Easter People

An author once labeled Christians “Easter people,” and I think it’s appropriate. We wouldn’t call ourselves “Christmas people” in the same way since Christmas came much later in history and was actually appropriated by the church from paganism. But the early Christians began to celebrate Easter immediately. The book of Acts records the church meeting for worship eight times on Sunday.

The first day of the week came to be called “the Lord’s Day” and was a reminder that Jesus rose on the first day of the week.

Pastors used to point out when they stressed the importance of night church that five of these eight references are to Sunday evening. Our culture has changed somewhat. A recent survey in our area found 60 percent of our churches don’t have corporate worship on Sunday evenings now (although they may have smaller group meetings).

But the real reason for Sunday night prominence in Acts is that Sunday was another workday. Believers had no other time than after work to gather.

To be “Easter people” means we live in hope. Granted, all of us go through periods that seem to be hopeless. What can we say to a person diagnosed with malignancy, or to parents whose child has died? At those moments we need to offer the ministry of presence more than the ministry of theology.

I’ve always believed we should refrain from rote responses in moments of terrible loss.

I remember a sad call I received on a Saturday afternoon long ago. The family summoned me to the hospital after one of our deacons apparently had a heart attack en route to a family wedding. I had only been there a few minutes when the doctor came to the waiting room.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “There was nothing we could do.”

The heart attack had been massive. The deacon’s wife wept. She looked at me and said, “Pastor, if I didn’t have Jesus, I wouldn’t make it.”

What she said was certainly true, though I hope she didn’t feel she was expected to say this because her pastor stood nearby. At that moment she could have grieved in the presence of family and friends while we said nothing other than “we love you.” Theology and reflection more appropriately come later.

But, on the other hand, I’ve heard countless people months or years after their tragedies tell of God’s faithfulness. They know the truth of Paul’s word that the “God of all comfort” comforts us in  affliction and uses us to comfort others in their pain (2 Corinthians 1: 3-4).

Easter reminds us that God was faithful to his son, and he promises not to abandon his many sons in their trials.

The Lion And The Lamb Of God

Rush Limbaugh mentioned “Tiger King”—the Netflix series currently number one with viewers on the network. He watched one episode, labeled it a “train wreck” and decided not to finish. However, another radio titan, Glenn Beck, said he was hooked until the end.

The program is about American zoos who keep and breed “great cats.” The series reveals that some raise these animals at home. The policy of our neighborhood association doesn’t expressly prohibit this, though the city in which we live requires animals to be on leashes. I surmise this would preclude a pet lion or tiger!

I remember reading in a Tarzan series about the adult lion, weighing 500 pounds, having the force of a sledgehammer in his paws. It’s hard to imagine keeping such a powerful animal at home.

Young David in the Valley of Elah explained to King Saul how he’d killed a lion to protect his flock. David became the king of Israel, and the Old Testament prophets foretold another man of power from his lineage to rule God’s eternal kingdom. John the revelator once described Jesus as “the lion of the tribe of Judah” (Revelation 5:5). John’s word teaches two things: Jesus came in fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, and as the lion, represents the power of God.

Though Jesus was reluctant to demonstrate power to make people believe in him, he nevertheless used his power. The disciples saw him heal the demoniac, still the raging sea and feed 5,000 people with a little boy’s lunch. He submitted to the cruelty of men during Passion week though he could have commanded 12 legions of angels to free him from captivity. The Apostle Paul said one day the risen Christ will confront the ultimate evil world ruler and destroy him with “the breath of his lips” (2 Thessalonians 2: 8).

It’s entirely appropriate for John to call Jesus the lion of Judah. He represents the power of God.  

But John most often called Jesus the lamb of God, using this title 24 times in Revelation. This analogy underscores Jesus’s mission 2000 ago. The power of God was his birthright, to be sure, but he also came as the sacrificial lamb who takes away the sin of the world.

This week the world remembers that final week before the cross. We think of the fickleness of humanity who cried “Hosanna” on Palm Sunday and “crucify him” on Good Friday. Jesus prayed that the awful burden of the cross be removed, but he also prayed to be obedient to God’s salvation plan.

The lamb of God provided a remedy for sin and promised the gift of eternal life to those who follow him.

Hallelujah. What a savior.

