The Far Country

A grandson was with me a few years ago when he picked up something and puzzled over it.

“Papa, what’s this?” he asked.

He held a roadmap. At the time I’m sure I had at least three in the car from ours and neighboring states. A colleague once taught me to stop at rest areas in new states and get fresh roadmaps to keep in the car.

This experience gave opportunity to launch into a grandfather story.

“Brooks,” I said, “a long, long time ago in a far distant land, ancient peoples used these documents to chart their travels across the planet, until God in his goodness gave us the Garmin!”

I didn’t tell him how distracted we were in the day when we unfolded the roadmap on our laps and attempted to read it while driving. This was “unsafe at any speed” before texting and driving. But the trusty roadmap was a useful tool for many years.

I only remember one “epic fail” when either it or I messed up in West Virginia. We drove all night attempting to find the interstate instead of the dark and desolate “country roads” we were on—the ones John Denver sang about so appealingly.

One of Jesus’ most well-known stories is what we call that of the prodigal son. “Prodigal” isn’t a word we use much these days, though I remember my mother often declared “the prodigal is home” when as an adult I came home to visit, though she said it with a laugh.

The younger son in the story decided he wanted out of the father’s house. He wanted to find new adventures to celebrate and to spend his money on pleasure. In effect, he told the father he couldn’t wait for death to claim his inheritance; he wanted it then. We have no record the wise father argued with him. He simply divided his estate.

Then the boy went to the far country.

I’ve often wondered where this was.

If we searched on a roadmap, or typed “far country” on our GPS or cellphone, where would it take us? I rather doubt we’d find it on the other side of the globe. The far county might be down the street. The elder brother has been called “the prodigal who stayed home” since he didn’t leave but neither did he have the father’s love in his heart. Thus, the far county isn’t so much a place as an attitude. If we reject the father’s plan we’re in the far county no matter the ZIP code.

Home is where the father is. Home is where we find fulfillment in serving him.

Home is such a better place than the far county.

The Theology Of Losing

A few Saturdays ago I sat in a local school gym watching my 12-year-old grandson play basketball. A lady behind us had a son on the other team, apparently. She was very obnoxious in the way she yelled out during the game. Her team won. As we left, I jokingly asked my son-in-law which of us needed to slap her.

I almost did this many years ago when my son was playing high school football. He was quarterback that day and a lady kept yelling for her team to “get him,” “knock him down” and “kill him.” It was all I could do to restrain myself and at least not offer a tongue-lashing.

Obviously, some folks take children’s sports very seriously, not remembering all players on the field are boys and girls as precious as their own children.

But it’s true that many adults take sports quite seriously, too.

A pastor I know always gave an exhortation on the Sunday before Alabama’s Iron Bowl game. He told the congregation that half of them would be disappointed the next weekend, but they needed to remember it was just a game and they must respect those with other loyalties. I was so impressed by this, though I graduated from one of those schools, that I’ve spoken this exhortation most years myself.

Another bothersome thing is our theology of winning. How often do we see a player sinking a three-pointer, 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 Yankees great Yogi Berra was coaching 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.

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

I’m convinced we need a theology of losing, for sometimes we 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 Teddy Roosevelt said, “It is better to try great things, even at the risk of failure, than to know neither victory nor defeat.”

There’s honor in striving. Athletics is supposed to teach us how to reach beyond our limits, how to work as a team and how to be gracious whatever the outcome.

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

The Messiah Complex

I talked with a young minister at a conference several years ago. He was excited to be under consideration by a church in our city as their new pastor. I knew this particular church, and I knew about their reputation for dismissing their pastors regularly. I was bold enough to tell him so, but he believed he would be the one to tame the unruly board and lead the church to greatness.

I certainly hope so.

I regret I lost track of him and don’t know what the outcome was.

The situation reminded me of a Robert Fulghum story.

Fulghum is best known for his “All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.” He became my favorite author in the late 80s and 90s. He told another great and true story. A man was rescued by firefighters from his burning bed. One of the officers explained that he must’ve been smoking, dropped the cigarette when he nodded off and the bed caught on fire.

“No, you don’t understand,” the man replied. “It was on fire when I lay down on it.”

The church this young man was “courting” was on fire before they read his resume 

Dr. Charles Chandler, founder of the Ministering to Ministers Foundation, shares a wealth of wisdom with pastors, especially those who have faced involuntary termination or other crises in ministry. Chandler asserts that many ministers suffer from a “messiah complex.” They believe they’re gifted to overcome any obstacle, including an unwell congregation. He imagines a minister saying, “Oh, yes; they’ve had problems, but they’ve never had the benefit of my leadership.” Thus they subject themselves and their families to possible turmoil.

Pastors have a messiah complex when they overestimate their capacity to deal with habitually conflicted churches.

Pastors can also be guilty when we believe our way or our interpretation is the only way.

Charles Spurgeon said the church pulpit can become “coward’s castle” if ministers claim they’re the inerrant spokesmen for God, their interpretation is correct and thunder judgment on everybody else.

