made about $10 in interest. This slight amount will only make a difference of about $1 in our tax calculations-- hardly worth the trouble of re-figuring all my draft forms--but we all must find ourselves in obedience to our Uncle Sam!

This experience reminded me of King Solomon’s well-known word in Song of Solomon 2:15: “Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.”

The little foxes caused big trouble for the vineyard owner, and it’s often the little things that cause big trouble in our lives.

Sometimes we find ourselves speaking sharp words in thoughtlessness or in anger, and these words can injure the receiver. Many relationships have been jeopardized by words spoken in haste. Perhaps it was a single word, or a few sentences, but these small utterances can create great harm. King David prayed, “Set a watch, O LORD, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips” (Psalm 141:3). We all need God to guard our mouths.

A lady once explained to me how her life was ruined professionally. She handled cash and found it easy to scrape a little off the desktop when no one was looking. She grew bold and began to take larger amounts. An audit revealed irregularities and soon she was dismissed and facing legal charges. It all began with a small assault to personal integrity, but these small steps made a big difference.

The same Lord we ask to guard our lips should be invited to guard our hearts, too.

I met a pastor in another state who was dismissed from his church for moral reasons. He came upon internet pornography and developed a fascination with it. He grew bold enough to use his church’s Wi-Fi; accordingly, he was discovered. I’m not sure what kind of mental image I had of someone caught in a web like this, but he was a sharp young man who spoke well and had a winning personality. But he fell into what Luke Skywalker called “the dark side.”

Scripture warns us about the “little” things that make a big difference in our lives.

Many of us grow overconfident without coming to terms with our susceptibility to bad choices. We’re all broken and sinful, and we need God’s kindness when we seek his forgiveness. We gratefully acknowledge he is a God of mercy. He’s invited his church, likewise, to share in the ministry of mercy. We need restoration and affirmation from Christian brothers and sisters as well.

The More Things Change, The More They Remain The Same

A guest recently remarked that he enjoyed worshiping in our church since he’d had trouble finding a congregation who sang hymns. I was surprised at this comment, though I’m aware worship trends continue to evolve. Or do they? I remember as a teen-ager we sang choruses in our traditional church—choruses like “Thank You, Lord” and “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus.” Granted these weren’t as upbeat as some modern choruses, but we had them as supplements to classic hymns.

And my boyhood church did a great job preparing us for worship leadership. Music ministers allowed two of my friends to direct and to sing, and our pastors let the two of us young preachers have his pulpit occasionally. How patient these kind saints were to tolerate us youngsters! I cringe when I think of some of the theology I had and the people skills I didn’t have.

Of course the system I grew up in is different from other denominations. Some churches have a waiting period and a licensing procedure for young ministers. In my church when a young man announces he’s called, the pastor often says, “Fine. Preach next Sunday.”

A friend jokingly told about the three main points in his first sermon: “Read the Bible, go to church and be good.”

“That’s all I had,” he said.

My first sermon was 11 minutes, and I can’t remember my main points. Perhaps this is a blessing. We live in an era in which what people said 20, 30 or more years ago comes back to bite them. I find myself quoting George W. Bush who famously described his youthful life, “When I was young and foolish, I was young and foolish.”

Our church had an annual youth week and allowed us teens to teach adult Sunday School classes. I remember one of these weeks when my adult men’s class was in the choir loft since we were cramped for space. How tolerant these men were. And Sunday nights were a special time when youth read scripture, sang and shared testimonies of God’s work in our lives.

Again, we live in an era of change. The majority of Sunday night services in our area have been discontinued. Sociologists tell us Sunday night has become an “at home” night--a time to get children ready for school the next day. Accordingly, restaurants and theatres have their smallest patronage on Sunday nights. So the church looks for other venues for teaching.

Many things have changed, but the mission of the local church hasn’t. We gather to praise God, to hear his word, to grow in relationship with one another and to focus on the needs of hurting people in our communities.

Is Compromise A Bad Thing?

It was a brand-new request for me. A friend said he needed someone to sit with him and his wife and their two lawyers and try to negotiate a way forward with some sincere give and take. I immediately thought of two images of myself. One was faithful Daniel in the den of lions, and the other was the soldier in the middle of the battlefield being shot at by both sides!

