A Fairy Tale Ending

“And they lived happily ever after.” This oft-repeated line is burnished in our memories from  childhood stories we heard so long ago. But they’re called “fairy-tales” since this is a fairy-tale descriptor for life. Life is filled with happy moments, to be sure, such as remembering our parents or grandparents reading these stories to us. But life is also filled with loss. No one lives happily all the time for all time.

Perhaps nowhere is this more pronounced than in marriage. Couples enter marriage with great expectations for a relationship of joy and fulfillment. But almost half of those marriages won’t last beyond ten years. What happened? Someone described it as when moonlight and roses becomes daylight and diapers!

I’m convinced there are many reasons why marriages fail. One is selfishness. Some believe the spouse’s role is to please them in every way, whereas the biblical view is to outdo one another in unselfish service (Ephesians 5:21).

Another reason, I think, is lack of preparation. This was true in my case. I asked the officiating minister when he wanted to talk with us about marriage, and he replied, “What do you want to talk about?” That was the extent of our pre-marital counseling. Because I was already committed to ministry, I think perhaps he thought I knew all about marriage. I appreciate the fact that people think ministers are smart, but most of us have track records that prove otherwise!

Some pastors won’t perform marriages for those who’ve been divorced, or for those who aren’t Christians. Though I respect this, my practice has been to try to be a source of encouragement and to make space for future ministry to couples whom I marry.

And I’ve made it a practice to schedule time to talk with couples before marriage about several things.

An instrument I’ve found effective is a questionnaire that probes some 30 areas as a discussion starter for couples before they’re surprised with these issues after marriage. We also talk about the value of Christian faith and sharing church life together.

Part of the encouragement I offer privately to couples is to be a source of counsel in conflict, if needed, or to recommend a professional, if needed.

I’m reminded of a friend who said a couple in crisis for whom he recommended a professional in the area recoiled when they heard the man had a counseling fee. My friend said, “If you had cancer, could you afford treatment?” He was gently reminding them that their relationship was worth the investment of a few dollars should professional help be needed.

 Marriages do better when both sets of eyes are open and a fairy tale ending is not expected.

Celebrating Our Uniqueness

My friend Wayne was a pastor in Montgomery. We visited one day, and he was excited to tell me about something he’d recently discovered. “Air Supply is the greatest music I’ve ever heard!” he said. He went on and on about how great this music was and gave me a cassette to take home. In those days we could play cassettes in our cars. I gave Air Supply a spin or two, but soon tired of them. Wayne thought they were great, but I stuck with Peter Noone and Herman’s Hermits, Anne Murray and Karen Carpenter.

Satellite radio has more than 60 music channels, so there’s music for every taste. And taste differs. Some like pop, some like country, some like contemporary Christian and some like jazz. We don’t have to enjoy the same music; we simply have to enjoy our music!

It struck me that the church of Christ is like this.

The apostle Paul used the analogy of the human body to describe the church in 1 Corinthians 12. He said one is the eye, one is the ear; one is the foot, one is the hand. Then he expanded his list to include the nose, or sense of smell. This isn’t an exhaustive list of organs, of course, but a representative list. Then Paul imagined a civil war in the body when organs disagreed over who was most important. His point was that every part of the body is significant. If one refuses to function the body is impaired.

In this chapter Paul underscored individualism within the body. He used the word “different” three times in vs. 4-6 and continued in v. 27: “Now you are the body of Christ, and individual members of it.”

Most of us have been shamed due to what others do. “Johnny comes in from school and does his homework first thing. Why don’t you do that instead of waiting until night?” or “Sam has an immaculate yard. I wish you did what Sam does.” And surely we can profit from the example of others. But in the body of Christ, we celebrate diversity. The body of Christ is filled with butchers and bakers and candlestick makers and no one is supposed to be a cookie-cutter version of somebody else. We are many parts and we’re designed by God to be special and unique.

Just as organs cooperate for the good of the body, Christians cooperate for the greater good of ministry.

In the church we proclaim that God made us just as we are, and he redeemed us to make us the best we can be, with his help. Our uniqueness makes each of us essential in the work of ministry.

In Praise Of Hymns

It was my privilege to know and work with the late John Atherton at First Baptist Church, Selma, Ala. John delighted in classic hymns and stately choral music. One day a zealous member accosted him about the absence of so-called “praise music” and said, “John, our church needs to learn to praise God!” John went home dejected and told his wife, Louise, the story.

“What does he think the church has been doing for 2,000 years?” she asked.

Louise was insightful.

The church has been praising God since the resurrection of Jesus, though we praise him in many ways. Some Christians enjoy Southern gospel music. Though I don’t do this as much now, “The Imperials” were my favorite group when I was a young person. Some praise God with classical music, such as Bach’s “Jesu, Joy Of Man’s Desiring” or Handel’s “Messiah.” I conducted a funeral recently and the family asked to conclude the service with a recording of “How Great Thou Art” by Elvis Presley. The colonial Puritans sang scripture in “The Psalter.” And don’t forget bluegrass gospel. All are used to praise God.

I wish we had a better descriptor for the so-called “praise music.” Maybe “contemporary” or “chorus-driven” is better.

I grew up in the Southern Baptist church, and my generation learned theology both from the Bible and from The Baptist Hymnal. It seems every day I remember a phrase to encourage me from hymns we sung in worship.