Pastors must speak the truth in love, but also must avoid belittling others. They should learn to value the thoughts and opinions of congregants. There are deeply spiritual people in our churches whose wisdom is needed. One Presbyterian elder told me it was a “matter of calendars” since the elders were older and wiser than their young pastor! Leadership begins with listening. And in listening to others we learn, and we engender enriching friendships.

The Christian church doesn’t have multiple messiahs, but only one. He’s easily recognized since he has nail prints in his hands. The rest of us are mortals who should pray for a healthy dose of  humility.

We're On A Mission From God

I remember it often since a few of the websites I visit have the security question: “What is your favorite movie?” The response I use to identify myself to the unseen cyberbots is “The Blues Brothers.” The movie is a musical comedy and held the record at the time for the most automobiles destroyed in a police chase (103).

The plot is that Jake and Elwood Blues were inspired at the Third Rock Missionary Baptist Church by Pastor Cleophus, played by the late, great James Brown, and set out on a mission from God.

On the 40th anniversary of the movie in 2020 the Vatican named it a "Catholic classic," and a movie “all Catholics should see.” I suppose it had to do with saving the St. Helen of the Blessed Shroud Orphanage, which the brothers did. Thus “The Blues Brothers” joins “The Passion of the Christ” and “The Ten Commandments” as “classic Catholic movies”--certainly a unique trio!

But the theme of “we’re on a mission from God” rings true for every believer.

Christians believe our mission from God began with Abraham. God called him away from his home and family and promised to bless the world through him. And to this childless senior and his wife, Sarah, God promised to make their descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky. Abraham and his descendants taught the world the laws of God in the Old Testament, and one of Abraham’s descendants became the messiah. We who follow the messiah, whom we normally call by the Greek equivalent, “Christ,” continue this mission to bless the world.

How do we bless the world?

Jesus appeared on the shores of Galilee and said, “Follow me.” As we follow Christ, we go with him into places of need.

Christ had compassion for the sick and he healed many. We’re commanded to care for the suffering and to pray for them. Faith hospitals from St. Jude in Memphis to local Baptist hospitals in Birmingham offer compassionate care for the sick. My mother spent time in Birmingham’s St. Vincent’s Hospital before her death and told me how much it meant for the Catholic sisters to stop in and pray with her.

Christ had compassion for the hungry and he fed them. Christians know that if people have empty stomachs they probably won’t listen to our message about empty hearts.

Christ had compassion for the outcasts. He spent time with the immoral and despised Samaritan woman. He promised living waster to satisfy her spiritual thirst. Christians disregard social barriers because our task is to share the same living water with those who need to know God’s love.

It’s true we’re on a mission from God.

Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People?

It’s a question as old as the book of Job: “Why do the righteous suffer?”

Sometimes we rationalize in our minds God is active in the business of judgment when something bad happens to someone bad, but when something bad happens to someone good, we may in our humanity question the ways of God.

Job certainly did. He suffered terribly and initially served as a peerless example of patient endurance. But as his pain and losses continued, he came close to blasphemy. He questioned the character of God, accused God of abandoning him and pleaded for an advocate to argue his case to heaven’s court. At the end of the book God, in effect, still retained a shroud of mystery. God declared Job wasn’t there when he created the world and its creatures, and if Job didn’t understand these mysteries, he couldn’t understand the greater mystery of suffering.

So we still wrestle with the matter of suffering.

We understand that everyone has a measure of suffering in their lives. We all face hurt, disappointment and death. But it does seem sometimes that the wealthy and influential of the world have an easier path than the rest of us.

I’ve known many faithful Christians who tried hard to follow and serve the Lord, though beset with physical pain, great losses or other hardships. They lived out the beautiful prayer of Habakkuk: “Though the fig tree does not bud and there is no fruit on the vines, through the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though the flocks disappear from the pen and there are no herds in the stalls, yet I will celebrate in the LORD; I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!” (Habakkuk 3: 17-18).

President Anwar Sadat of Egypt was instrumental in the Camp David Peace Accords in 1978 when he, Israeli Prime Minister Menahem Begin and American President Jimmy Carter met for 13 days to find peace. President Carter once described Sadat as his greatest friend among world leaders. Sadat traveled to Plains, Ga. in August 1981 to visit the Carters in their post-presidency, and sadly was assassinated two months later. Presidents Nixon, Ford and Carter represented the USA at the state funeral.

In his autobiography, Sadat reflected on his years in prison for opposing British rule in Egypt: “Suffering crystallizes a soul’s intrinsic strength; for it is through suffering that a man of mettle can come into his own, and fathom his own depths . . . . This is why I regard my last eight months in prison as the happiest period of my life.”

Perhaps God has lessons for us to learn in adversity that we can’t learn anyplace else.

I Thank God Upon Every Remembrance

One of the great pleasures of grandparenthood is athletics. With three grandsons, we’ve been to innumerable soccer, basketball and baseball games and track events. Last summer I sat with my daughter watching a baseball game and saw a gentleman who looked familiar. I asked my daughter who he was, and she said he was James’ grandfather. She found James’ mother on Facebook and told me her birth name was Baggett.

“That has to be Mark Baggett,” I said.

So I went to speak to him and found it true.

