Are We There Yet?

LA Mission Trip Video

2011-04-01T08:43:00.000-07:00

This is a short update for those who were following the 2011 LA Regent/OB Impact Trip. Enjoy!

http://www.regent.edu/admin/media/fms/vod/singlePlayerURL.cfm?address=9000485

Something's Brewing

2011-03-03T23:14:00.000-08:00

So let's be honest; 35 students can't change a world class city like Los Angeles in a week. But what they can change is perhaps more important--their own mind. All week I've watched Regent students serve in selfless and powerful ways. They've given out food and clothing to those in need, they've played with kids with no dads, prayed and cried with lonely middle schoolers scared from a drive by shooting. They have done all these things and more...

But some of the most amazing moments were in the quiet moments over coffee on the trip. Students thinking. It's what they're supposed to do, but how often does it really happen? "What will this change in my life? How will I act differently towards those in need back at school? How are the different ethnic groups on our campus getting along? How could we make our community a more loving, compassionate one?

These are the small questions that percolate into large changes. Something's brewing among these students, and I'm proud to say that I know them. It's great to change your Spring Break plans; even greater to change your mind about how to treat others on a daily basis.

Sleep Here?

2011-03-02T19:25:00.000-08:00

"Sleep here" the sign says, stenciled onto the filthy sidewalk, barely visible amidst garbage and refuse. The sign is not graffiti, I learn, but official government information, like 'One Way' or "Historical Marker." The reasoning behind the official solution to the homeless problem on Skidrow seemed plausible enough to city planners. Vagrants and displaced persons took up far too much space on the downtown sidewalks, sleeping in makeshift tents and cardboard boxes. No one could get by. The merchants and residents of nearby Little Tokyo complained; the human clutter spoiling their manicured paradise. So why not have designated spots where the homeless should stay?

Should any human tell another that it's right or preferred to sleep on a sidewalk? Isn't this a solution less humane than the problem? What can we say about a city whose solution for people in need is a stencil mark on the cement?

Just around the corner, Willie Jordan puts her mark down. She says, "No, sleep here." The Fred Jordan Mission http://www.fjm.org/ nestles in the muck Skidrow in downtown LA with beds and blankets and Bibles and blessings. The mark they make is the simple, clear life of a 77 year old woman who reaches out to touch each hand lifted in need. Founded in 1944 by her late husband, the Mission has been a haven to the desperate and the destitute for over 60 years. Willie has worked so long in the place that she has outlived 90 percent of the missionaries sent from FJM, true to her mission to bless the poor.

With each prayer, with each box of diapers handed out to mothers with babies on the street, a hot meal in their cold world, Willie makes her mark on LA. Since she was 15 years old, she has tried to hug the homeless into safety, one person at a time. "Honey, God has a better plan for you... He doesn't want you on these streets. He loves you, and wants you to come home.

Willie Jordan made her mark on me, as strong, caring and great a woman as I've ever met. I pray that she will continue to bless the poor that enter her door.

Young Adults want to Tweet and Serve in the Street

2011-02-28T23:08:00.000-08:00

I'm in Los Angeles with a team of students from Regent University and we were blessed on our first full day here to spend time with our friend Matthew Barnett, pastor of the Dream Center. First, I need to say that he has more energy than any one man should possess, and speaks in a steady flow of humor, wisdom and cultural references that defy the mind and astound the soul. He preached a truth wound tightly like a spring, spiralling again and again around a profoundly simple, supple message, "God will supply ALL your needs according to His riches in glory."

He also said something i thought was fascinating. "I was offered the chance to purchase television time, from a reputable source and it would be an excellent opportunity for our ministry. But you know what? I said 'no.' Do you know why church? Because that money would be better used to help the poor. Because God hasn't called us to be a television ministry-- he's called us to help the children in South Central who need a father, children who are stuck in the foster care system. That's where we are going to spend our money."

[Historical sidelight: Pastor Barnett uttered those words in the historic Angelus Temple, built by Aimee Semple McPherson well know for her use of media like radio to share her gospel of healing, tongue speaking and faith. Pretty interesting]

Further, Barnett referenced recent ascerbic debate in the twitterverse between evangelical/reformed heavyweight John Piper and uber cool wordsmith Rob Bell of Mars Hill Bible Church. He said, "I think sometimes we get caught up talking about all these "trending topics" on Twitter and we're just circling around and around the Bible (here the enthusiastic Barnett circumnavigates his Bible on the stage) when what we really need to do is pick it up and read it to a kid that's in need or a prosititute on the street who hasn't eaten or slept in days."

Was it a cheap shot? Well...we've all followed @MatthewBarnett enough on Twitter to know that his words weren't a condemnation of that media. And to be fair, he didn't do justice to the possibly substantive debate on the nature of salvation that is at the heart of the Piper "twittervention" of Bell's alleged universalism. But Sunday I heard a young man sick of the artificial distinction between talking about theology and doing theology. I saw an assembled crowd of 18-26 year olds that were part of "The Movement" who want to take their Bible and walk it out on the streets of Los Angeles. And without saying that the heavyweights involved in the debate are doing ANYTHING wrong, I know from seeing the lives of the 35 Regent students working alongside Operation Blessing in LA, many young people want to Tweet AND serve in the street.

Why not have both?

The Truth, a Social Experiment?

2011-02-10T05:24:00.000-08:00

I just saw the movie "The Social Network." I liked it, despite some plot pacing problems. But as I watched it, I wondered how much of the story was "true." Mark Suckerberg, the protagonist boy genius who invents "Thefacebook" comes across as socially awkward but focused and brilliant. The movie highlights his relationships with best friend and Facebook Co-founder, Eduardo Saverin, as well as Napster co-founder and Facebook collaborator Sean Parker. It doesn't take long to guess that the actual principals in the story have to be at the best uncomfortable with their portrayals in the movie. And again I wondered, "Is this how it really happened?"

So when I came across a quote from Aaron Sorkin, who wrote the screenplay, I was stunned.

"I don’t want my fidelity to be to the truth; I want it to be to storytelling. What is the big deal about accuracy purely for accuracy’s sake, and can we not have the true be the enemy of the good?"1

I can appreciate storytelling as much as the next guy, and understand dramatic or "artistic license." But to be so cavalier about "the truth," as if the details of our life were just some artist's palette of colors to be blended and blurred for the sake of expression, seemed to go over the line. If one owes "integrity" to "storytelling" rather than "the truth" doesn't this place entertainment as the highest good? Hasn't the medium shaped the message, as McLuhan and Postman et. al. said it would?