But I agreed to do whatever I could to be of service.

I remember my dad talking about this kind of thing when he served as an officer in the local steelworkers’ union. When management and labor came to an impasse, sometimes the opposing sides would agree to arbitration. The arbiters came in to find a way forward through compromise. It must have worked because dad continued to make steel until he retired.

Some declare compromise a bad thing. I’ve heard Christians say this over the years when referring to moral issues. And I believe this is true. The church holds to a moral standard no matter the current public opinion. We don’t poll, then decide.

One of my mentors, now deceased, once told me about his response whenever alcohol referendums came up.

“I’m fully aware there are drinkers in my church,” he said, “but I will be on the anti-drinking side whenever there’s a vote. I’ve seen the evil of this, and I have a responsibility to speak out.”

But on a host of other issues compromise isn’t a bad thing. I’m convinced most church fights don’t involve  theology, though this sometimes happens. Most church fights involve leadership, or “who’d going to be the boss?” In the congregational system the people are the “deciders,” as President Bush 43 used to say. And decisions can be fractious. How often do sincere people disagree over paint and carpet, which have little or nothing to do with the kingdom of God? Some of these disagreements seem important at the time, but the specifics fade in our memories over the years. What remains is brokenness and suspicion.

This is why arbitration or compromise can be good. Opposing parties can find middle ground and come closer to one another.

And there’s scriptural precedent.

The early church struggled with the “Gentile question.” Is the church for Jews only, or should we welcome non-Jews? Leaders convened a council for consideration and decided to welcome their Gentile brothers. But they also asked new believers from other nations to be sure to respect Jewish traditions so as not to create further friction (Acts 15). In this spirit of compromise the church understood their mission to take the gospel to all people. Compromise paved a way forward.

Using Humor Effectively

A lady remarked a few months ago how much she enjoyed the pastor’s good humor in the pulpit. I remembered  how someone else in a different place responded to a worship survey: “The pulpit is no place for levity. The pastor should refrain from joking.”

I’m sure there’s truth in both observations. The pulpit is not a place for stand-up comedy. The responsibility of sharing God’s word is a heavy weight indeed. The ancient prophet Malachi called it the “burden” of God’s word. Many of us older pastors, now wiser, have apologized to our families that we’d often been preoccupied on weekends as the task of preaching loomed before us. Pastors are generally more relaxed on Saturday when guest preachers are scheduled on Sunday!

On the other hand, Solomon insisted laughter is good medicine (Proverbs 17:22). Medical professionals agree we need a daily dose of laughter to counter the anxieties of our age.

And we have a notable example.

Theologian Elton Trueblood wrote “The Humor of Christ” in 1975. He insisted many of the sayings of Jesus were actually Aramaic “punch lines” provoking laughter as a teaching tool. Public speakers know that humor and stories, or anecdotes, are what people most often “take away” from presentations; thus linking these to scriptural principles can make a speaker more effective.

But a good lesson to remember about humor is it can be misinterpreted and can be hurtful.

Many of us in public service are expected to be conversational and in good spirit as we meet and greet others during the week. Familiarity means we might have a shared dialogue with those we know well, such as restaurant servers. For example, I know several bank tellers by name. When they ask how they can help me, I sometimes say, “Turn off the cameras and give me all your money.” We laugh, but I wouldn’t dare say this to an employee I don’t know and risk arrest! New people we meet or those we don’t know well may be offended by banter they interpret as rude or insensitive when we’re simply trying to be light-hearted.

Wit to one may be insult to another, so public figures need to be swift to offer apology as needed.

Perhaps the safest kind of humor is self-deprecating, or humor at our own expense. First lady Barbara Bush was masterful at this. When the Bushes came to the White House in 1989, reporters asked Mrs. Bush how she was different from former first lady Nancy Reagan.

“Well,” she said, “Nancy is a size 4 and I’m a size 44!”

Self-deprecating humor is generally safe, and if used wisely, can be appropriate and effective in our presentations and conversations.