Recently our denominational publishing company asked me to write six short features for upcoming Sunday School materials as supplements to the lesson commentary. The assigned topic for one of the six was “Temptation.” I thought immediately of quoting an old hymn, “Yield Not To Temptation.” I didn’t find it in our hymnal and had to dig out the 1960 Baptist Hymnal to find it. I realized this hymn hasn’t been in our hymnal for years, yet I remember singing it as a teen-ager. And I remember how the lyrics urged me in times of testing to “Ask the Savior to help you, comfort, strengthen, and keep you / look ever to Jesus, He will carry you through.”

We called them “worship wars” when congregations fought over the kind of music they’d sing together, though now, thankfully, this seems to have lessened. We’ve concluded that we either must offer “blended” worship with a variety of music, offer multiple services featuring different music, or come to the realization that every church must find its niche, minister to its congregants and not try to be like another church.

Be that as it may, I offer a salute to the classic hymns that taught me how to love, serve and praise God.

Tasting Our Words Before We Speak

I was in what we used to call junior high when we visited my dad’s brothers in Indiana. One day my cousins asked me if I wanted some soda pop. I told them I’d always heard of this but never had any and would love to try it out. To my surprise, they brought me a can of what in Alabama we called “coke”—our generic descriptor of anything fizzy and caffeinated. I learned that words can be different north of the Mason-Dixon line.

South of the Mason-Dixon we have Jeff Foxworthy to thank for codifying many of our maxims. He writes that we don’t push a shopping cart but a “buggy,” things don’t tip over but “tump over” and I’m amused by his account of unattractiveness: “He fell out of an ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down!”

A communication professor pointed out that we can often identify several things on a phone call with someone we’ve never met: sex, age, education and country of origin. Our words define us.

The disciple Peter discovered this that awful day in Jerusalem when Jesus was arrested. We remembered this story lately during Holy Week. Peter was close enough to Jesus to see what was going on, but far enough away not to be associated with him, he thought. He warmed his hands near a fire and must’ve been talking nervously since someone heard his dialect.

“You’re from Galilee just like Jesus,” someone said.

“Oh, no; you’re mistaken,” he replied.

When the inquisitor continued, Peter reverted to cursing like the sailor he was to prove he didn’t know Jesus. The rooster crowed and Jesus passed near enough that his look of hurt broke Peter’s heart. Ministers a generation ago preached about Peter “warming his hands by the devil’s fire.”

Believers know our words demonstrate our commitment or lack of commitment to Christ.

The Message Bible has a striking rendering of Ephesians 4: 29-30: “Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift. Don’t grieve God. Don’t break his heart.”

A man in our church told me recently that he used terrible language before he became a Christian, but he never cursed in the presence of women. He also said though he used the name of God in his cursing, he never used his father or mother’s name in cursing. This underscores psychology’s assertion that we exercise some control in our choice of words.

As followers of Christ we should choose words of grace rather than words of degradation and insult. One lady insisted she “tasted” every word before she spoke them.

So should we all.

Toward A Proper Self-Image

Lately I discovered a radio station in our area that plays the music of the 60s, 70s and 80s—the really good music—at least in the estimation of us “seasoned citizens.” I heard a song I’d almost forgotten by the late, great Roger Miller. The chorus says, “Dang me, dang me, they ought‘a take a rope and hang me / hang me from the highest tree, Woman, would you weep for me?”

“Dang Me” spent 25 weeks on “Billboard’s” country music chart in 1964.

I can’t seem to get this chorus out of my head. I’ve thought about singing it next time I get shamed at home or work as a way of saying, “OK. I messed up. Pile on!”

The man portrayed in this song is really down on himself. 

Some believers approach the Christian life in the same  way, insisting we’re rebellious sinners unworthy of God’s love. As Jonathan Edwards exhorted long ago, God justifiably holds us over the flames of hell like a spider on a web. My generation sang Isaac Watt’s classic hymn, “At the Cross,” published in 1707. One of the verses declares, “Would he devote that sacred head, for such a worm as I?” Somewhere along the way the verse was changed in the hymnals our church uses to “for sinners such as I?”

I suppose the image of being a worm was too much for the hymnal publishers.

But all of this is true. We are rebellious sinners unworthy of God’s love. Thus theologians speak of grace. This means we receive God’s love despite our unworthiness: “grace greater than our sin,” as another hymn states.

On the other end of the theological spectrum is the scriptural teaching that God created us. Everything that he made he pronounced good, including man and woman. Psalm 139 declares each person was purposely “knit together in our mother’s womb,” and Psalm 8 declares we were “made a little lower than God and crowned with glory and honor.” The King James translators couldn’t conceive of such an amazing concept, so they used “angels” in v. 5. However, the Hebrew word is “Elohim,” one of several names for God in the Old Testament.

So we have two polarities on the spectrum of self-image. On the one hand, we’re marred by our lifetime of bad choices and willful rebellion. We fall short. On the other hand, we’re God’s good handiwork, made deliberately and lovingly by him, created in his image.

How do we maintain a proper self-image? Maybe self-concept is a balancing act. We avoid a prideful attitude at all costs, for pride leads to destruction, but we rejoice that He declares us worthy to have fellowship with him.