What do you think? Does the truth have to suffer in order to tell a story? And can "the true" really be the enemy of the good?

1. ^ Harris, Mark (September 17, 2010). "Inventing Facebook". New York Magazine. Retrieved October 9, 2010.

The Big Freeze Ends

2010-12-29T15:54:00.000-08:00

I have a unique way of allowing anxiety to freeze my faculties when it comes to big decisions. Whether or not to get a dog must be a BIG decision…because I’ve been frozen for some years! I know, you’re thinking ‘what’s the big deal,’ right?

“Every kid deserves to have a pet growing up,” you’ll tell me. (And I suppose it won’t help to remind you that I bought them hamsters six full years ago? No? Ok, didn’t think so).

It’s just that every time I think of all those vet visits, the hassle of finding pet sitters (in addition to baby sitters) and the added expense of another mouth to feed I’m rendered immobile as a teen asked to do chores. “Maybe just a bit more time to think about this?” I mutter, to whomever might be listening.

And apparently, no one was…listening, that is. Because my wife got that look on her face that says “Please don’t bother to say ‘no’ when I ask you this question” (her face is very expressive). “Are we going to get the kids a dog for Christmas?”

What can you say to a face that forbids “no?” Before I knew it we were off to the VA Beach SPCA

I must have had “that” look on my face (the look of a man who knows he’s about to spend money and is not happy about it) because my wife said, “Oh, didn’t you hear that Priority Automotive is providing free pet adoptions before Christmas?” (I hadn’t). “Crud, there went one of my best, most practical arguments,” I thought to myself, of course, not expressing this to the now smiling face directing me into the SPCA parking lot.

Once inside, I had the ominous feeling of a doomed man. Memories of Hillary Clinton, postulating the existence of a vast right wing conspiracy, drifted through my head. Because, I’m not quite sure how to put this, everyone in the SPCA seemed to be on a first-name basis with my wife, Bridget. “Hi Bridget, (said with a knowing look) good to see you.” “Great to see you again, Bridget, you’ll be coming right this way, yes? Oh, and HE’S the one? (with a contemptuous nod of the head in MY direction). “Good luck!”

That’s when we met a Lhasa Apso named “Alex.” Even HE seemed to know Bridget, jumping up into her lap and yipping with joy in the small cubicle reserved for ‘visiting hours.’ The realization slowly dawned on me that we weren’t ‘just visiting’ and that I had entered a battle of wits unarmed. The long freeze was over in my decision-making process. We were the proud owners of a 6-year old rescued dog who was coming home with us for Christmas.

Should a church feel like a night club opening?

2010-10-21T19:14:00.000-07:00

The Regent University Mission team was in New York City this week to serve on the streets and in the hospitals to give care and compassion in the name of Christ. To be fair, there is great debate as to what if anything a short term team can accomplish that adds to the work going on long term in a location. For that reason, I work to always come alongside existing ministries like NYSUM or The Bowery.

But once the students get out on those streets, they discover the truth that ministry is draining. Jesus knew it... when the woman with a 12 year medical problem touched him, the Bible records Jesus' words "Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me." That's why our groups always visit not one but several great, bible-believing churches to recharge spiritually. This trip, it just so happened that Hillsong NYC was launching as a new church. We joined nearly 4000 other young people in making this first service a can't-miss event. In fact, for the first time I can remember, we stood in line for church for over an hour and a half!

Going to a church service that felt like the opening of a new club was a novel experience. People walking down the street would stop and ask, "What's happening here?" The answer would come, "It's the launch of a new church," to which there was an inevitable quizzical rejoinder, "What kind of church?" Answer: One unlike I've ever seen!

Couple of observations about this new church from a former church planter:

1. Almost no money was spent on advertising/marketing. The push was through Twitter @HillsongNYC btw. (yes I follow) as well as Facebook. The result? A huge crowd of young, hip church goers.

2. The pastor/spiritual rock star @CarlLentz was on the scene giving a very distinctive flavor for the evening. Virginia Beach residents will know him as the hip Pied Piper of Soul Central at Wave Church. Others of us know him as the once-errant son of Steve and Kathy Lentz (also in attendance) and the result of much prayer over the years. God got hold of this guy in a unique way that connects with young adults like very few people I've ever seen. High energy for sure.

3. Big guns @BrianHouston and @BobbiHouston, the dynamic duo co-pastors of the Hillsong Sydney "mother ship" were on hand, as well as their son @JoelHouston, the creative mind behind Hillsong United. Added into the mix was @JudahSmith from City Church in Seattle to give the service the feel of an All-star game of young, hip evangelical leaders in the US and Australia.

4. The young people who were there made it clear, however, that the unifying factor was not the pastor, nor the preaching, nor the "namebrand" church Hillsong, but the music. From the first chord, the crowd hopped, reached, sang and shouted in a familiar sway, demonstrating that it was the experience that mattered, not so much the personalities. Over three thousand people waited in a queue for hours to experience the chance to feel freedom and liberty.

So hop and sway and shout we did, drawing on the spiritual hunger and energy in the Salvation Army theater near Union Square. It replenished us, encouraged us, and sent us out to do more work for others. Do you think a church should feel like the opening of a night club? Let me know.

Pastor Judah Smith meeting Crystal from our team.

Who Are the Homeless?

2010-10-17T05:32:00.000-07:00

Her bag could have been from Fendi, a chic accessory joining the crisp, cool air to give notice that fall had come to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 55th St. The crumpled papers in her hand might have been a playbill from the latest show that the most fashionable boots in the City had tromped by droves to see. The swirl of her conversation could just as well have been recounting her latest visit to Harry Winston’s or De Beers there on fashionable 5th Avenue.

But it wasn’t.

Instead, her conversation over coffee sitting on her bag in the shadow of 5th Avenue Presbyterian Church was an orientation of sorts. This, her first night on the streets of New York City revolved around overzealous policemen who kicked, fined or screamed profanity at her. Prior to tonight she had tried to resolve her “circumstances” by sleeping on the subway. With her bag and knit sweater primly tucked around her, she survived for months in this manner, by day the fiancé of a Chinese pastor, by night a hounded denizen of the public transportation system.

I didn’t understand.