On 'Sounding The Trumpet' When We Give

I was called on to help with a funeral in Selma recently, and the visit gave opportunity to remember many experiences and friendships from the years we lived there. I also remembered one of the most interesting telephone calls I ever had.

A pastor’s wife called to ask for advice. She said her family gave so much to their church that they didn’t have much money left for the family’s needs. I admitted this was a unique problem and I’d never know anyone else who gave “too much” to their church. She explained that their church had a particular way of receiving and publicizing offerings.

“At the end of the service one of the officers announces the gifts given that morning and the names of the donors,” she said. “My husband is the pastor and he knows he has to set the example so he most often gives a larger amount than we can really afford.”

I’m not sure I had much wisdom for this nice lady that day, though I tried to be sympathetic. I have reflected on this experience many times over the years.

In my denomination we encourage sacrificial giving, but we try to make giving a private matter.

We had a boyhood pastor who made no secret that he looked over the giving records.

“Some of you don’t pay your share of the power bill!” he thundered.

This pastor did nothing but generate resentment.

One church I served began a fund-raising program for a new children’s building. Our consultant explained that the pastor must announce his financial commitment to the church as the program began. I wrestled with this more than about anything else in my life since I was not accustomed to calling attention to our giving. I finally talked about our commitment obliquely, comparing it to  the price of a premium cup of coffee each day. At the time, this was a sacrificial gift for our young family in addition to our regular gifts to the church.

Jesus taught us not to “sound a trumpet” when we give. He used the well-known exhortation, “Let not your right hand know what the left hand is doing” (Matthew 6:2-4). The point is that giving is a commitment between us and God. We either choose to let him reward us, or we can give in a way that calls attention to ourselves and choose to receive the praise of others as reward. Jesus gave the same warning about prayer and fasting, too.

On the other hand, a mother and father’s giving can be one way to model generosity to their children.

Giving to God’s work through our churches requires careful thought, earnest prayer and a proper attitude.

The Church And Cell Phones

Years ago when home visits were more common, I remember countless visits for the church when I competed with blaring televisions. One training program many of us took in the day suggested trying to sit between the  person and the television, or saying, “I’m interrupting your program—can I come back later?” Now, of course, a viewer can click “pause” or “record” and not miss anything.

 But we have new competition today—the cell phone. Stats say 96 percent of Americans own one. No one is ready to return to the wall phone or the party line, but it’s sad that common courtesy is often elusive.

 Public schools have instituted cell phone policies. For example, one local high school decrees cell phones mustn’t be visible in class unless teachers give permission for research. And for good reason. We’ve seen the diminishing of verbal skills among our youth. It was announced lately that for the first time Americans communicate more online than face-to-face. Research shows people are prone to be more direct, often angrier and less grammatically precise online than in person. In  this way, online communication can be like an anonymous survey.

Another open question is how the present generation will fare in job interviews if unskilled in interpersonal communication and good eye contact.

Many churches have instituted policies, too, posting announcements in their programs about turning off electronic devices or asking ministers to request this. Funeral directors make this request also before services in their chapels. I conducted a funeral last year in which an attendee’s phone rang three separate times before he got the idea to switch it off.

However, cell phone use is hard to police in churches. Many use cell phones as their scripture, enjoying 30 or more translations and larger font with a single click. But it’s wrong to frivolously text or visit Facebook while hymns of praise are sung, and the word of God proclaimed. Remember the nursery rhyme about the pussycat who “went to London-town to see the queen,” but ended up chasing a mouse instead? Priorities askew.

Recently I visited with a lady recuperating in the hospital from a very serious illness. While she told me about what she’d faced and how God brought her through, one of her adult children never looked up from her phone. As I prepared to offer prayer I wondered if I should, for the first time ever, ask the daughter to put her phone away so we could pray. It reminded me of the times we used to say, “Can we turn the television off so we can pray together?”

Cell phones are wonderful tools, but like other tools, must be used courteously and responsibly.

Welcome 2020

It was so long ago that the principal at the elementary school greeted us at a school program and said, “This is the class of 2000!” All us parents laughed, not having thought of what lay in store 12 years ahead. The graduation year came and went without major incident, despite the Y2K fears. Now we stand on the verge of another momentous year: 2020.