The Hardest Thing We Do

I used to say it was the hardest thing we do in our churches, though after a year of Covid-19, I think there might be another few things on this “hard-to-do” list. But I still maintain benevolence is in the top two or three most difficult things we do.

 Every church I know sets aside money for people in need. The needy can be members of the church, or they can be members of the community, or in some cases, strangers passing through the area.

Two churches I served were near major interstate highways, and it wasn’t uncommon for travelers to stop by for gasoline or a meal.

In one of these places the community churches received benevolent offerings at joint Thanksgiving worship services and dispensed the funds as needed. I was treasurer of this fund for a number of years and shared an idea with the pastors I’d heard from a friend in Tennessee. His community had a similar plan and discovered, to their chagrin, that they’d aided an escaped felon with their offerings. They turned to local law enforcement and began to send travelers to the police for the travel request forms where their drivers’ licenses were routinely checked first.

We talked with the two local police departments in our area and instituted the same practice.

Another interesting thing is that most of those we helped in that ministry promised to return the money when they reached their destination. This wasn’t a requirement of the ministry, but many offered. To my knowledge we never received any reimbursement to the travelers fund.

A pastor told me about a family in constant need in his congregation. He said he was compassionate when they had no food, but less compassionate when he saw how they spent money on fast food rather than following Dave Ramsey’s oft-spoken advice, “Rice and beans, beans and rice.” He was outdone when they brought home stray animals, adding another burden to their finances since they couldn’t feed themselves.

I understood his predicament.

We want to help people in need, even when they suffer from bad decisions they’ve made. As someone once observed, “We should care if a person hurts no matter what we think of what caused their pain.” True enough. But it’s also true that the benevolent funds we have come from the sacrificial gifts of our members. We have responsibility to them to give careful thought to disbursement.

For example, do we give money to those addicted to alcohol? What about those who lose money gambling?

I’m grateful our church asks the deacons to assist me in making these decisions. I value their insight in how to perform this needed, but often perplexing ministry.

A Friday To Remember

The wind in my face was bitterly cold in downtown Dallas a few years ago since the winter weather was yet lingering. My continuing education classes had ended at the seminary in nearby Ft. Worth, so the afternoon was free for some sightseeing.

A chill came over me independent of the temperature when I walked onto Dealey Plaza and saw firsthand those sights emblazoned in my memory from childhood: Elm Street, the triple overpass and the sixth-floor window.

I thought back to that terrible Friday in November, 1963. Our class had just returned from lunch when Mr. Vines, our principal, made an announcement on the intercom.

“Boys and girls,” he said, “some of you may have heard already that our president’s been shot. Let’s try to finish out the day in school and I’ll let you know the latest news when I hear more.”

It seems strange now that the principal’s table radio was our only connection to the nation’s pulse.

Nevertheless, the senseless death of President Kennedy so paralyzed us that I don’t remember our doing much work in school that Friday afternoon. I remember my family and me glued to the old black-and-white television throughout the weekend and during the president’s funeral the next week.

That Friday in November will live in the bad memory section of my brain forever.

This week the world remembers another bleak Friday on which Jesus of Nazareth was murdered.

His death was senseless, too, for he’d done no wrong. In fact, bribed witnesses were brought in to lie about him at his trial. One of the thieves who died with him realized Jesus' innocence when he said, “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong" (Luke 23: 41).

British writer Richard Jefferies told of a little boy who gazed at a graphic painting of Calvary and exclaimed, “If God had’a been there, he wouldn’t have let them do it!”

But God was there! He wasn't removed from the event at Calvary. Paul insisted “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself" (2 Corinthians 5:19).

God was present at the cross, and he showed us that he loves us in spite of disobedience, that he offers forgiveness to all and that he wants to be our partner in building a life filled with hope.

God’s redemptive plan wasn’t completed on Friday. The Father was faithful to his son and raised him on the third day. Now God promises to welcome all his children on the other side of death.

In light of God’s ultimate plan we believers have renamed that awful Friday. 

We call it Good Friday. 

And so it is.

A Lesson In Leadership

The young pastor wanted to see his church grow. The fact it was relatively small and stable in the middle of a growing community was burdensome to him. But he didn’t have his team on board. He didn’t know how to build relationships with key leaders and how to solicit their help in ministry. In fact, he lost patience with those who didn’t share his vision, thinking them unconcerned or unspiritual.

The pastor listened to leading pastors in his denomination for direction. Several mega-church pastors talked about their being “vice-regents” under God, and accountable to him for making major decisions about church health and vitality. One of these large-church pastors called himself a “benevolent dictator,” and in pastors’ meetings told about doing things without his deacons’ knowledge or approval because “God told him.”

The young pastor believed he was well-schooled and had a good grasp of biblical knowledge, but continued to listen to the leading pastors in his denomination—the practitioners—to shape his thinking about leadership.

Tensions developed over several major issues. One was the pastor’s suggestion to take a large Sunday School class and make two classes—commonly believed in his denomination to be more advantageous in reaching new people. Another issue was the church’s historically generous giving to mission causes. Some believed the church gave too much. Another issue was meeting space. A local architect recommended a new building, insisting the older building, constructed by members of the church, needed a lot of improvements and was a fire hazard. Some church leaders believed the old building could be sufficiently renovated.