Mark just retired from Samford University where he taught English and law. He worked for many years with his father at “The Alabama Baptist” newspaper. Mark came to Selma years ago to interview me for a story about race relations in the city, and I always enjoyed visiting with him when I found myself on Samford’s campus. I discovered later he lived at 405 Bibb Street in Marion when he worked at Judson College—the same house we lived in during our 15 years at the school. We used to joke about the ill-fitting garage door that he installed!

Now here we were as granddads cheering our grandsons who, fortunately, were teammates for the Vestavia Cobras.

I enjoyed sitting with Mark at a number of games and getting caught up after many years.

And it happened again a few Saturdays ago. We were at a basketball game when a gentleman came and tapped me on the shoulder. It was former Alabama Rep. “Noopie” Cosby of  Selma, who told me our coach was his son, Drayton, who was a little boy when we lived in Selma and attended First Baptist Church together. Noopie was floor leader in the Alabama House of Representatives for Gov. Guy Hunt, met Susan in the governor’s office and later had Gov. Hunt perform their marriage!

Now here we were as granddads cheering our grandsons who, fortunately, are teammates for the Vestavia Hornets.

These experiences caused me to reflect on several things. I thought of the old adage about being nice to everyone you meet, because you may meet them later and need their friendship and help!

More seriously, I also thought of old friendships from long ago, and about the joy I’ve gained from people I’ve met.

The Apostle Paul took the last chapter of the book of Romans—what some call the greatest theological treatise ever penned—to call the names of good people who had encouraged him in his work. Dr. Dale Moody called Romans 16 a “21-gun salute.” Indeed it is. Not a salute with guns, but a salute with the heart.

God enriches our lives with the people he places in our path

Thou Art With Me

I was assisting in Vacation Bible School at the church I served while an Auburn student. The day’s lesson for the children was Psalm 23, and the point was David, though alone in the wilderness, had the assurance of God’s presence.

“David was away from family and friends,” I said. “But he wasn’t alone. Why?”

A freckle-faced angel named Denise spoke up: “He had the sheeps!”

Of course she was correct. But what I wished to communicate was that in his solitude David communed with God. He began to see his care of the sheep as a picture of God’s care for his people. David recorded his thoughts, many of which we read in the book of Psalms.

He wrote a familiar word in verse 1: “I shall not want.” The Christian Standard Bible renders “I have what I need.”

The Chevrolet Corvette assembly plant and museum is in Bowling Green, Ken. Visitors are invited inside, and for $75,000, may choose their new Corvette from the assembly line and drive it home.

I want a Corvette, but I need a Camry!

Of course we know there’s a difference between our wants and our needs. And God promises to supply our needs as we trust him (Philippians 4:19).

Another well-known word is verse 4: “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, thou art with me.” The CSB renders this the “darkest valley.” And most of us have been there.

One in three of us will hear the dread diagnosis “cancer.” This is a terrible word. Both my mother and my father-in-law heard this diagnosis and died from the disease. Death is a dark valley. The older we get the more loved ones we lose to death. I suppose Travis Tritt is correct—when we’re young we feel “ten feet tall and bulletproof.” But age makes us think about the darkest valley of death.

What about job loss? I’ve known many who lost work at the peak of their careers. “We’ve got to let you go” isn’t a word we want to hear. We experience dread anxiety about the future, about providing for our families and about personal fulfillment that most of us get from our work.

And personal moral crisis is another dark valley. We encounter something we know is hurtful and wrong, but we deliberately choose to go that way. We disappoint ourselves, our family and our God.

David knew that the Good Shepherd isn’t a fair-weather one. He promises not to forsake us in the darkest valley. He has a rod to ward off evil, and a staff to rescue his sheep from places of danger. We are not alone in the difficulties of life.

What's In A Name?

It’s interesting to read the top ten baby names for 2021, and to see how different they are from previous years. What happened to Michael, Joshua, Sarah and Elizabeth? There’s a whole new genre, perhaps inspired by media. I’m not sure since I’ve whittled down TV viewing in recent years. But the top ten female names are (in order) Olivia, Emma, Amelia, Ava, Sophia, Charlotte, Isabella, Mia, Luna and Harper. The top ten male names are Liam, Noah, Oliver, Elijah, Lucas, Levi, Mason, Asher, James and Ethan.

Many families choose to perpetuate generational names. For example, my paternal grandfather’s middle name was Allen, which he gave to my father, who gave it to my older brother, who gave it to his son, who gave it to his son. In fact the last three generations share the name Kenneth Allen Brooks without “senior” or “junior” attached. My great-nephew’s nickname is KAB3.

My middle name is John. I was named for my mother’s brother, John Wesley Pettyjohn. We named our son John. Our daughter named her firstborn John Brooks Bennett, so he has my name and his paternal grandfather’s name. Oh, our daughter has the feminine version of Michael, Michelle, as her middle name.

My dad had an unusual name: Orris Allen Brooks. I’ve thought about him lately since Jan. 22 was his birthday. I never got a straight answer from him about where Orris came from, nor did I ever think to ask my grandmother how she chose it. Dad guessed he was named for his Uncle Horace. I’ve never met another Orris, and no one chose to bring this name forward to another generation. My brother’s family chose Allen instead.