Why would this spirited, Asian woman be sleeping on the street? I began to ask questions, to discover the reasons behind her circumstances. Had she spoken to her fiancé the pastor? Did the church know she was here? How long had they been paying the fines levied on her for her nomadic public slumber? I needed a peg to hang this on, an entry point into her world.

She rebuked me.

“I could tell you more about my circumstances, but you couldn’t begin to understand. You would think you did, but you don’t. You would misunderstand and tell someone. And you’d be wrong. You don’t have the perspective of God. Would you like to know why I am here tonight?” Mutely, I shook my head. “I’m here in complete surrender to the will of God.”

She was right.

I needed a tidy explanation. I wanted her to fit into a category that explained her presence there across from the Fendi store, sleeping on the steps. As her rebuke sunk in, I knew I asked questions to discover how she was different from me. How she had fallen. Where she had chosen unwisely; who had failed her, harmed her, victimized her. So that she would be a “homeless” and I her encourager, rescuer, reaching down across the gulf to show my goodness.

Who is my neighbor?

A question asked of Jesus, that ancient sage, designed not to enable further outreach or care for a new friend, but to categorize. To place someone in a group different from oneself, and so to insulate from up close, personal love and care. And so Jesus told a story, about a man in need. A man treated roughly by life, robbed of his dignity and left alongside the road to rot. A man much like the lady I met. But wise Jesus told the story not to focus on a victim who needed help, but on the startling responses from those walking alongside the street. The fashionable, acceptable residents of that city walked right by the man. They knew he belonged to a different category, a man who had made poor choices. Given time, they might help, but circumstances dictated otherwise. But the hated Samaritan walked up and entered the world of the man by the road. Without judging his circumstances, he brought care, and according to Jesus, demonstrated that he was that man’s neighbor. And then I realized, it didn’t matter how she got there…

Eiku is my neighbor.

Prayer of the Heart

2010-09-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

St. Theophan the Recluse (1815-1894), Russian asectic, bishop, and prolific author

I don't know about you, but prayer intimidates me a bit. I'm not by nature a contemplative, and the thought of being alone in a room with just my thoughts (just as likely to be about baseball or some banal subject) is a bit scary. I've discovered that I need coaches or guides in prayer.

One I've discovered is a guy named Theophan the Recluse. I know, I know--any guy with "Recluse" in his name, who's not a spider, has got to be a little creepy. Don't let that intimidate you; he was just a Russian monk of the 19th century. Monks are the ones through history who've made a point of retreating from society in order to think more deeply about God, and cultivate a life of contemplation and prayer. Theophan's main contribution to Christian spirituality was his translation of a group of writings on prayer called the "Philokalia" into Russian.

He says something that helps me, and addresses some of my prayer insecurities.

Recall how you prayed and always strive to pray this way, so that prayer comes from the heart and is not just thought by the mind and chattered by the tongue.

When he says, "prayer...chattered by the tongue" I know just what he means. In my tradition, prayer is considered "good" if it is long, eloquent, and (usually) loud. My tradition values free-form prayer laced with spiritual-sounding phrases like "washed in the blood of the Lamb" and "sanctified and set-apart by the sinless substitutionary atonement of Jesus..." I know all about prayers "chattered by the tongue" and they do much to intimidate me in my own prayer life.

My new friend the recluse, perhaps because he has spent more time praying alone than to try to impress others, speaks of a different kind of prayer-- the prayer that comes from the heart. The thought in this more Eastern method of prayer was to memorize a simple prayer, sometimes called a "breath prayer" and repeat it often enough that the words weren't central. It was a "known-by-heart" prayer.

This kind of heart prayer takes me out of the competition mode. It puts me into more of a contemplative moment, allowing me to reflect on what God might have to say to me. This I think, is what Theophan must have intended. Perhaps that is why the saint once known as "George" took the name Theophan which means "God appears." When we pray from the heart, God often appears.

How do you feel about prayer?

Are You Trapped by the Monster Regret?

2010-07-28T20:23:00.000-07:00

I went on a date with my wife to see the movie Inception this week. Have you seen it yet?

Check out this trailer to see if you'd be interested:

The film focuses on Dom Cobb, whom Peter Travers in his review in Rolling Stone calls".. a professional invader of the subconscious played with action-star ferocity and emotional heft by Leonardo DiCaprio. Corporations, like the one run by Mr. Saito (Ken Watanabe), hire Dom and his crew to get inside people's heads."

Get inside my head is exactly what this film did, and if you haven't seen it--make plans to go, but be prepared to be confused. Or befuddled. Or enlightened, as the case may be. I know that I was all three before the film finished it's plunge through three layers of dream space, subconscious "limbo" and sudden shifts from past to present to future time.

In case you'd like to see the movie, I won't go in to every twist and turn of the labyrinthian plot. I would like to focus in on one aspect of the film that struck me as fascinating. It did, at least, after my wife noticed it. "Did you notice there were only two main female characters?" she asked. (I nod my head semi-intelligently) And did you notice that the younger woman (Ariadne) leads Cobb out of his regret over his wife (Mal)?" (again the semi-intelligent head nod).

That's when all the classic Greek and Roman mythology I had studied once upon a sophomore year came bubbling to the surface. (Thanks Joe Elias and Lou Ledbetter!) Ariadne was the daughter of King Minos of Crete. Crete had a lovely tradition of accepting sacrifices from Athens to feed their nasty monster the Minotaur, held at bay in a bewildering labyrinth. (see the connection coming?) Theseus was among the third group of unwitting sacrifices, but Ariadne comes to his rescue by LEADING HIM OUT OF THE MAZE. Just like Ariadne does for Mr. Cobb in the amazing movie Inception.

So what? Well, beyond a cleverly placed classical allusion, Christopher Nolan suggests to us a powerful principle. Ariadne (the maze maker and breaker) helps Cobb overcome his regret over his wife Mal (that means "bad or evil" in Latin) He has trapped himself in a prison of regret. In a very insightful review of the film, we are reminded that a recurring line in the movie addresses that regret. “Do you want to become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?”

Without spoiling the entire plot, Dom Cobb encases his regrets throughout life in a prison-like structure in his mind, revisiting them in tortured dream sequences. Ariadne discovers this self-torture, confronts him, and ultimately leads him to the only way out of regret--forgiveness. Just as in the classical myth, Ariadne leads him along the thread of past mistakes away from the monster named regret.