Fortunately for the young pastor he enrolled in a new off-site degree program at his former seminary. Requirements included meeting with an area pastor as a mentor and submitting assignments to the main campus through him.

The older minister sensed growing tensions and one day counseled the young pastor in what to say at an upcoming deacons’ meeting.

“You go in there humbly,” he said. “You say, ‘I’m a young pastor and I’ve made some mistakes. I need you to help me and pray for me.’”

The young man did so. He learned later that two deacons had agreed to ask him to resign that night, but they backed away when they heard his plea for help. The pastor moved to another church in a few months, but it was his decision to do so. He started again as a wiser man, seeking to build relationships with members.

Did the pastor retreat from conviction, or did he grow in his understanding of leadership? I think the latter. According to Scripture, the pastor is a shepherd who leads the flock, but he’s also called to love the sheep.

Becoming A Castaway

I saw it recently in 2 John—a letter so small Chuck Swindoll called it a postcard. John said the church mustn’t tolerate false teaching or false teachers or they’d lose their reward (2 John 1:8). John didn’t explain what he meant by reward, but it reminded me of his fellow apostle, Paul, who used athletic terminology to describe the rigors of the Christian life.

Paul said he disciplined his body like an athlete. He wished to run his spiritual race according to the rules and avoid being disqualified.

The familiar King James version uses the word “castaway” (1 Corinthians 9: 24-27).

It’s hard to imagine Paul being “thrown out of the game,” but he insisted this could happen.

I’ve known a few castaways over the years.

I heard one of them on my iPod lately. He was at the top of the charts in Christian music, but then disappeared for a while. He’s back now with what a friend affectionately calls “the old guys” Bill Gaither brought together. This artist readily admits his fall into alcohol addiction. He was disqualified, but found his way back.

The late Bob Harrington, “The Chaplain of Bourbon Street,” was one of my mentors when I was a young person. His daughter, Rhonda Kelley, spoke on our campus years ago, and I had opportunity during one mealtime to delve into his story with her. She said her dad left his ministry and his family in 1978. He became a motivational speaker, using his gifts of communication and humor at business conferences and conventions throughout the nation. He drove expensive automobiles and wore diamond rings as symbols of success.

“The lavish lifestyle he was living wasn’t satisfying, and he knew the truth — he’d preached the truth for years,” Rhonda told me.

“And another factor was that horrible night when Dad was mugged after a speaking engagement. He was in the hospital and thought he was going to die. He didn’t want to die in the condition he was in.”

A broken Harrington moved back to New Orleans in 1995 and checked into a rescue mission where he’d often preached as the “Chaplain of Bourbon Street.” And thus began a long process of restoration.

Several years ago we were planning an evangelistic event in Perry County, Ala. Harrington called one of our committee members and asked that he be considered for evangelist. He explained that he wanted to go back to places he’d preached in the past, to ask for forgiveness and to proclaim the mercy of God.

We serve a merciful God, indeed. But it’s much better not to think we’re invulnerable and not to make foolish choices, disappointing God and others and becoming castaways.

A Web Of Their Own Making

Lately we read of a presidential Cabinet nominee who was forced to withdraw from consideration after making some caustic comments on social media in past years.

This isn’t the first time a politician has been caught in a web of their own making.

We think of President Richard Nixon who recorded himself suggesting law enforcement could obstruct justice. Presidential aide Alexander Butterfield will always be remembered as the congressional witness who revealed the secret about the White House taping system to lawmakers. When the U.S. Supreme Court ordered Nixon to turn over the tapes to investigators, his presidency was finished.

And we remember Sen. Gary Hart who made a strong White House bid before a picture of him and a girlfriend showed up in the newspapers--on a boat called “Monkey Business,” of all things. What was he thinking when he allowed someone to take this photo?

Americans have always had opinions, but now it’s easier to share them freely on social media. We’ve seen postings ranging from “look what I’m about to have for dinner” to “you won’t believe what happened at work today.” Many have seen such postings come back to attack them.

It’s a new world. I remember how surprised I was to see it the first time. I was in a classroom lecturing away when I turned to write on the white board. I heard a camera click and discovered that students now are taking pictures of the teacher’s notes on the board so they won’t have to write them down!

And administration warns teachers to assume everything they say in class is being recorded, and to be cautious. I know several teachers whose statements have been misinterpreted over the years, so it may be that a recording could be a good thing, just as many counselors customarily record their therapy sessions.

My dad used to keep a collection of cassette tapes of my sermons. I’m not sure what happened to these, but I sometimes think I’m better off not being reminded of some bone-headed things I’ve said from the pulpit.

The current example is a reminder that our Heavenly Father takes note of what we say. Jesus said, “ . . . that for every idle word men may speak, they will give account of it in the day of judgment” (Matthew 12: 36). John the Revelator wrote about the books in which God has recorded these things. I believe “books” is a synonym for the mind of God. Surely, the omniscient Lord of the universe doesn’t need to make a shopping list for Judgment Day. He  sees and knows all.

This is inspired encouragement to be cautious that our words honor God and others.

Keep Yourselves From Idols

It’s a rather strange story in 1 Samuel 19. The writer told of David who had become a cause celebre after dispatching the fierce giant Goliath. The king gave David the gift of his daughter in marriage; thus, Michal became the first of at least eight wives David collected!