There’s something encouraging about a new year. Maybe the turning of the calendar page or putting a new blotter on the desktop is psychological—we think of new beginnings. We think about aspects of our lives that can be different.

A friend has lost more 40 pounds in the last few months. He told me he realized he’d been a slave to food and got winded when bending to tie his shoes. Now he looks and feels better and sleeps without his sleep apnea machine. All it took was a good and hard look at his alternatives, and he made a new choice.

We do this, too, with money. We can choose the latest fashion, the largest house and the shiniest automobile in the neighborhood, living beyond our means, or we can get realistic with our needs and quit trying to impress.

Another friend told about going to his insurance agent to update information after purchasing a new car. The agent asked who the lien holder was, and he said none—he paid cash. The agent remarked he didn’t hear this much. My friend said he heard the late financial counselor Larry Burkett years ago encouraging listeners to continue making car payments to themselves after their cars were paid off, thus saving for the next purchase. Burkett helped many people get out of debt with this and other practical advice. Dave Ramsey does this today, and most often at a higher decibel level!

Relationships offer fertile ground for change as well. I’ve known sisters and brothers from the same families who grew angry over this and that and ended relationships. The older I get the more puzzled I am over this. Life is short and family is important. Like the prodigal son in Jesus’s story discovered, home and family may be all we have in a time of need.

When seeking restoration it’s normally not helpful to dredge up and analyze the past. It’s more beneficial to be humble, to express heartfelt sorrow for brokenness and to ask permission to start again.

Another relationship that may need attention is with the God who gave us life. We’re assured he stands ready to greet us with mercy in the new year. He wants us to walk the uncharted paths of 2020 in partnership with him.

Do Not Be Afraid

I was a boy in suburban Birmingham when a man pounded on our door one night. We came to learn he was drunk and believed our house was his house. My dad was working overtime in the nearby steel mill, so I was the man of the house. My mother and sister were terrified. The man wouldn’t listen to us asking him to go away. Then he began to walk down the stairs to the basement entrance that I remember I failed to lock that night. I raced down the inside stairs and turned the lock just as he touched the outside doorknob. Then I ran out the front door to the retired police officer next door who came and held him at bay until the police arrived.

This intruder was so tipsy he probably wasn’t much of a threat, but we didn’t know it that frightful night.

I remember another boyhood fear. Pete, the neighborhood bully, somehow got me in his crosshairs. He never touched me, but he kept telling me what he was going to do to me.

My older brother, home from college one weekend, quoted FDR to me: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” This may be where my love of presidential history came about!

The state highway department was in the process of buying our neighborhood to expand the interstate highway system, so we soon had to move, and I left Pete behind.

I’ve often wished I could see Pete again after all these years. I’ve watched every episode of “Walker, Texas Ranger” at least twice, and I believe I could defend myself!

Fear often makes its home in our lives. One website, phobialist.com, lists 530 phobias identified by psychology. Though some may sound a bit trivial, they nevertheless affect a percentage of the population.

It’s striking that an oft-repeated admonition of Christmas is “fear not.” An unnamed angel appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him “Fear not.” The angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah to announce the birth of John the Baptist, and the angel said, “Fear not.” Gabriel then told Mary, “Fear not.” And yet another unnamed angel came to the shepherds in Bethlehem’s fields to say, “Fear not.”

And in each of these four cases, the individuals heard the command not to be afraid, and they obediently did what God asked them to do.

The message to modern believers is that our creator doesn’t want us to live in fear. He wants us to have faith in and obey the Christ of Christmas—the one whom Zechariah and Elizabeth’s son, John, later called the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29).

Hallelujah, How The Angels Sang?

The book of Acts tells about Aquila and Priscilla who were helpers in the early church. They had the gift of exhortation, or encouragement, and demonstrated this by serving the apostle Paul, and the teacher Apollos. Apollos is virtually unknown except as an itinerant teacher who spent time in Corinth and, some propose, wrote the book of Hebrews. In his early days he had godly zeal but wasn’t schooled in the fundamentals as he should be. Thus, Aquila and Priscilla took him aside and “taught him the word of the Lord more closely” (Acts 18:26).