Theseus & Minotaur

Of course the answer to that repeated question for me is "NO" I don't want to be an old man, filled with regret. But like Cobb, I do keep past mistakes locked away where no one can see, like a Minotaur in my mind. I offer up sacrifices periodically to appease my guilt, but those sacrifices are never enough. Cobb was trapped, and the guilt increased, demanding more and more of his life in order to be pleased. With the character Fischer in the film, we face those like a father who their whole life has been "DISAPPOINTED" in us. Regret--living in the past--will consume you like a ghastly Minotaur.

Do you have an Ariadne that can uncoil the thread of forgiveness for you? I know forgiving others is hard, but forgiving myself is the hardest. Somehow that trap of self-punishment seems appropriate, but its inevitable end is the maze of regret. I loved the movie Inception, and it has planted the idea in me to face what is MAL (evil) in my life, and banish the "shade" of failure through forgiveness. Otherwise, I will be forever trapped. What do you think?

The Weedeater

2010-07-20T19:47:00.000-07:00

The orange and chrome hardware gleamed in the afternoon sun as Matt, the knowledgeable sales clerk cradled my new Stihl FS 70 RC-E trimmer in his muscular arms. With a quick flick of his fingers to adjust the choke, and a terse tug at the starter cord, the machinery roared to life. The whirring buzz of the string whirling at hundreds of revolutions per second sounded like music to me, announcing my triumph over that most annoying of adversaries—a perfectly good apparatus that refuses to work as it was designed.

If you’ve ever used a weedeater or trimmer, you know the basic concept is devastatingly simple. A small motor spins a shaft down the length of the trimmer that in turn rotates at high speeds a head attached to its end. Heavy plastic line cleverly wound in a tight coil around the head is released by a spring-loaded assembly when the operator taps the head on the ground. The result is enormously gratifying; a whirling dervish of devastation that thrashes weeds and undergrowth like a magic scythe of power. Magic, that is, as long as it works.

I say that because the dirty little secret about weedeaters is that they RARELY work as they were intended. For every moment that I’ve enjoyed riding the wave of power as the weeds fell in submission at my feet, I’ve suffered through ten more of untangling snarled string, taking apart clogged-carburetors and expressing in colorful language my feelings for a machine that just won’t start.

My recent purchase of this commercial-grade piece of mechanical beauty reminded me that my feelings about the weedeater almost exactly mirrored my view of another apparatus—the church. The church was designed by God to be an amazingly powerful and awesome tool. Men and women rescued from lives of selfishness and sin bond with one another in gratitude over God’s grace in their lives. They turn their hearts heavenward in thanks to their Savior, and then extend their hands in service to others. The Owner’s manual says it comes down to only those two things (Love of God and neighbor), devastatingly simple right?

Wrong. If you’ve ever ventured into a church you will have discovered their dirty little secret…they don’t work like they’re supposed to. People who’ve been in church for 25 years are just as mean and nasty as when they came. The church’s line of love intended to extend to a hurting community becomes wrapped firmly around itself, snarled in internal conflict. Sinners—for whom the church was designed—are made to feel unwelcome (as if the weedeater were shocked to find a weed in its path). Insecure leadership foul the engine of God’s love for the world with self-aggrandizing plans of kingdom building. More than once I’ve cursed the whole, darn contraption.

And yet…the roar of that orange and chrome magic machine in my hands brought a prayer to my lips. “Lord, this time let the thing work right. Repair it Lord, fix it and start with me…”

Is Hoarding Rewarding?

2010-07-05T13:31:00.000-07:00

I recently saw someone who had hurt me badly. I knew the meeting was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. My stomach dropped like it does on a rough plane ride when I saw the person. Old pain returned instantly as I recalled and rehearsed the ways this person had betrayed my confidence, attacked my character, even physically threatened me. Both “fight” and “flight” presented themselves as equally attractive alternatives—and for a moment I wasn’t sure if I was going to run away or punch them in the gut. It made me wonder--what do you do when old feelings flow over you in an angry flood?

Me—I tend to be a hoarder. Just come over to my house and you’ll find all the books and cool stuff I’ve “saved” in storage. My garage ostensibly houses cars; alas, now one can barely squeeze in past all the stuff I’ve hoarded. (Notice when it’s mine I call it stuff, if it was yours I’d call it junk.) So just to be consistent I hoard up all the hurts from the past and store them conveniently where I can get to them when I need them. Somebody hurt me? Well, I may have to haul out the junk I have on them and just share it with somebody at just the right moment to do the most damage. Or if I have a chance to help someone, may have to check my emotional attic to see what “junk” I have hoarded up against them.

You know what I’ve discovered about my system, however? Not only does my emotional “house” get really cluttered and hard to get around, I may be killing myself. Come on, really? Researchers have demonstrated that the way husbands and wives argue over those old wounds, you know the hot button topics right? Money, children, sex, dirty socks on the floor (I was going to move them honey, I promise!) …the way we argue over them can actually cause hardening of the arteries. All that junk I was hoarded up seems to have landed in my arteries!

So what’s a hoarder to do? It’s simple really. If you had a bunch of outstanding checks that were floating around out there, and you’ve never really figured out how they affect the bottom line of your checking account, what would you do? You’d reconcile your checkbook, right? That’s exactly what we need to do with our emotional debts, reconcile them, and in Bible terms that means forgiveness. Remember that phrase in the famous prayer? MT 6:12 Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. That means we have to find all the junk in the basement and just throw it out. Go to the person if possible and let them know we forgive them. You know how much fun it is to go down the checkbook and see all those nice little check marks beside outstanding checks? That’s what it feels like to be reconciled—all outstanding debts accounted for, all the junk thrown away, instead of hoarded up in my arteries where they’re killing me!

What's in your emotional attic?

A Sip from the World Cup...

2010-06-22T07:07:00.000-07:00

Thoughts from Ashley Woodiwiss...

For some the Cup thus far has been a disappointment.

There have been costly mistakes made by usually sure-handed goalkeepers, there have been controversial calls made be referees affecting the outcomes of matches (and the future tournament fate of teams), there has been a general low level of play, there has been the sputtering of traditional soccer greats France, Italy, and England (all of whom face the real possibility of being eliminated in short order). And especially for the French there has been national embarrassment as their team not only fails to perform on the pitch but has matched that with a complete internal meltdown culminating in the players simply leaving their practice field and refusing to train.