I think my brother and I are fortunate that others wanted to use our names in a new generation. I remember a quip from the late Henry Lyon when we brought him back to First Baptist Selma to name our new parking pavilion in his honor. He said, “Wow. I’ve never had anything named for me--not even my son!”

The New Testament book of Acts reveals that the disciples of Jesus didn’t have an official name for a while. They were “followers of the way” at first, perhaps based on Jesus’ claim to be the way, truth and life (Acts 22:4, John 14:6). But, surprisingly, the name “Christian” originated in the first Gentile church, Antioch, and the name stuck (Acts 11:26). It’s believed the name means “little Christ,” and was first spoken in derision. But the name has come to represent something noble.

Christians try to be “little Christs.” We fall far short, but we continue to remind ourselves that he is our example in the whole of life

What's The Pastor's Job?

I’d been at the church for about two weeks when Bill (not his real name) came to see me. We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, then he got to the purpose of his visit.

“We have some wealthy members who’ve helped the church over the years,” he said. “They’ve brought us through some lean times. Our pastors have always tried to be their friends, so I want you to work hard to be their friend, too.”

I smiled sweetly and assured Bill I’ll try to be a friend to these men I’d not yet met, but I thought in my heart, “Pshaw! I want to be a friend to everyone. How would I know or why would I care the size of their bank account?”

Bill had an unusual concept of  the pastor’s job. But he wasn’t alone. One of our denominational officials used to joke about pastors being summoned to pray “at chicken fights on”—the “on” being everything else. I never prayed at a chicken fight but used to pray frequently at high school football games when this was allowed. I never minded asking God to help us be good sportsmen and to protect the boys on the field, but praying at football games isn’t the major thing a pastor is to do.

The Apostle Paul wrote succinctly about the pastor’s role in the letter to the Ephesians: “And he gave some . . . pastors and teachers; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ,” (Ephesians 4: 11-12, KJV).

The writer was discussing the concept of spiritual gifts, and the pastor being a “person gift.” Some commentators say “pastors and teachers” should be a hyphenated “pastor-teacher,” designating one office. Whatever the case, the pastor, at least in the King James Version, apparently has three jobs. He is to perfect or mature the saints (all Christians), do the work or ministry and edify, or build up, the church.

But the late Ray Stedman popularized the “heretical comma” after the word “saints.” There was no punctuation in the original manuscripts, so it was added by translators. In this case, they did a disservice. When this errant comma is removed, the exhortation is clear: the pastor is to mature the saints so that they--the saints--do the work of ministry. Newer translations communicate this concept more clearly.

The point is the pastor does ministry, to be sure, but not all ministry. He must encourage everyone to discover and use their spiritual gifts. There’s too much ministry to be done for the pastor to be the only minister. In effect, he’s to share this job with others.

Speech That Honors The Lord

My generation remembers the TV serial “Dallas” featuring the oil-baron Jock Ewing family. All the mischief was done by corrupt son J.R., but son Bobby was the luckiest Ewing. He married three beautiful women, including April (Sheree Wilson who later married “Walker Texas Ranger!), Victoria Principal and Priscilla Presley.

“Dallas” gave us the “cliffhanger” episode every spring that kept us interested until fall. The most well-known cliffhanger was “Who shot J.R.?” This mystery inspired a very collectible political pinback featuring Ronald Reagan from a Western movie holding a six-gun. The caption reads, “I shot J.R. I despise bleeding-heart liberals!”

I heard about a new Western serial and watched a few episodes during my recent COVID isolation. This series has a ranch, a patriarch and an evil spawn, too. A friend alerted me to expect shocking language, and he was correct. One word is the most frequent and profane. The word deals with God’s gift of marriage, and this gift is cheapened by this cheap word. And God’s name is constantly taken in vain. I never heard anyone in the episodes I saw ask God for wisdom or thank him for his kindness.

Even the children in this series have foul mouths for alleged comedic effect.

I suppose the plot escaped me, shrouded in the continuous and shocking profanity. At least President Nixon had the decency to use “expletive deleted” when he published his Oval Office taped conversations.

In an article entitled, “Why Do People Swear” on psychcentral.com, the writer cites researcher Timothy Jay who suggested cursing is like sounding the horn in our cars—it can mean different things, including anger, joy, frustration or surprise.

I remained at the intersection for two seconds after the light turned green last week and the driver behind me blasted her horn. What was she saying? I can only imagine that it wasn’t very nice.

“Taboo words,” as Jay calls them, can be a substitute for violence, and this is a good thing. We’d rather be cursed at than assaulted. But Jay said these words can also be the springboard for hate speech, verbal abuse, sexual harassment and obscene phone calls.

Jay further noted we make word choices due to the company and situations they’re in. Thus, he insisted, we exercise control over our speech. 

Since this is true, the obvious question is why not choose not to use profanity?

The Bible commands we never take God’s name in vain, and Jesus said “yes” or “no” should suffice. The Apostle Paul cautioned that our speech must always be full of grace.

The new year is a good time to humbly ask God to help us use our speech to honor him at all times.

Whatever Happened To Church Membership?