I’ve had a few descendants of this couple over the years who tried to school me, too. Sometimes they were correct, but sometimes they seemed argumentative.

One of the latter type stopped me after a Christmas sermon and insisted I’d been in error when I talked about the angels singing at Jesus’ birth.

“It says ‘said,’ it doesn’t say ‘sang,’” he declared.

I looked at Luke 2:14 and discovered he was exactly right. I consulted the Greek lexicon and found “lego” is the verb for “speak,” and the one used in this passage, but “humneo” is the word for “sing.” This second Greek verb is the root of our word “hymn.”

I discovered that nowhere does the Bible specifically say the angels sang. It might be inferred they sang as they praised the Lord, but we can’t be dogmatic about this. We do know their major function was serving as messengers for the Lord; a “Western Union” kind of calling.

So, angels may not sing. And to further compound our traditional understanding we find that angels are always described as males. Stephen, the first Christian martyr, had “the face of an angel” (Acts 6:15). So much for “she sang like an angel.” In fact, any woman claiming to be an angel could be the devil in disguise, as Elvis warned us years ago!

Upon further reflection it occurred to me that human beings are commanded to do something angels may not do; namely, we’re commanded to sing praise to the Lord. One website suggests there are 64 verses in scripture exhorting us to sing praise to the Lord.

I’ve known numbers of people over the years who’ve refused to sing. “I can’t sing,” they say, or, “I can only make a joyful noise and won’t try,” they say. Sometimes I’ll sweetly remind them that we all sing “Happy Birthday” to children and grandchildren and proudly stand at the stadium to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

Why would we not want to lift our voices in song and praise God as he commands? As Luther said, “In singing we all become preachers, telling out the good news.”

Voices In My Head

It was agonizing to purchase a new car lately. I shopped for 10 months and finally made a deal a few weeks ago. My old car was faithful for nine years, but now it’s gone and belongs to another. I purchased a vehicle that we used to call “foreign.” That’s when I heard my dad’s voice from heaven in my head.

Dad moved to Birmingham to work and raise a family before he and mom retired and moved back to north Alabama. He was a steelworker all those working years, and American steelworkers told us all to buy American. “Foreign” cars were a no-no. So whereas I heard my dad’s voice after all these years, I also had a comeback: “Dad, this car was built in Kentucky.”

I also have a phrase in my head one of our pastors used a lot when I was a boy. He said, “Israel is God’s chosen people, but we Americans are God’s favorite people!” Of course Romans 10 declares God has no favorites, but our pastor never seemed to notice.

A pastor friend and I conversed lately and agreed we’re thankful our sermons weren’t recorded in those early years because of the foolish things we said (and probably continue to say).

We come from the Baptist tradition in which a young man declares God’s call to preach, and the church says, “Fine. Preach for us next Sunday.” Being 16 or 17 we didn’t know much, so this was always a challenge. I’m grateful for the wonderful people who listened patiently and encouraged me to study and grow.

A lady told me something interesting several years ago. She’d heard a lot of sermons in the years I was in her church, and she remarked that I often talked about the lordship of Christ. She insisted it was a theme I referred to frequently and how it remained in her memory. I’m grateful she told me this, and happy this voice in her head was good and positive.

President Trump pardoned Lt. Clint Lorance on Nov. 15. Lorance had been court-martialed and was serving the sixth year of his 19-year sentence at Fort Leavenworth Military Prison. Evidence at his trial was contradictory, but the military court convicted him of war crimes in Afghanistan. After his release, Lorance appeared on a cable broadcast and was asked what he wanted to say to the president. “I love you, sir—you’re awesome,” he said. “I’d march to the gates of hell for you.”

Whatever the merits of this case, I think Lorance gave a response worthy to be kept in the head and heart of every Christian when we think of our indebtedness to the Lord Jesus Christ.

Winning And Losing

It’s been said that football is a religion in Alabama. Sadly, this is often the case.