For U.S. fans specifically, there continues the usual World Cup emotional roller-coaster of not knowing which U.S. team will show up on the pitch. The Yanks, too, are on the brink of elimination. And of course there is sadness in South Africa (though in truth, not completely unexpected) in the woeful record of the six African nations, with only Ghana in a strong position to go through to the round of sixteen. And then there are the vuvuzelas, those incessantly blowing horns customary in Africa and nettlesome to non-African players, coaches and commentators. With their sound likened to a swarm of angry wasps, though at jet airplane decibel levels, the buzz is omnipresent at every stadium and during ESPN's coverage. There was talk early that FIFA, world soccer's governing board, would ban the instruments, but they didn't and so the wasps swarm on.

But in fact, one's response to the vuvzuelas may be a good Rorschach test for responding to the Cup so far. While for some the vuvuzelas represent all that's been wrong with the Cup, for others they capture the spirit of this Cup and its host continent. It's all part of the narrative. So while the Cup has been a disappointment for some, for others it has been dramatic. There have been several David-Goliath matches in which minor soccer powers (Switzerland! New Zealand! Algeria!) have tied or even defeated their mighty opponents (Spain! Italy! England!). There has been the joy of African goals and especially host South Africa's goal in the opening match that set the vuvuzelas blaring and Archbishop Desmond Tutu to dancing in his VIP box. There have been glimpses of brilliant play from Germany, Argentina, and, on Saturday, from Brazil. And there has been the magic of Argentina's striker Lionel Messi, who turns 23 this Thursday. He has not scored a goal at this Cup, but through his sheer brilliance in ball-control and passing and his threatening presence, Messi is clearly this tournament's most valuable player to date. While some bemoan the fate of the major European powers, there has also been pleasure in watching the rise of tiny Slovenia, perhaps best known to readers of B&C as home to philosopher Slavoj Zizek. This nation, so small that it has been estimated that 248 Slovenias could fit into the U.S., also has a prime minister who promised to clean the boots of the Slovenian team if they qualified for the World Cup. They did, and he did. At the moment they sit atop Group C. To watch the success of Slovenia (and other minor powers like New Zealand, and South America's Paraguay, Chile, and Uruguay) is to imbibe the beauty of the Cup. To dance with them following a goal, a dance described as a slow-footed circling of happy trees in the Slovenian Alps, is to enter into the joy of the Cup.

Has the Cup been a disappointment? Yes, surely it has. Has it also had its moments of joy? To be sure. So sound the vuvuzelas, and let's get ready for more. It's a beautiful day.

A Slice of Americana

2010-05-29T16:37:00.000-07:00

"What took you so long?" joked Virginia's 71st Governor, "Landslide" Bob McDonnell as he took the stage to honor candidate Scott Rigell on his 50th birthday. Partisans from Virginia's 2nd Congressional District crowded the Cavalier on the hill; majestic landmark to old Virginia Beach money. A swell of enthusiasm and laughter greeted the good natured joking between two old friends and new allies. "No joke, I've been trying to get this guy to run since 1994."

The offhanded comment revealed a backstory, no doubt present in every campaign, of how the players got to center stage of the political drama. Watching on in the crowd was a grey-haired veteran both of the automotive business and the political game, the Hon. Conoly Phillips. He smiled, perhaps remembering how he'd met Rigell as a young, promising MBA student at Regent University in 1987. Truth was, he gave him his start in the local car world, where Rigell worked for about five years until he was able to purchase his own dealership.

And now Mr. Phillips serves as chairman of the board for Regent University, that aims to train "Christian leaders to change the world." He has to feel good, seeing a governor, and perhaps a future Congressman, espousing values he holds closely, sharing a stage and electrifying the swelling crowd. But perhaps most importantly, Shannon Kendrick--African American Regent government staff, and Juan Gonzalez- local Latino pastor and community activist, as well as Hunter Hangar, current Regent second year law student, are amidst the crowd, cheering on the candidate as well. This candidate brought together a community; the young, the religious right, a significant Hispanic minority (meeting campaign manager JAson Miyares' mother was a thrill!)

For a moment, on Memorial Day weekend, at Scott Rigell's 50th Birthday party, as his third generation Marine son Justus stood to thank the crowd, I took in the joy of being an American. Not the thrill of being right, but of having a choice. Of families that can better themselves through education; achieve the "American Dream" of earning probably more money than they ever imagined. Regardless of the election results, Scott said it "This is, without a doubt, the best birthday I've ever had!"

What Makes People Magnetic?

2010-05-19T17:32:00.000-07:00

I spent time with my mentor Bill today. It's tough to do on a normal day, because he has people waiting in line by the dozens to spend time with him, talk to him, ask him questions or seek his counsel. But this time it was especially difficult, because he just underwent surgery for colon cancer. Everybody on the East Coast, and beyond it seems, has been wishing him well for the last several weeks. The thought of a world without Bill struck so many of us as wrong and frightening and frankly, unthinkable, that even the waitresses in local restaurants were going out of their way to communicate love, support and well wishes to this magnetic man.

It made me wonder: what makes some people so irresistibly interesting? What qualities in some people around us bring us back for more and more? Why are certain people the ones we call when catastrophic or celebrative events alike take place? Why are we drawn to them so?

I asked a couple of my friends at Regent University--guys I trust, and whom I have seen draw others to themselves because of their strength of character and boldness of action. This is the list that they drew up. See what you think. What others should we add?

Courage: Immediately one of them said "courage." People were drawn to David in the Bible because of his courage. Not only in standing up to his enemies, but in confronting evil, and in the insistence he do the hard things himself .

Humility: The other gentleman added "humility." Peter the apostle mentioned it as a crucial quality a shepherd leader possesses. No one is drawn to a narcissist.

Authenticity: This one was easy to point out from the life of my friend Bill. He is himself no matter who is around... sometimes to a fault. He speaks the truth, and models approachability to both prince and pauper.

Selflessness: Knowing that someone who lay down his life for you, lay down his schedule for you, listen to your needs without jamming his agenda down your throat...these are the qualities of a selfless friend. They make my friend Bill magnetic, a beacon to those in trouble, who are hurting, who have screwed something up in their life, and are looking for an understanding heart and a listening ear.

I would travel for days by dog sled to tell my buddy what he means to me, and express how much we've lifted him up in prayer. My fellas here reminded me that David in the Bible drew 400 folks who were hurting and in trouble and inspired fierce loyalty in them for the rest of his life. He's a magnet...there's no doubt.

What do you think makes people magnetic?