But there came a day when King Saul’s jealous rage exploded. He ordered David’s arrest. In order to buy time Michal said her husband was sick and couldn’t be disturbed. But the king sent the soldiers back despite this lie. They discovered David’s bed was fluffed to appear he was in it, though he’d escaped some time before. The intriguing thing is that rather than using pillows and stuffed animals like we did as children, Michal used a household idol.

What was an idol doing in the king’s daughter’s home? What was an idol doing in the future king of Israel’s home?

The writer doesn’t explain this, but I think it illustrates the pervasion of idols in the biblical world. The Apostle Paul found that in Athens, the intellectual capital of the Roman Empire, the Greeks had an idol to “the unknown god,” in the event they overlooked and offended one in their pantheon.

The Apostle John told Christians to “keep yourselves from idols.” Surely this is not the problem today that it was in the ancient world. We don’t have images of stone, wood or metal in our homes or businesses before which we humble ourselves, worship and pray. But  Bible teacher Bill Gothard used to insist that people, possessions and position are our modern idols.

People can be idols if we choose them over God. The Old Testament law forbade an Israelite marrying a Canaanite, but Solomon did and Ahab did, with disastrous consequences. The New Testament also exhorts Christians not to be “unequally yoked” (in marriage) with unbelievers (2 Corinthians 6:14-15).

Possessions can be idols if we fall into the trap of seeking more and more things to make life complete. Scripture teaches that life isn’t made complete by what we have. We must learn contentment and learn to share what we have with others in need.

Position can be an idol if we constantly seek the praise of others above the praise of God. Surely nothing is wrong with promotions, awards and winning elections—each of these has its place. But Jesus counseled that we’re to seek God’s kingdom first of all; then we find everything else falling into proper place.

The old trilogy is yet valid. We seek God first, make our family second, and others, including our work, third. This is God’s way to a balanced life. This is God’s way to an idol-free life.

Do Verbal Stumbles Define Us?

Some political pundits were quick to criticize a newly-elected U.S. senator who said in an interview the three branches of government are the “House, the Senate and the executive.” OK, so his words weren’t precise. Does this define the man? I hope not since all of us make verbal gaffes from time-to-time.

I just finished a new biography of President Carter. Author Jonathan Alter reminded readers of Carter’s intended tribute to the late Sen. Hubert Humphrey in the president’s renomination convention in 1980. By mistake, Carter called him the fictional “Hubert Horatio Hornblower.” Carter said later the negative reporting he received might as well have labeled him the Disney character “Goofy.” Carter is a great man and shouldn’t be defined by a single gaffe.

A person’s life isn’t measured by occasional tongue flubs. I want to believe this since I’ve made my share. One issue with speaking in churches and classrooms as many of us do is there’s no “cutting room floor” where edits can  be made. Though many of our churches have been broadcasting during Covid, most of us are not ready for prime-time TV! If we were, we could edit out the verbal gaffes, sneezes and jokes that didn’t work.

Consider the disciple whom many call their favorite, Simon Peter. Do you remember the time he stood in the courtyard, warming by the fire and denied he even knew the now-arrested Jesus of Nazareth? Preachers a generation ago used to talk about Peter “warming by the devil’s fire.” And he was. When his denials fell flat, he cursed like the sailor he was to definitively demonstrate that he didn’t follow Jesus.

But fortunately, Peter repented. And he found forgiveness. On the Day of Pentecost he took renewed strength and served Christ faithfully until the day Nero gave the order of execution.

To Peter, Jesus gave the “keys of the kingdom.” The keeper of the kingdom was there at momentous times. He was there when the Holy Spirit was given to the church, when the Holy Spirit was given to Samaritans and when the Holy Spirit was given to gentiles. He was there when the church finally “got it” and welcomed all nations to Christ.

 Tradition says Peter became the pastor of the church in Jerusalem and was given opportunity to recant his faith under threat of death. He refused to deny Jesus again, and was sentenced to crucifixion. Tradition further records he felt unworthy to die as Jesus did, and requested he be crucified head down.

Christian history would be vastly different if we judged Peter the rest of his life by words spoken in haste. He found grace and another opportunity to serve.

So can we all.

Praying For The Sick

She was a well-known preacher and faith healer who came to Birmingham. I went one night to the downtown auditorium to hear her, along with a group of college classmates. I don’t remember much of her message, but I do remember the healing time following.

One of our friends used leg braces from a childhood disease. He stood in line and climbed his way onto the stage. After she prayed for him, he threw his braces down and began to prance about on the platform. I joined in the applause, wanting to believe I’d just witnessed a miracle. To the best of my knowledge, I exhibited real faith.

A few days later I saw him on campus walking with his braces. A classmate told me our friend’s  doctor warned him sternly to use the braces or face a worse complication.

Every church prays for the sick, but it’s undeniable that it’s not always the will of God to heal the sick.

Two years ago our church experienced a sad year with seven deaths. We had three in 2020. All of these people were loved and prayed for. We were faithful to ask God’s healing grace for them. But God’s plan was different from ours and they’re no longer with us.

The apostle James said leaders should anoint the sick with oil and pray for them (James 5:16).