A pastor I know always gave an exhortation on the Sunday before Alabama’s Iron Bowl game. He told the congregation half of them would be disappointed the next weekend, but they needed to remember it was just a game--it’s supposed to be fun--and they must respect the other side. I was so impressed by this, though I graduated from one of those schools, that I’ve spoken this exhortation most years myself. I’ve seen too many people who enjoy rubbing salt into the wounds of those disappointed over a game.

And since my son played every sport imaginable in high school, I always try to remember that members of the other team are valuable as the children of other parents. Our son wasn’t always on the winning side, but we tried to teach him to be gracious no matter the outcome.

Athletics makes us think about winning and losing.

How often do we see a player having a good game, scoring a touchdown or hitting one out of the park and then thanking God for this victory? Whereas we’re to honor God in all things, does this mean that the losing team experiences God’s disfavor? Is God always on the side of winners? Doesn’t he have compassion for everyone whether we win or lose?

The late New York Yankee, Yogi Berra, coached third base one day when he saw a player kneel before entering the batter’s box, and another player make the sign of the cross on the field.

“Hey, why don’t you guys leave God alone and let him watch the game?” he shouted.

Berra’s word was a bit over-the-top, but maybe there’s a grain of wisdom therein.

President Trump famously said his administration would win so much we’d get tired of winning. But no one wins all the time. I’m convinced we need a theology of losing, for sometimes everyone will lose. People of faith don’t always win, and people of character don’t always excel. And sometimes we learn valuable lessons by losing.

We should respect all who subject themselves to the rigors of competition.

President Theodore Roosevelt said, “It is better to try great things, even at the risk of failure, then to know neither victory nor defeat.” TR knew defeat when his party denied him a second nomination and his independent party lost, but he’s remembered as a great American. Athletics, and life, should teach us how to reach beyond our limits, how to work as a team and how to contribute to a greater society.

God, the master teacher, has lessons for us in winning and losing.

Empty Chairs At The Table

Thanksgiving is, indeed, a wonderful time for families and friends to get together and enjoy themselves around a table of good food.

I’ve been thinking lately about other memories from the holidays. I remember my boyhood pastor saying once that Christmas always had a tinge of sadness since it was the time his father died. Little did I realize for Donna and me the same kind of memories would materialize.

It was Thanksgiving, 1992, and we sat at the table with my in-laws in Birmingham. My father-in-law, Robert Bell, always a good-humored man, joked that afternoon about his getting older. He’d been forgetting things and laughed that a few days before he’d missed his cup while trying to pour coffee. A few weeks later the medical tests came back and revealed a brain tumor. He died that summer. 

The next Thanksgiving, my mother talked about her medical ailments. She’d not felt well for some time. Still not feeling well at Christmas, she had to go lie down in the middle of our dinner. Family members insisted on taking her to the emergency room. The doctor found a spot in her lungs, and suggested she go to a hospital as soon as possible. The good doctors at St. Vincent’s in Birmingham found the cancer that started in her right kidney had moved to other parts of her body. She died in only seven weeks.

The older I get the more convinced I am that what my boyhood pastor said is often true. Part of the mix could be that Thanksgiving and Christmas are more easily-remembered benchmarks for family losses. I’m not sure. But I do know that for many of us there are feelings of sadness and loss tucked away in the pleasantries of the holiday season.

But, maybe these aren’t entirely unpleasant memories. Despite their premature deaths, in our estimation, my family can look back with gratitude to the years we had with our parents. Mr. Bell was the gentlest and most generous man I’ve ever known. He worked hard for what he had, but was always willing to give of himself to help others. And what can I say about my mother other than she was a sweet and loving woman who was always my advocate, no matter what. The older I get the more I see her as a role model for what a mother ought to be.

Many of us think about those who won’t be with us on Thanksgiving. But we’re grateful that God loaned us some special people and enriched our lives through them. As Paul wrote to his Philippian friends, “I thank God every time I remember you” (Philippians 1:3).

Note: This column was first used in 2014.