Roots--Pt. 1

2010-05-01T17:21:00.000-07:00

Roots... everybody's got them. Here I refer not to family heritage, but intellectual roots. Which is to say, what set of experiences and thought systems fed and nurtured my thinking? And though my theological tree be a dwarf bansai or a majestic oak, in what soil is it rooted and grounded?

I guess what got me started snooping around the base of my theological trunk was an excellent post by my colleague Dr. Dale Coulter in School of Divinity at Regent University. He was asking questions about the Reformed movement from outside that camp. In the post (you should read it) he takes a historian's view of three streams of Reformed thought; 1) Puritan Congregationalist, 2) Scottish Presbyterian and 3) Dutch Reformed. That may already be more theology than you'd care to consider, but for me it awakened memories of joining the little Presbyterian church in my hometown of Shelby NC, and coming into contact with the first root of my tree--the Reformed faith.

Root 1: Reformed thought

For those of you who don't know, in the Presbyterian way of life, you get wet as a squawking baby at the insistence of your parents. They get to feel better about themselves because they did something holy for their kid, but not quite as good as Catholic parents, because I wasn't considered "saved." That comes later. But at about age "12" you hit the next important phase (no not acne) and that's called "Communicant's Class" a.k.a. "joining the church."

I was pretty excited about joining the church because it seemed a real bummer to miss out on the grape juice and crackers that made their way around the little 150 seat sanctuary every month or so. Members could partake of that important act in a fully adult fashion, and I was eager to do so. But first, my friends and I from the 6th grade class had to make it past the pastor's "Communicant's" class .

The things I remember from that class are not all theological. I remember the girls eagerly quizzing us boys if we were in fact circumcised. We dutifully memorized verses out of Romans that we were told formed a "road" that seemed important somehow. But the big showstopper requirement was a personal interview of one of the "elders" of the church.

I arrived at the elder's home, armed with a hand held cassette recorder, knees knocking to speak to the only Doctor in our small church. But in a moment, the doctor/elder melted my fears and wrapped me up in a big, warm explanation of the truths of God, His providential care of His children, and how He made all things work together for His good. The way he said it, I just knew that it was all true.

And so it was that with my fellow communicants, and most of the members of our church, I gathered at our church camp to celebrate my first communion. And as I lifted the small cup and put the juice to my lips I caught the eye of the elder/doctor and he smiled. And my father saw that smile, and he smiled, and then the juice went down, hot and stinging. But I knew that I was in a family, rooted to generations of thinking believing men who believed that God would and could work things together for His good.

What were the roots of your beliefs? I would love to hear them.

Root 2 (Coming soon) Charismatic

A similar tangled root system can be found in the writings of James Smith who teaches philosophy at Calvin College in Michigan.

A New Commandment

2010-04-16T08:57:00.000-07:00

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34

The last hours of a person’s life bring clarity, focus, and poignancy. Deathbed confessions receive special consideration in a court of law, and “last words” often ring for generations because of their pithy power. In his last week on earth, Jesus the Nazarene chose to spend time with his closest friends. In the intimate setting of a meal, reclining together at the table as was the custom in the Near East, some of his final words clearly focused on friendship, and the signature stamp it gives his followers. One of His final statements was elevated to the status of a command, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Recently, I saw this bold challenge lived out in the lives of students right here at Regent University. A group of students gathered together on Maundy Thursday, the day during Holy Week that Christian churches celebrate Jesus’ giving of this new commandment. There, they took Jesus’ words literally, and “loved one another” as Jesus loved his friends. They washed one another’s feet! As an expression of love, friendship and service, they physically removed the shoes and socks of their friends, and bathed feet and toes in cleansing wash.

The moment that challenged me, however, was when one Caucasian student from the Deep South and one African-American brother from the “North” washed one another’s feet. I saw in that simple basin some of the hatred and prejudice that has so long clouded ethnic relationships in our country washing away. I knew that this was no “for the cameras” moment, but reflected a deep respect and friendship built on prayer, listening, and honesty. Truly, these two young men bore the signature stamp of Christian love and friendship, proving to be followers of Jesus.

It made me wonder, “How can I overcome barriers to love others around me more fully?” What keeps me from being a friend to others? What hinders me from taking Jesus at his word, and loving those around me in the simple, servant fashion that He did? When I look at my life in hindsight, as Jesus was able to do in that Upper Room, will it be filled with selfless service to others in demonstration of true love and friendship? Only if I challenge my own failure to love can we become the community envisioned by Jesus, the Nazarene…the one who died that I might be called “friend.”

Beggars CAN be choosers...

2010-03-08T13:33:00.000-08:00

So I'm home now, but reflecting on some of the things I experienced last week. One recurring motif that surprised me was this: 'Beggars Can be Choosers!" What do I mean by that?

Several times during the week our team worked with populations that were either economically disadvantaged or homeless. Our mode of connection was that we had some good or service that we thought they might need, and we were offering this to them free of charge. Several times, however, the intended recipients surprised us by either refusing the goods they seemed in desperate need of, or countering the offer with a demand. "I can't take a size 38, I need a size 36 men's jeans." ("Even though they were beautiful Kenneth Cole?" our team member said!)

Another instance was when at a soup kitchen we were handing out free coats. It was cold, and there was at least 2 feet of snow piled up on the edge of the street. Yet many of the individuals turned down the coats offered, either because they weren't the right style, or didn't fit the way an invididual wanted. (as in, "ma'am, I'm not sure you would quite be able to fit into a small') The worst offender was a woman who jumped in line to start with, got a beautiful, stylish coat, then came back later wanting to return it. She had ripped the loop used to hang the coat, and demanded we take it back because "it was ruined."

I've been wondering about this. Why would people so obviously in need refuse a sincere and adequate offer to meet their needs? Without passing judgment, I wonder if you'd be willing to throw out a few answers, then I'll tell you what I'm thinking.

Homeless

2010-03-04T06:21:00.000-08:00

Hoc…
Deacons careful hands
Lay white linen
Crisp, over the bread.

Hoc est...
Rich velvet rope
Barring the apse;
The elements reserved
In gleaming gold.

Hoc est meum…
Ruined flesh
Prone in coffin cardboard;
Careful hand tucks
Blanket sacrament.

Hoc est Corpus meum,
Homeless.

How's the Fishing, Peter?