I saw her at a funeral recently and remembered her telephone call. She was a member of our church, though I’d not met her since I was the new pastor. She called to tell me she’d joined another church.

“This church won’t send acknowledgement, so I wanted you to know for your records,” she said.

This incident was about seven years ago, and it’s the first time I began to see the waning of the traditional practice of churches acknowledging transfers of membership. In the Baptist church we call this one’s “church letter,” which we borrowed from Paul’s word that he didn’t need “letters of recommendation” from the Corinthian church since their changed lives were the validity of his missionary work (2 Corinthians 3:1-3). In our denomination, we used to joke letters of transfer are important, and only granted when joining another church or going to heaven!

The church our former member joined wasn’t a Baptist church, but even many churches in our denomination aren’t managing membership records as people come and go. I’m not sure why other than there’s no official to make us do it, and it’s one more thing for busy congregations to do.

I’ve battled some church members over the years who’ve insisted we remove people from membership who don’t attend.

“All they’re doing is hurting our records,” they said.

I’ve gingerly reminded critics that people are our “record.” At one time we accepted a spiritual responsibility to care for these folk. If we cavalierly remove people, who will care for them? Who will pray for them? Who will seek to serve them in the name of Christ? We must love people more than they sometimes love us.

We know that trusting Christ for salvation is primary, but it’s biblical to seek out like-minded believers as a new spiritual family once we come to Christ. Indeed, most who come to Christ do so through the witness of local churches, so it’s normal and natural for them to continue this relationship with church membership.

Churches have members whose names are on their rolls but who attend other churches, have joined other churches or don’t attend any church. Thus, the matter of church membership has taken a hit, and we struggle to maintain meaningful church memberships. I think we’re the poorer for this. Accountability is lessened. The church in the New Testament is called the “bride of Christ.” Christ surely loves his bride and serving him through his church is a matter of obedience (Ephesians 5:25).

Being a Christian and being an active member of a local church go hand-in-glove. The church continues to point us to a world in need and says, “Brothers and sisters, let’s go.”

What Do We Do When Christians Mess Up?

Interestingly, three stories appeared in the same week about Christian leaders who messed up. One is a coach who behaved hypocritically. Another is a televangelist living in a $7 million mansion who pays no property tax. He said God told him to “Minister this house to [your wife]. It is part of your prosperity.” And a third Christian leader faces a lawsuit. His accuser, terminated from the organization, claims blind allegiance to the leader is a stringent job requirement, and the leader spurned COVID-19 protocols in the workplace.

These kinds of “got ‘cha” stories get good play in the press; often it’s a way the media humbles the self-righteous, whether they be religious or political leaders.

But what should our reaction be when fellow believers stumble?

First, we must avoid gloating as a secular world might. The accusations are serious, of course, but it’s also true that we’re in the same family. We accept a new responsibility when we decide to follow Christ. We pledge to help our brothers and sisters in the faith, not to judge them. So we grieve.

Second, I think we must hold to the principle of accountability. There are consequences for inappropriate behavior. If one skirts the law, there are fines and other punishments. If one stumbles as a moral leader he or she may need to step aside for a season. So much of accountability depends on the offender’s attitude. Contrition goes a long way; obstinance complicates matters.

But another task we must do is to restore the fallen. The apostle Paul said, “Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And be careful not to fall into the same temptation yourself” (Galatians 6:1, NLT).

Restoration is a Christian alternative to gloating or shaming. Restoration doesn’t overlook an offense but finds a way around it. Restoration says to the offender, “You’re too valuable to cast aside. We’ll work with you to make you stronger, and then you’ll be able to help others who stumble.”

Henri Nouwen popularized the term, “wounded healer.” He said Christ “was wounded for our transgressions,” as Isaiah prophesied so long ago, and became our healer. Nouwen further argued that Christians who suffer, whether by loss, disease or bad choices, can be fitted for better and more effective service to others.

Dr. Charles Chandler founded “Ministering to Ministers” to encourage ministers who’ve experienced involuntary terminations. One feature of MTM’s retreats is the stories of those who’ve been through terminations sharing how they coped. Chandler often tells retreat participants, “Don’t waste your pain. Use it to grow stronger and to help others.”

The Disturber Of The Peace

In a seminary class the late Dr. Frank Stagg made a shocking comment: “We Baptists love Paul more than we love Jesus!”

After letting his word sink in, he continued: “Paul is the apostle of grace. He said we can’t earn salvation, only accept it. We read Paul and rejoice. But we read Jesus and get disturbed.”

Though his comments were made tongue-in-cheek, they contain great wisdom. Jesus came to Bethlehem and disrupted the lives of several people, including King Herod, the innkeeper, the magi, the shepherds, Joseph and Mary. All were busy when Jesus burst on the scene, forcing them to decide what course their lives would take in the future.

Though the prophet called him “the prince of peace,” Jesus continues his role as disturber of the peace.

He disturbs us in our sin. When Pilate killed some Galileans, and a tower fell and killed 18, Jesus told his disciples these weren’t the worst of sinners who died. “If you don’t repent, you’ll perish, too,” he said (Luke 13: 2-5).