A pastor who was my mentor told me he believed the oil represented the Holy Spirit and we shouldn’t follow this command literally. Other commentators say the oil represents medicine, as it did in Luke 10 when the Good Samaritan used oil and wine to aid the wounded traveler. In contrast, an elder I knew at a Presbyterian church kept a bottle of olive oil in his suit jacket and often led church leaders to pray privately with those who wished to after worship.

I’ve always contended that if someone requested oil and prayer, I would do this as a simple act of obedience. I never thought about who the first person would be to do so.

My mother asked me to anoint and pray for her when she battled cancer. She’d asked her pastor to do this earlier that week, and, she reasoned, my doing so would satisfy the exhortation  “elders,” meaning more than one. Of course I did what she asked. But, sadly, it was not the plan of God to heal her from her illness.

Every church continues to pray for the sick, though we realize sometimes God supersedes our will with his and chooses not to say “yes.” This is among the mysteries we live with until the time all things will be explained to us (1 Corinthians 13:12).

How Would Jesus Drive?

It was a number of years ago that eight-year-old Whitney stopped me in the church hallway.

With hands on hips she said, “Preacher, you need to wear your seatbelt!”

Her mother laughed and explained they’d passed me in the city that week and perceptive Whitney saw I was beltless. She couldn’t wait to chide me at church the next Sunday. And justifiably so since I was at fault.

I thought about Whitney when I spoke from 1 Peter—a book Southern Baptists were studying at the time. Peter wrote, “Having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may by your good works which they observe, glorify God . . .” (1 Peter 2: 12).

Christians were ridiculed and lied about in Peter’s day. Nero blamed Christians for the burning of Rome, accused them of cannibalism when they observed communion and said they were disloyal citizens since they had a higher authority than Rome. But, Peter insisted, unbelievers must not be able to ridicule us because of the wrong we do. A part of doing right is obeying the laws of the land, including traffic laws.

I took the familiar WWJD (“What would Jesus do?”) bracelet in the message and changed it to HWJD, or “How would Jesus drive?”

I told our congregation that I’m sure Jesus would drive safely, obey the speed limit and be courteous to other drivers. And if we follow him, we must do the same.

I asked our members how they taught their 15 and 16-year-old children to drive, and if they drove the same way. This sobering question is worthy of deep reflection, for many Christians leave holiness at home when they get into their automobiles.

Oh, my. They had the torches, tar and pitchforks out for me after the sermon! Actually, it wasn’t that bad. But to alleviate the tension, I told our people the kind of car Jesus drove: a Christsler. One of our worshippers spoke up and said, “But the disciples were in one Accord.” Normally parishioners are to say “amen” to the pastor, but this retort was a good one and we all had a good laugh.

But back to the main idea, Christianity is supposed to superintend every part of our lives. Jesus said we’re to seek first the kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33), and this certainly includes the time we spend behind the wheel. None of us is guiltless, of course, but we must guard our personal example.

I blew it with young Whitney. But now, 20 years later, I still think of her and don’t want to disappoint others with my carelessness or rebellion. We’re called to be Christians 24/7.

The Redemption Network

Many of us remember the three networks we had on television in the olden days. Now the television universe has expanded to encompass hundreds of channels, though it’s hard to imagine anyone really needing this many!

I had satellite radio in a car several years ago. Someone asked me how many of the 150 channels I listened to. I’d not thought of it before, but I counted only two or three channels in my favorites list.

Nevertheless, a friend recommended a different TV news channel to me. I’ve watched a bit lately and have been intrigued by several of the commentators and guests. One anchor looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember the details. Then I remembered the story of his being dismissed from another network. Another contributor or two had experienced personal scandals and several had been fired from presidential administrations. And they interviewed a former state official who had faced indictment.

I remarked to my wife that this must be the redemption network!

Of course, I began to think about this channel being a model for the church.

The evangelical church believes God invites us to have a relationship with him. He’s a merciful God who offers to forgive us of all the wrong we’ve ever done. Then we begin partnership with him to remake our lives unto his honor. He gives us his spirit and directs us to live lives of obedience.

But along the way we all suffer the same fate. Our rebellious inner nature compels us to choose wrongly and rebel against God’s will. In a word, we sin.

I’ve often suggested to our congregation that we find camaraderie in scripture since all its major characters, save one, failed God. The Bible is in no way a display case for human goodness. Scripture treats human failure honestly and forthrightly. There is a very good reason for this. God wants us to know that his mercy continues with us as it did for them. Thus we come to him often seeking restoration.

The church cooperates with God when we offer grace to people who fail.

Certainly there are always those who seem to relish in reminding us we messed up. We read recently about a college student called to task for a teen-age video posting in which she said something stupid. The college quickly asked her to withdraw. Yes, it was unwise to say what she did and record it, but as George W. Bush used to remind us, “When I was young and foolish, I was young and foolish.”

Though the university hasn’t yet offered redemption, the church must be the redemption network offering grace to those who seek forgiveness.

People are too valuable to waste.