Thank God It's Friday? Not So Much

I found a volume in a used book story a few years back on the life and death of President William McKinley. It was interesting to learn more about our 25th president. McKinley has the infamy of being our third assassinated president. The writer noted "a singular coincidence" that all presidential assassinations had been on Friday: Lincoln - Friday, April 14, 1865; Garfield - Friday, July 2, 1881 and McKinley - Friday, Sept. 6, 1901.

It struck me that 60 years after this book was written we had a fourth presidential assassination on Friday, Nov. 22, 1963.

I'm not sure what to make of this strange coincidence, but I often think of the Kennedy assassination when the Nov. 22 anniversary comes around.

My generation remembers being in grade school that fateful Friday when hearing the news. We also remember the somber weekend following and the funeral on Monday. And we feel inexplicably drawn in pilgrimage to Dealey Plaza in Dallas and the Kennedy gravesite in Arlington National Cemetery, just like Richard Dreyfus was drawn to the alien landing strip in "Close Encounters of the Third Kind."

I visited Dealey Plaza several years ago while studying for a few days at the Baptist seminary in nearby Ft. Worth. It was surreal to see first-hand those sites so emblazoned on my mind--the sixth-floor window, the triple overpass and the grassy knoll.

Americans are grateful that our government is one of law and the transfer of power normally takes place peacefully. We're not a country of mob rule as we see in other parts of the world with the loss of lives and property when people protest. Our citizens are generally respectful of government, as we're exhorted to be in Romans 13, and we live as responsible people.

But we also lament the fact that angry people have freedom to effect violence. Our democracy isn't a police state and we normally travel about and do as we wish. Accordingly citizens can abuse privilege, make some regrettable choices and do some terrible things from time-to-time, as we see in much too many episodes of gun violence.

Somehow we try to find equilibrium between responsibility and freedom.

Currently our nation is fractured between red and blue, the MAGAs and the Resistance. We have to find a way to go forward. Our county has too many overpowering needs that we can’t ignore due to partisanship.

Going forward won't be easy, but we have no better option.

As President Reagan noted in his first inaugural address, ". . . we can and will resolve the problems which now confront us. And, after all, why shouldn't we believe that? We are Americans."

Something Old, Something New

“Something old, something blue, something borrowed and something new” is an old rhyme repeated at weddings. I’ve known many brides through the years who’ve been creative in order to include these items in their bridal attire.

I suppose “something new” is the theme song of our age.

Those of us who have lived a few years now remember how things used to be, along with the exhilaration of new experiences.

My generation remembers the “party line” and the tolls for long distance calls. At one time telephone companies offered free long distance after 9 p.m., and I remember friends calling at that magic hour. As a boy in mission groups I wrote letters to missionaries around the world and think about the thrill of getting a letter in return with an exotic stamp on the envelope. I also remember the first time I communicated with a gentlemen in India by Internet. I hit “send” and the message traveled through cyberspace immediately. I told about this in a college class once and the students weren’t impressed! But one day they’ll share “change” stories of their own.

When Paul went to Greece in obedience to his Macedonian vision, he traveled to the intellectual capital of the world: Athens. Luke records an interesting commentary: “For all the Athenians and the foreigners who were there spent their time in nothing else but either to tell or to hear some new thing” (Acts 17:21).

Research says we have a lot of Athenians in America today who constantly search for the newest things in worship. People frequently flock to new churches in new places where the people do new things. Spiritual tradition is sometimes thought to be unwanted and out of date.

Of course most churches, even if they consider themselves traditional, now find themselves doing some new things. I spend time with PowerPoint these days, as well as Bible commentaries, when I search for images to enforce the sermon. I’m grateful for this modern tool, all the while thinking about some places I’ve preached in over the years that were so far out in the woods we were happy to have electricity!

New things are beneficial if they help us communicate, which is the main idea.

But something old shouldn’t be jettisoned just because it’s old. Old doesn’t automatically mean “bad.” Old things can be “tried and true” if they honor the Lord and present the message of the gospel. Old churches have a track record of integrity and visible results from what they’ve done over the years.

Old churches and young churches have the same message. The message is 2000 years old and it yet speaks of the power of God unto salvation.