Repentance is a radical turn to God. Jesus refuses to let us grow comfortable in a life of dishonor, nor does he want us to perish in unfulfillment. He stands before us and shouts, “Repent!”

Jesus disturbs us in our selfishness.

Once a distraught man asked Jesus to intervene in an inheritance case. He refused, and then took the occasion to speak another sobering word: “Beware of greed, for a man’s life isn’t measured by an abundance of things” (Luke 12:15).

Then Jesus told a story about a wealthy farmer who decided rather than helping others, he’d take his abundant harvest, keep it and live in splendor the rest of his life. Jesus called him a fool because he cared only for himself.

Jesus disturbs me when he tells me I can’t be greedy and godly, and that I must love people more than I love things.

And Jesus disturbs us in our social lives. He said we must love our enemies, bless them and pray for them (Luke 6: 27-30). This word goes against the grain of our human nature. When someone hurts us, our first reaction is to hurt them in return. But this cannot be.

Was Jesus talking about bullies? I don’t think so. Our parents taught us to stand up to bullies. Was he talking about war? I don’t think so. War is a sad reality in our world. I think he was talking about responding in love even when others are unlovely, which is what he did on the cross.

Jesus won’t allow us to be comfortable in disobedience. He disrupts the status quo and offers help to make us into better people.

Christmas Means God Is With Us

I decided to attend graduate school before moving to Kentucky for theological study. My college friends and I bade farewell in December, and in January I moved to Auburn University—my home for the next 18 months. Though on a campus of 25,000 students, I didn’t know a soul and felt very alone. It was not a pleasant time those first weeks.

Novelist John Steinbeck wrote, “We are lonesome animals, who spend all of our lives trying to be less lonesome.”

Our nation is plagued with loneliness. We’ve seen an increase in working remotely during the COVID-19 era. Many of those I know who work from home enjoy the convenience and don’t miss their commute, but it’s also true they become more isolated from workmates. One study found among “Gen Z”—those who are 21-26 years old—one half reported loneliness. Though more connected electronically than previous generations, “Gen Z” has been called “the loneliest generation.” One-third of high school seniors said they “often feel lonely.”

Many older people feel alone, abandoned by friends and family. Great Britain established the “Silver Line” network through which senior adults craving contact can call and talk with others.

We feel alone when sick or facing disease or surgery. We suffer alone in our pain.

Lonely people must take initiative and welcome others into their lives. We find nourishment in community groups, civic clubs and Bible study classes. One lady reported she joined a quilting club in order to teach others her skills. In a short while she found participants not only growing in skills, but lonely participants making new friends.

Lonely people may feel forsaken by God. In “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” Coleridge wrote, “So lonely ‘twas that God himself scarce seemed there to be.” But there’s no place on earth where God is not. We may feel alone because we build walls between ourselves and God, but we aren’t alone. God doesn’t cease caring for us. He made a way for our offense to be covered. The prophet Isaiah wrote, “We all went astray like sheep; we all have turned to our own way; and the Lord has punished him for the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6).

One of the messages of Christmas is that God took the initiative to deal with our loneliness. He sent his son whose name is Emmanuel, or “God with us.” God loved us enough to come to us as one we could see, touch and relate to. As a little girl said, “Jesus is a God with skin on!”

Now God invites everyone to come to him through Christ, the bridge by which we cross the abyss of sin and enter God’s family.

Money Matters

“Do you want cheese on that?” the disembodied voice asked from the drive-through speaker. It reminded me of another cheese incident several years ago.

The customer in front of me had a coupon and presented it to the lady at the counter. But he grew agitated when she rang up his order. “You charged me for cheese, and the coupon said ‘with cheese,’ he said. She patiently went over his charges and explained why the register was right. He would have none of this. I never fully understood his argument, nor why he was so concerned over what, she explained, was a ten cent differential. I should’ve contributed the dime to make him happy and to speed the line along.

Scripture says a lot about money. For good or ill it plays a large role in our lives. Our attention to it can be wise or foolish. We can be foolish to argue over ten cents at the hamburger counter, but we also can be foolish to spend on small things whose total over time can be a large amount of money.

Financial counselors speak the obvious to those in trouble with money: “You must manage your money and decrease your spending.” So they talk about small things that make a difference. Specialty coffee can cost several dollars per cup and eating out every day at work can amount to a big amount of money every month. And how many colas must we drink each day when water is free? As Dave Ramsey famously says, “rice and beans, beans and rice” can be a pretty nutritious menu when a family in debt is trying to save money!

Many struggle with impulse buying made easy with credit cards. Ramsey counsels not to use cards since the average family in America owes $5,525 in credit card debt, paying 18 percent or more interest. Responsible consumers use credit cards as a convenience and keep debt in check by paying the balance each month. But those who wrestle with the temptation to spend impetuously should listen to Ramsey and forego the cards.

King Solomon counseled we learn from the tiniest of creatures, the ant, who labors in the summer to prepare for the winter. We face future expenses such as an automobile, college education or a new roof, and it’s wise to set aside money every month in preparation.