Reports Of My Death

Church leaders permit me to teach a course each semester at the local community college. This section has been online due to Covid for the past year. As part of a get-acquainted exercise I asked students in the first week to search the Internet and find an article I’d written. I received an unusual email from one of the students:

“I'm working on getting to the assignment that is currently due, and I was asked to find an article that you had written. Well, I'm not sure if you just happen to have the same name here, maybe I'm confused about just who you are. Maybe it's true and someone is ghost writing under your alias, I'm not sure. But, well, Wikipedia says you died last year. I really just want to believe maybe I'm mistaken and you're someone else and just happen to have the same name as this guy, but this legitimately has me incredibly concerned. Are you okay?”

Michael Jamal Brooks died last year at age 36. He was a nationally-known political commentator with a YouTube channel. I’m Michael John Brooks, not as well-known, but alive! I assured this student I yet maintain a pulse.

This episode reminded me of the famous retort of Mark Twain: “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.”

God has blessed me with good health, although as one of my friends often says, one microbe can change your whole life.

It’s true that death can make a surprise appearance. Sometimes doctors can tell us within a few days or within a few weeks when to expect the death of someone we love, or our own death. But for most of us, death comes without warning, perhaps through a sudden health crisis or an accident. Death often intrudes without invitation.

Charles Dickens lay down his pen while writing a novel and died. Southern author and poet Sidney Lanier said before his death, “I have a thousand unwritten songs in my heart.” His songs there remain. The artist Raphael lay down his brush while painting and died. It is said the Roman pope had the unfinished painting displayed during the painter’s funeral procession through the streets of Rome as a visual reminder of death’s uncertainty.

The knowledge of approaching death should motivate all of us to make preparation.

I remember as a boy seeing wooden crosses beside the roadways that read, “Prepare to meet God.” I didn’t know at the time that these were the words of the ancient prophet Amos (Amos 4:12). This message, hundreds of years old, is yet appropriate.

We’re invited to make God our friend today so we won’t be strangers when death takes us to meet him.

Hold To God's Unchanging Hand

Recently I read “Twenty-Six Seconds—A Personal History of the Zapruder Film,” by Alexandra Zapruder, the granddaughter of Abraham Zapruder who captured the shocking seconds of movie frames in Dealey Plaza that awful day in November 1963. She explained how her grandfather gave the film to the U.S. Secret Service and then sold rights to “Life” magazine believing they would treat it respectfully. Zapruder, according to his granddaughter, described himself as “the wrong man at the wrong time,” a bystander who remained shaken the rest of his life by what he recorded.

Many say that day in Dallas ended the Age of Innocence.

For baby boomers the Kennedy assassination is the Holy Grail. My generation remembers where we were and what we were doing when we heard. We find ourselves mystified by it, trying to understand it. And we find ourselves drawn to Dallas and to the Kennedy grave site in Arlington in the same way Richard Dreyfus was drawn to the landing site in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.”

Another baby boomer, President Bill Clinton, was likewise fascinated by the assassination. His friend and Mrs. Clinton’s Rose Law firm partner, Webb Hubbell, worked in the Department of Justice, and was considered for the Attorney General position before Janet Reno was named. Hubbell reported in “Friends In High Places” that Clinton asked him to discover who killed JFK and if there was an alien in Roswell, New Mexico. Unfortunately, Hubbell resigned from government service in 1994 as part of the Whitewater investigation. No other biographer I’ve found has told the rest of the story and whether Clinton found the answers.

 We had an interesting brush with JFK in our church in 2019 when a member died after a long illness.

Our ministry assistant found a note in church records that Linda joined our church on Nov. 23, 1963 as an 11-year-old girl. Of course the date leapt to me from the pages. The JFK assassination was on Friday (as all four presidential assassinations have been, strangely). Was there an event at our church that Saturday night? What brought Linda to faith during that dark weekend? I wish I’d known this earlier. I would’ve asked her.

But the implication still intrigues me. On a weekend when our nation mourned, a little girl gave her life to Christ, and continued to serve God through our church for 50 years.

It’s a mystery exactly what happened at our church that weekend, or if the date was simply wrongly recorded. But it does suggest when our lives are shaken by tragedy, we often see our need for God.

As the classic hymn says, “Build your hopes on things eternal, hold to God’s unchanging hand.”

Firing The Preacher

Her husband oversaw the work of Baptist churches in our county, and their son was a church staff member in another state. She said to me one day, "When our son told us his intention to enter Christian ministry when he was in high school, we were thrilled! But today, if we had a child who told us this, we'd be concerned."

I'd met her son and I knew a bit about his story. After serving in a church for a time, he was fired and floundered for several months before finding refuge in another church in another denomination. His parents were broken-hearted as he struggled.

Unfortunately, this young man’s experience isn’t unique.

Dr. Charles Chandler, founder of The Ministering to Ministers Foundation in Richmond, Va., wrote about the epidemic of terminations in American churches. He cited a Texas Tech and Virginia Tech Universities study that found, surprisingly, more than one in four ministers have been pushed out of their positions at least once. Among the terminated, about half reenter full-time ministry, while the others go into so-called "secular" vocation, perhaps doing bi-vocational ministry.

The two major reasons given for terminations are church leadership conflicts and declining memberships. In many cases the minister is like the coach with a losing season who has lost support.

Someone noted churches may experience three phases of decline with their ministers:

1.      "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"

2.      "By what authority are you doing these things?"