Welcome To Real Life

I responded to an offer to try the Lifetime Movie Club on a trial basis. I thought this might be  good entertainment during these days with few evening commitments. I’d understood LMC was a channel overflowing with happy programming. After viewing a few episodes, however, I realized something must be wrong. These movies are filled with double-dealing, disappointment and deceit.

A friend enlightened me.

“No, it’s Hallmark that has the happy movies,” he said.

I was wrong. This month I have the channel of real life!

I suppose that’s what we’re all experiencing in these days. Real life means no worship, no school and no hugging people we love. We pray this terrible contagion be over soon and we can return to real life.

But, actually, real life is not always happy. Real life has divorce, drunk driving, hunger, disease, abuse, financial crises and death. Real life will continue after COVID-19 is a distant memory.

I remember a Billy Graham film from long ago entitled, “For Pete’s Sake.” It was influential in my teen-aged years and a film churches used to screen on Sunday nights for a change-of-pace. This movie tells the story of Pete, a new Christian. Pete’s life was filled with good things, good humor and new discoveries until his wife had a seizure and died.

Of course, Pete was devastated to lose the love of his life. He confronted his pastor: “To think I trusted God, and this is the way he deals,” he said.

Pete had to come to terms with real life. And though some critics claimed otherwise, the Graham organization didn’t ignore this, but taught us the truth about discipleship way back in the 60s--being a Christian doesn’t shield us from the tragedies of life.

Jesus insisted that it rains on the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45).

We don’t live in a dream world. However, we know being a Christian means we have new perspective on tragedy. We believe God strengthens us in difficulty and uses it for ultimate good. Nor does he abandon us. We also believe we have new partners in the faith community to love us through pain.

The late Lewis Drummond was among my favorite seminary teachers. I remember a comment he made one day in class.

“When has God ever removed his people from tribulation?” he asked. “Instead, his promise is to see us through it.”

Who knows what trials await us in the days after COVID-19? I don’t choose to be a fatalist because by nature I’m an optimist. I believe God will see us through, that he has a good plan for his people and in his future kingdom he will set things right.

Steps To Spiritual Healing

With some unexpected “down time” this week I viewed a series for the second time about the fall of a major American news personality. This entrepreneur produced a classic TV show, trained politicians in media, founded two news networks and then fell into disgrace when it was discovered he’d treated more than 20 women employees shabbily, harassing and degrading them.

It reminded me that the present contagion will be over soon, we trust, but the contagion of willful rebellion against God remains. And we’re all infected. The Bible declares all have sinned and fallen short of God’s plan (Romans 3:23).

Scripture gives a number of exhortations for spiritual healing.

First, we repent. Both the Old and New Testaments use this word frequently. The word means “turn,” or some have suggested a military definition: “about face.” Repentance means a wholesale turning from trusting in ourselves and a thorough dependence on God. Sometimes it means remorse for our bad choices, but repentance is more than remorse; it must foster change in conduct.

Second, we receive forgiveness from God. The Bible assures us that when we meet his condition he will respond with mercy. No one who sincerely turns from sin has found rejection from God. He’s the loving father of Luke 15 who runs to meet the prodigal when he comes home, dresses him in the clothes of restoration and rejoices with feasting.

Third, we make restitution if possible. Restitution often underscores the genuineness of repentance since it proves a true change of heart.

Restitution is the Zacchaeus model as told in Luke 19. Zacchaeus was a tax collector known for his selfishness and treachery. But Jesus showed kindness to him in Jericho and the tax collector made a startling declaration.

“I’ll give half my goods to the poor, and if I’ve taken anything unjustly from anyone, I’ll restore four times what I took,” he said.

Zacchaeus’s love for Christ became more important than love for money.

Fourth, we forgive ourselves. Sometimes we cringe when thinking of the heinous nature of our sin. Our spiritual enemy makes us doubt we’re truly forgiven. But doubting forgiveness is doubting God’s word which we mustn’t do. His forgiveness is sure though the forgiveness of others may not be.

I talked with a friend recently who used an interesting phrase in telling me of his journey back to faith.

“I’ve found that some people choose not to make this journey with me,” he said.

This is regrettable, but true. Others may doubt our sincerity and disbelieve our repentance. But we must go forward in our journey, believe that God values us and seek to share the story of his mercy with others who need to know.

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.