2010-03-01T22:25:00.000-08:00

A river of energy flows through Mid-town Manhattan, a veritable Class-5 rapids of elite shopping and upscale destinations. From The Plaza and Central Park issues a cascade of luxury; Versace, Ferragamo, Cartier, Van Cleef & Arpels down fabled Fifth Avenue. Discerning shoppers come to test their skills in landing the big purchase. But there amidst the glitter is another fisherman, plying his trade.

Pastor Peter, as he calls himself, threads the van down the same street looking for a vastly different target. He looks for the huddled and the broken; the disenfranchised and the down and out. "They are transitory," he explains as we troll, "the homeless can't stay in one place for too long because it can be dangerous for them. But I know where to look... we'll find them."

And there, in the side eddy's of the river called New York, forgotten by the famous and bypassed by businessman, are the derelicts of our society. Here on a church stoop, there in a public atrium, this is where Peter the fisherman looks for and finds his catch. "Could we give you a blanket sir? And a sandwich? My name is Pastor Peter, and I'm here to tell you that Jesus loves you."

Cardboard condominiums house migrants, strangely consumer-like in their preferences. "I need a 36 x 30 jeans, those 38's are too big," one man informs. No matter; the need is met with a smile and Pastor Peter, like the clerk in the Armani store within a stone's throw, enobles the man by honoring his request. A hug, a joke shared with "Ray Charles" on his way to Atlanta, massive glasses hiding sad eyes and old pain, form the conversation on this fishing trip. Two old women in a shelter, safe for the night but shattered by life and left shells of what selves they once knew... these are the sights that will haunt.

The New York many know, with it's pulsing rhythm and spinning lights, flows on long into the night. But the swirling pools deep with human pain linger on for me; reminders that the sites I thought I knew, held a deeper truth that belie the wealth on display. Etched now forever in my mind was "Able" asleep under the phones in Port Authority, so far from living his name as if to seem a joke...an obscene joke. Able...now with a blanket. And a prayer.

And Peter the fisherman, showing eager students the good fishing holes, continues as he has for 25 years now, convinced that Able can, and Able will, rise.

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. Matthew 4:18-20

Manzanas y Puerta Abiertas

2010-03-01T14:08:00.000-08:00

I like being on time. I like meetings that run on time. It's an OCD (obessesive complusive disorder) thing. So when our team found out last minute that we were going to lead a worship service for a Hispanic men's rehab center instead of going to a soup kitchen, I twitched a few times, but smiled. When we arrived "late" only to find out that we were 2 hours early for our slot, my smile waned a bit thin. But then when i discovered we'd left the lunches for the team back at the headquarters, well... I thought we'd reached a closed door for the day.

But God had other ideas. Because Sister Anna Villafane and the fantastic people at "Way Out Ministry" in the Bronx have specialized for 42 years in opening doors for those who seem trapped by circumstance. Their precious staff shared their lunch with our students, and allowed us to restart our time of sharing with them. Jorge insisted on giving each student an apple (manzanna) and before long a comradarie connected folks who seemingly had little in common with one another.

But then three students shared stories from their own lives of how God had opened doors to release them from drugs, alcohol and violence in their own families. A student with a Puerto Rican background stepped in to translate many of the truths in culture-transcending power. The meeting ended with the men sharing how they saw open doors in education, in transforming their minds through the truth, and in giving their lives in service to others, as they saw the students modeling.

The 'way out' will of course take more than good feelings and intentions. Doors will open to new tasks for these men as they are mentored back to sobriety. But for a day, students and residents shared apples and open doors, sure that there was hope ahead.

The Missionary Impulse?

2010-02-26T04:48:00.000-08:00

This op-ed by Timothy Egan in the NY Times raises legitimate and important questions about the ill-fated plans of the so-called "Kidnapping for Jesus" case of Laura Silsby. At best, her plans to facilitate adoptions from the beleaguered country of Haiti were naive and unrealistic, given her resources. At worst, they were manipulative and opportunistic.

Yet painting with the broad brush of "cultural imperialism" the author succumbs to tired romantic liberal sentiment. The "noble savage" and his pristine untouched culture and religion should not be disturbed, in this ideology. Yet this ignores many indigenous practices most would consider not so pristine--like "sati"--the burning of widows in Hinduism, or "FGM" (female genital mutilation) in tribal cultures of Asia and Africa. Does Mr. Egan claim "cultural imperialism" when the World Health organization and the UN bans FGM in their work?

As I take a team of students to New York City to express care and concern for those in less fortunate circumstances, this story takes on new meaning. What gives us the right to impose our beliefs on others? Is the "missionary impulse" inherently culturally violent? Some suggest that the "mini-messiahs" who descend upon poorer areas would do better to stay home and send their money to help the truly informed make a real difference. Are we on a fool's errand?

First, one cannot ignore the historic context of Western Christianity and the "Crusades." One's faith should be expressed through the heart, not the point of a spear. Christians should remember that their religion spread originally through generosity, service to the poor, and the death of its founders in persecution. Humility is the prerequisite for any missionary. On the flip side, however, it is naive to imagine that any area's "indigenous" culture is in itself pure or undiluted. Rather, they are the result of millennia of interaction and intellectual trade. Mohammed himself was influenced by both Jewish and Christian ideals,while Buddhism was built on a foundation supplied by Hinduism. Is this necessarily imperialism? New York City doesn't need any mini-messiahs... but humble servants, willing to be changed as they share love and practice understanding? That may not be so bad...

Not so Fast...National Pancake Day

2010-02-23T17:11:00.000-08:00

I'm headed up to New York City Saturday with a team of students and leaders, and I sense that it is going to be a significant time. And all the hip-techno types around me (I'm tragically unhip) tell me I must chronicle this trip with pictures and timely words. So back to my neglected blog.

And something else... a FAST. Yikes. Technically, I'm not supposed to tell you I'm doing that, because Jesus warns religious people like me not to announce their religious activities to others in order to appear more spiritual on the outside than they are on the inside. But the whole reason I'm sharing this is because I DON'T feel particularly spiritual inside right now.

Mostly that's because I'm looking at a stack of PANCAKES Free pancakes Free IHOP Pancakes

It's my wife's fault... (ha bet that one doesn't work) because she sent me with the boys to take advantage of National Pancake Day So there I sit, with tummy rumbling louder than Pooh bear, and a free stack of fluffy hotcakes in front of me. (my Scotch-Irish heritage would not allow me to skip ordering a free stack to take home for the rest of my family). And I begin to say to myself, "Its for a good cause, Leukemia and Lymphoma Society would love for me to eat these pancakes."