Another way to spend wisely is to use our money as a thank-offering to God. Old Testament saints brought sheep as a sacrifice to the Lord; today we bring cash or checks to honor God and invest in his work. Jesus promised a special blessing to those who develop a life of generosity (Luke 6:38).

When Trouble Comes

I was at the dermatologist’s office for my semi-annual cancer screening, wearing the gown that’s open at the back. My phone buzzed. “Please call me,” my wife texted in all caps. I called to find “someone” had left the lights on overnight in her car and the battery was dead. In the midst of helping her decide what to do, the doc and her entourage came into the exam room. I explained apologetically that I needed just a minute.

“That’s fine,” she said. “Just stand still and I’ll start on your back.”

So while I completed the call, she began to probe my hinder parts with three female assistants looking on. I suppose it was no time for modesty as I dealt with the crisis of the dead battery and the potential crisis of precancerous spots!

The doctor wacked off two suspicious lesions that, fortunately, were benign, and a kindly neighbor pulled his truck into our driveway and jump started the car. So, we survived the crisis of the moment.

I thought how often trouble comes when we’re busy doing other things--trouble much worse than I experienced.

This happened in our church over the past months. A church member had a government agency show up at his business and declare he had to spend thousands of dollars for site improvements he’d not planned for. Another member went for a routine blood test. His doctor saw something he didn’t like and sent him to a specialist. Another person got a call that her mom in another state had fallen and needed brain surgery. A church staff member learned that a teen-ager in a former church was in an accident and died a few days later.

I’m sure every community of faith can recount seasons of difficulty.

In the midst of trouble we often feel no one cares about us. We may even feel abandoned by God. Phillip Yancey wrote, “Where Is God When It Hurts?”—a sentiment commonly expressed.

“Why is God letting this happen to me?” we think, and “What’s this all about? I’m trying to be the best person I can be.”

I frequently share Paul’s word in 2 Corinthians 1:4 at funeral services where families often feel this abandonment. Paul said in trouble we receive the “comfort of God.” We have the assurance that he cares for us whether we realize it at that moment or not.

Paul went on to say that we use the same comfort to comfort others in their time of need. Thus every experience of trouble is a stewardship. God gives us strength sufficient, and later we can confidently and lovingly share our testimony of endurance to encourage others in their trials.

I May Never Pass This Way Again

A denominational meeting took me to Decatur and Huntsville recently. We lived in Decatur 25 years ago before taking a career move to academia. The area has grown. Though many areas looked recognizable, such as the house where we used to live, so much of the city was unrecognizable. Facebook helped me remember being in Huntsville five years ago for another denominational gathering. I had someone take a picture of me and four college friends at the meeting, so this was a “memory” that appeared on the page. But I think the last time I was in Decatur was to assist with a funeral some 20 years ago or more.

 I’ve had several thoughts, or “musings,” as Dr. Birx described the speech of former President Trump. “He just says what he thinks; it’s musing,” she said.

 I thought of good work I was able to do. We believers know that what we do for Christ has eternal consequence. And what we do might not seem monumental at the time: a word of encouragement, a visit with a lonely senior adult, speaking a word of truth from God’s word or a prayer with the dying.

But I also thought of failures. I’ve made my share in ministry. We older ministers joke among ourselves about being “seasoned” in ministry. This comes about because of the mistakes we made! No Christian is “ten feet tall and bullet proof” as Travis Tritt sang. Every failure should tender our hearts for others who struggle (and I surmise that’s most of us). Our stumbles can bring about the compulsion to reach out to others in their discouragement and offer words of hope.

Another thought I’ve had is that I may never have opportunity to be in those places again. My work is in the Birmingham area and that’s primary. I may never have occasion again to be in places I’ve lived and served. There might be no reason to go, or work might keep me busy or death may come. No one knows the day nor the hour when the death angel will stand before us.

Quaker missionary Etienne de Grellet wrote the famous lines: “I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

Today is a God-given opportunity to do good—to “let our light shine” as Jesus said.

But today is also a time to refresh ourselves in God’s mercy. He promises “forgetfulness” when we come to him in repentance to ask his forgiveness for wrong choices we made yesterday.

Giving Is Part Of Thanksgiving

It’s called “cognitive dissonance” when our thought process is different from our life choices. For example, we know greasy cheeseburgers aren’t good for us, but we still enjoy them. And we know we need to exercise but won’t get out of the easy chair! Another example is our generosity.

“The Christian Post” released a study on Nov. 1 about the giving habits of Christians. According to the report, a majority of evangelicals believe tithing (giving ten percent of one’s income) is biblical, but about 13 percent practice tithing. Furthermore, about half of evangelicals donate less than one percent of their income annually.

Tithing was part of the law in the Old Testament. Though we’re hard-pressed to find it in the New Testament, we do find another concept: “grace giving.” That is, because of God’s life-changing love for me, I respond with gratitude. I give not because of the law, but because I’m compelled by love. I think most believers know this is true.

Thus, cognitive dissonance. We know the truth, but we don’t practice it. Perhaps we convince ourselves we don’t have enough to give, or the student loans and other bills are overpowering, or we promise that when we get an increase in salary we’ll do better.

Another finding in this survey is there’s “relatively little difference in average generosity levels between an evangelical  in a household earning $50,000 and in one earning $150,000.”