Keep On Keeping On

Science debates the concept of perpetual motion; that is, once an object is set in motion, is it possible to continue motion forever? Whether this is physically possible is debatable, but that it should happen spiritually is non debatable. The inspired apostle Paul wrote, "Continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast" (Colossians 1:23).

What Paul meant is that if we stop moving forward in our Christian lives, we lose ground. Perseverance is the key to victorious living. Perseverance is much better than a good start and a bad ending.

Jesus taught about a sower whose seed fell in various locales. One group of seeds quickly germinated and sprang up, but withered in the sun. Another group likewise sprung up but had no rootage to sustain them. The point is obvious. A good start isn't enough! I've known some people who seemed to make a good start in their Christian commitment, but who weren't committed for the long term and withered.

Another analogy the scripture uses is infancy. New Christians are called babies, but mustn't remain babies. I don't think I've known anyone whose body remained infantile through adulthood, but I've known several cases in which cognitive skills remained infantile; thus grown men and women had the minds of little children. Both of these cases are tragic, and it's also tragic when believers fail to grow beyond spiritual infancy and remain spiritual infants.

Aesop made famous the story of the tortoise and the hare. What a foolish contest that was since the hare was much faster. But after a good start, the hare took a break. The tortoise made steady progress and won the race. As Aesop said, "Slow and steady wins the race."

We cannot afford to "take a break" from the path of Christian growth. When we stop we actually go backward.

And it's true that many people along the faith highway have taken the exit ramp.

Jeff Foxworthy makes us laugh with his redneck jokes. For example, "You know you're a redneck if your life has been changed by an episode of 'Walker Texas Ranger.'" He also gave us the redneck dictionary. One of his Southern verbs is "usedtuhcould," as in "Can you dance?" And the response is "I usedtuhcould!"

Their number is legion in Christendom--those who used to be committed to the faith. They used to attend Sunday School, or teach, or give or be a deacon or sing in the choir or have a joyful faith. But now all of this is past tense.

Going forward doesn't mean we don't mess up, for we all do. But it means we get up when we fall and press on to the glory of God.

Secular Vs. Sacred

I told Alexa to play “oldies” for me while doing some menial work last week, and soon she played a familiar song: “The House Of The Rising Sun.” This was never among my personal favorites, but it did bring back memories of a disruption at a Birmingham church because of it.

One Sunday morning the young music minister strummed his guitar to this melody while singing the lyrics to “Amazing Grace.” As I recall it fit pretty well. But he was accosted after the service by an angry church member. The man told him gospel should never be sung to the tune of a song about a New Orleans house of ill repute!

For many years it was alleged Martin Luther borrowed a German beer hall melody for “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God,” but it’s now believed Luther wrote the melody himself. But what if the reformer did borrow a beer hall song, or a young guitarist borrowed a popular song of his day to convey a spiritual message? Would this be so wrong?

I think the church has borrowed a lot of “secular” things and baptized them for God’s work.

Radio and television weren’t invented for the church, but there are many channels devoted to gospel broadcasting now. And Bible teaching podcasts are readily available. We were exhorted years ago that telephone book yellow pages was the best advertising for our churches, but who has a telephone book anymore? Now we’re told people visit our websites for service and ministry information.

And certainly we’ve relegated typewriters and spirit-master duplicators to the storage closet while we use the most modern computers and photocopiers for communication. Many church newsletters today aren’t printed but sent through cyber-space to be read on electronic devices.

At our church have a monthly printed newsletter, but we’ve discussed using text messaging in addition to our weekly e-newsletter we provide for members and guests. The younger generation is in a hurry, we’re told, and doesn’t have time to read e-mail!

Who knows what methodologies churches will use 10 or 20 years from now?

The late Oral Roberts was criticized when he moved his tent crusades to Sunday morning television and periodic weeknight “specials.” But he said, “I’ve never married a method. What works best is what I want to use.”

I showed a picture of  brothers “Larry, Darryl and Darryl” to a group of high school students lately and they had no clue who these characters from the old “Newhart” show were! I suppose a guitarist could use a tune from the 60s now as a vehicle for spiritual lyrics and only us seniors would know. But maybe we’d hear God’s truth in a fresh way.