3.      "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

Terminated ministers may suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, depression and other health problems. Additionally, since unemployment funds normally aren’t available for Christian ministry, ministers face severe financial stress. Some studies indicate it takes up to six months to find gainful employment.

Church members must carefully consider the covenant they've made with the pastor and other staff ministers and go the second mile to ensure it be a harmonious relationship.

Dr. Henlee Barnett shared this tongue-in-cheek list with us in seminary many years ago, but I still find it helpful. It's entitled, "How to get rid of your preacher."

1. Look the pastor straight in the eye while he’s preaching and say “Amen” once in a while. He’ll preach himself to death.

2. Pat him on the back and brag on is good points. He’ll probably work himself to death.

3. Pay him a living wage and he'll eat himself to death.

4. Rededicate your life to Christ and ask the preacher for some job to do. He’ll die of heart failure.

5. Get the church to unite in prayer for the preacher. He’ll soon become so effective that some larger church will take him off your hands.

On Being Mask-Shamed at Christmas

I suppose it’s the modern equivalent of “You kids get off my lawn.” I’ve heard of “mask-shaming” in recent months but didn’t experience it until last week.

 The senior adult didn’t introduce himself. He just walked by me and scowled, “You need to wear your mask!” Which I was. I entered the store with the mask on my chin since I was finishing off my soda and about to drop the bottle in a receptacle before picking up a few items. I suppose my first reaction was shock that a total stranger would accost me. My second reaction was anger that he deigned to lecture me. As a church leader I’ve been in the forefront with protocols based on our governor’s orders, and I constantly caution about distancing and intimate contact.

 Fortunately, I pursed my lips and didn’t respond, though my first thought was to blast him and tell him to mind his own business. I could’ve quoted scripture: “Who made you a judge over us?” (Exodus 2:14).

 A few seconds later I saw a pastor friend in the store and thought how fortunate I was to have held my peace and not made a scene. If I’d blown up, my friend would’ve observed, and my preacher reputation would’ve been destroyed!

 A few days before I perceived a similar judgment when the driver of the big truck behind me obviously wanted to drive faster than me. I was calmly driving the speed limit. He got on my bumper and threw his hands in the air in a pantomime of “what are you doing?” This reminded me of the bumper sticker I sometimes see: “The closer you get, the slower I drive,” though I wasn’t intentionally trying to agitate. He zoomed around me when he could, but I had momentary satisfaction when we came alongside at the next traffic light. He wasted gasoline and was frustrated, and I was enjoying Christmas music!

 Our first reaction to stress is often to strike rather than to reflect. It occurred to me there’s wisdom in the old adage about counting to ten before reacting.

 A former military officer got frustrated in a meeting in which I participated. He stood and said to our superior, “Sir, may I be excused?” He later told me this is the military way of stepping aside and cooling down for clearer thought. Not such a bad idea.

 Solomon insisted, “A soft answer turns away wrath” (Proverbs 15:1). This simple principle is a good life lesson. We should learn not to respond in kind to rude or demanding people. We should take a little time to process things rather than making a little thing a big thing.

 I’m still learning.

Going Over To The Enemy Camp

I remember an interesting confrontation one Sunday morning.

We Baptists have always been creative with our fifth Sundays. Sometimes we do communion, sometimes we have hymn singing rather than preaching and sometimes we have fellowship meals—or at least we did pre-Covid. On this particular fifth Sunday night we planned a joint worship with the Methodist church. I joked about this during the morning announcement time and said, “We’re going over to the enemy camp!” Of course I was being frivolous before worship began, but the young man accosted me when worship was done.

“They’re not our enemies; they’re our brothers and sisters in Christ!” he declared.

I explained if I really thought they were our enemies, I, as pastor, wouldn’t have suggested we worship with them. I still don’t know if I convinced him or not. Popular columnist Dave Barry insists some people are “humor deprived,” and this man certainly was. But I know, too, that sarcasm is often misunderstood. I’ve really tried to work on being more declarative and less sarcastic in my public speaking and conversations since not everyone understands the art of the quip.

I do miss the community worship services we had years ago. In several places we’ve lived the churches had interdenominational Thanksgiving services. In one of them the offerings we received were given to the local food bank, so this gathering was important.

In another place churches sponsored joint Maundy Thursday services. This is a communion service on the day before Good Friday, commemorating the inauguration of the supper when Jesus instituted it. I remember one night the guest music minister was unschooled in what he should do (ministers shared responsibilities). He had us singing resurrection hymns, not realizing that the church treats Maundy Thursday and Good Friday with somberness. Joy comes on Easter.

I think denominations can learn from one another. The Episcopalians and Presbyterians teach us reverence in worship. Congregants honor God’s word and the pulpit is a place for serious reflection. The Pentecostals teach us exuberance in the Holy Spirit. My mother’s only sister was Nazarene. I’ll always remember attending her church as a boy and seeing her raising her hands in the air and praising God. She had a hard life and found great joy in expressive worship. And I suppose we Baptists and Methodists find ourselves somewhere in between—hopefully learning from both parameters.

 Jesus prayed that his followers “be one” (John 17:21). Some argue that having many denominations falls short of his vision. True enough, but I don’t see this changing.

Nevertheless, we should rejoice in what God is doing in the ministries of other churches and respect and love our brothers and sisters in other camps.