This belies the assertion that people give more when they have more. Jesus said, “He that is faithful in the least is faithful also in the much” (Luke 16:10). If we’re not generous in our current life situation, how could we expect God to bless us with additional wealth?

The survey found one more interesting fact; namely, evangelicals who attend church regularly give more to God’s work. This makes sense because it is in the church that we talk about giving as an act of worship, point to the ministry needs of our communities and have means of receiving and spending money for ministries and missions.

We had a pastor when I was a teen-ager who announced in the pulpit that he studied the giving records of the members. This is certainly inappropriate since giving is a confidential matter. He dug himself deeper when he said, “And some of you don’t pay your share of the light bill!” The pastor created resentment, of course.

We don’t give to God’s work to be seen and heralded by others, even the pastor. We give to God’s work from a heart of love in response to his love that changed our lives, and with the conviction that our money is well-invested when we spend it to help others.

On Being Bi-Musical

It’s been said most of us don’t graduate from the music we liked in college. True for me; I still listen to Herman’s Hermits, Anne Murray and the Carpenters. However, I found a new, less mellow band lately in an unusual way.

I talked with a pastor who visited a contemporary church in his city, and asked him several questions about his experience, especially the music. He said there was very little congregational singing, and it was more like a concert with the band playing and praise team vocalizing. When I asked him what the music was like, he said, “It was like the music you and I used to listen to.” When I asked him to be specific, he said, “ZZ Top!”

So I had ZZ Top on my mind when I found a television documentary about them. Theirs is an interesting story, and I downloaded one of their albums on my iPod for the first time. I was especially intrigued by their duet with Elvis on “Viva Las Vegas.” This combination is as unlikely a pairing as Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga, who had the best-selling CD in America in 2014 (and followed it with a second one).

Some who write about faith matters insist people shouldn’t have to abandon their musical comfort zone when they worship. Thus, they say, there should be Bluegrass gospel for some, country gospel for some, jazz gospel for some and rock gospel for others. A California church offers Hawaiian gospel.

I remember hearing one of these writers “diss” organ music. “Who listens to organ music on the radio?” he asked. And that’s a fair point.

But musical tastes evolve.

Composer Ralph Carmichael died a few weeks ago. He’s called the father of contemporary Christian music for his work in the 70s. Andre Crouch wrote in the same era. Their music seemed a little “edgy” at the time—worship with a beat. Now it’s more mainstream. The hymnal our church uses has a Carmichael song and five Crouch songs.

I’m of the opinion Christian worshippers should be eclectic, or bi-musical just as many are bi-lingual. We should be able to enjoy the great hymns in their traditional settings and worship music with various orchestrations, too. I think that’s where most churches are in my denomination. We can sing the classic hymn, “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise” with the organ, but we can also sing “I’ll Fly Away” or join in Hank Williams’ “I Saw The Light” with a guitar.

It might be a bridge too far for the churches I know to have rock gospel this week, though it might conceivably seem tame to the next generation if it shows up in their hymnals.

Great Church Fights

He became a good friend after a mutual friend introduced us. Once he told me his greatest struggle as a pastor.

“Every three or four years the deacons come by and say, ‘The church isn’t growing. We think you should go,’” he said. “How am I supposed to take care of my family and keep my sanity?”

At conferences over the years I met two pastors who’d been terminated three times. I can’t imagine the trauma of this.

A new study by LifeWay Research found that 69 percent of evangelical pastors admitted to conflict in their churches. This isn’t surprising; I thought it might be higher. Every church is made up of individuals with different perspectives, theology and needs, so conflict is inevitable, just like in marriage. Couples who say they’ve never had a disagreement are rare, and probably untruthful.

I remember only one man who insisted he and his wife never argued. He also insisted he’d gone on a double-date with Elvis Presley, so I didn’t know what to think of his claims!

The survey found higher incidences of conflict over proposed changes in the church, and over the pastor’s leadership style. Interestingly, theology and politics accounted for only 12 percent or less of conflicts. A denominational official used to insist 90 percent of church conflict wasn’t about theology, but about “who’s going to be the boss?”

Since church conflict is inevitable, the key is how we deal with it.

Jesus taught conflict management in Matthew 18, proposing three steps. The first is a private meeting between the two parties. Many conflicts could be solved there. It takes courage to go to another person and humbly seek forgiveness and restoration. The tendency we have in this early stage is to involve our friends, seeking their blessing and persuading them to be “on our side.”

The second step is to bring in others as prayer partners and encouragers. Often churches ask their deacons to assist if this step is necessary.

The final and hardest step is to bring the matter to the whole assembly, dismissing the offender if her or she isn’t repentant.

A church in our metro area did this a few years ago when a public official who lost his job due to moral indiscretion refused to repent before the Lord and his church. The man rebuffed their entreaties. The congregation felt their reputation as a church was impaired and regrettably took this drastic step.

LifeWay found that about 10 percent of pastors leave congregational ministry annually, so the attrition rate is relatively small. But leaving ministry due to conflict is regrettable and most often unnecessary.

I believe Christians of goodwill can find a way past church fights.