"Not so fast," I said to my rationalizing self, "you're on a fast!" All I could smell was batter and syrup. My head was beginning to spin. "What is the big deal about giving up food anyway? God knows we need to eat."

And so I reviewed with my self the whole point... fasting sets apart a time and a person for a special purpose; specifically, God's purpose. Like it says in a record of the early Christians, "Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them." ³So after they had fasted and prayed, they placed their hands on them and sent them off.

Giving up food for a time helps me to focus on the work I have been called to do... in this case, share love and care for homeless and needy individuals in New York City. It reminds me that I am truly dependent on God, though normally I take care of basic needs myself. As my stomach gurgles I determine again to pray, and to set myself apart for God to use. And I vow silently, solemnly, I will celebrate National Pancake Day in my own special way, NEXT WEEK.

Haiti Relief work

2010-01-16T12:07:00.000-08:00

Following Tony Cece and David Darg in Haiti

by David Darg

PORT-AU-PRINCE – We’re in! After a struggle to reach Port-au-Prince, Tony, our video producer, and I were finally able to get two seats on a plane from the Dominican Republic. It was a tiny “4-seater” and was so full of relief gear that it tipped back on its tail before we took off.

Approaching PAP airport was a hairy experience; planes were circling the airport like a swarm of flies. The pilot asked us to keep an eye out for other aircraft and at times we had to do ’stomach in throat’ maneuvers to avoid crossing paths. After 3 aborted landings because of runway traffic we finally touched down and work commenced.

Our Haiti National Director, Eric, met us and took us over to a light aircraft hangar that will serve as our base over the next few days.

The first thing we needed to do was secure water and food for the team; it was extremely hot and we would have become dehydrated very quickly, and a sick aid worker is useless. We also needed to secure more vehicles as our relief efforts are set to quickly expand over the coming days.

We left the relative security of the airport and ventured out into the streets of Port-au-Prince. We were instantly met with horrific scenes as injured Haitians were lining the pavement desperately trying to receive medical attention almost 68 hours since the quake hit.

At a visit to the UN compound for a coordination meeting, I saw another glimpse into the horrendous pain of this quake when we drove past a huge emergency tent full of quake victims struggling for life.

Many Haitians on the streets are wearing coverings over their mouths and noses to hide the pungent smell of death that lingers in the air. People are carrying belongings along the streets in suitcases or on their head. There seems to be quite a migration of people from what is left of the city.

Every day the humanitarian situation grows worse for the survivors.

In the heat, people are desperate for water and that is causing them to drink unsafe water from wherever they can find it. We saw some small children bathing in and drinking a muddy puddle. As the desperation among the survivors grows, so does the anxiety and frustration.

There is a very real concern among aid groups of increasing violence and theft on the streets, but today the streets were calm for us and we can only hope that as the relief efforts ramp up, the tensions will drop.

This has been one of the most difficult launches to a disaster that I have experienced and that is due to the severity of the quake coupled with the lack of infrastructure. But the delays at the airport are a sign that the world is reaching out to Haiti like never before.

Huge C130 Cargo planes have been arriving all day long from the U.S. and tonight some of those planes were being used to evacuate hundreds of American citizens. Cargo planes from other countries such as Israel, Mexico and Canada were dropping massive piles of food, essential relief items and rescue teams.

The Spanish rescue team that we have been shuttling into the quake zone came back with disappointing news that they had only found dead bodies today and most rescuers are suggesting that due to the intense heat it is very unlikely any more survivors will be found.

Saturday morning, Operation Blessing will be delivering our first batch of essential medicines to the hospitals where work is still continuing around the clock to save the lives of injured victims. We are expecting the first team of Israeli doctors to arrive from our partner IsraAid, and as soon as they hit the ground we hope to have them working.

We have 5 water purification units en route from the U.S., each one capable of purifying 10,000 gallons of clean drinking water every day. We did an assessment in a badly damaged neighborhood on the outskirts of the city and are gearing up for emergency food distributions and medical clinics staged out of a damaged primary school that is out of commission for the near future.

I just ate a U.S. military Ready-to-Eat meal (MRE) and hope to sleep soon. My mat and sleeping bag on the hangar floor will not be too uncomfortable, but huge cargo planes roaring down the runway just a few hundred yards away might make for another long night.

Failing Forward in 2010

2010-01-02T07:04:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about failure a bit, as I contemplate my goals for 2010. When I was younger, I never even considered failure an option. Now as an older, presumably wiser person I understand that not everything I undertake works out the way I thought.

Turns out I'm not alone. Here in the 15 Flops of the Decade Business Insider reveals some great big ideas that turned out to be great big failures. Take for instance the "Ownership Society" which sounded great, but yielded a nation of foreclosures and banks with toxic assets. Oops... guess that didn't work out too well...

It made me wonder, how do you handle failure? Do you expect it as a natural part of the growth process or does it shock you when it pokes its head into your life? Do you pour shame and contempt on your self, put on your dunce cap and pout? (really? I thought I had that one patented!) Or do you recognize that failure is a natural part of human growth and development, learn your lesson and move on? Let's agree to fail forward in 2010.

The Bible says it this way...

The godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again.

But one disaster is enough to overthrow the wicked

A Nice take on Advent...

2009-12-13T16:24:00.001-08:00

A friend sent this to me... worth a watch. Enjoy!

http://blog.beliefnet.com/deaconsbench/2009/12/whats-advent-about.html

Benedict--Serving up Rule #2

2009-12-08T06:50:00.000-08:00

St. Benedict breathes his last while in prayer, surrounded by his disciples.

I serve on a committee (which identifies me as a bona fide academic) seeking to understand the current state of spiritual life on our campus (Regent University.) That's a tall order, even for a much smaller organization. I've been impressed with our committee chairperson who has insisted on a broad sampling of input from across the campus community, from facility services to undergrad students to Vice Presidents. I've decided its the type of spiritual community I prefer to grow in.

As you may remember, we've been taking a look at a monk from the 5th century named Benedict. He says in his rule, "Whenever weighty matters are to be transacted in the monastery, let the Abbot call together the whole community..." As a spiritual leader, Benny took seriously the call to listen to his followers. (see Rule 1) In fact, he goes on to say, "we said that all should be called for counsel, because the Lord often revealeth to the younger what is best." This equalitarian strain of hearing from all went directly against the iron-willed rule of many monastic communities of the day. In fact, the tenor of the work that most directly influenced Benedict's rule, "The Rule of the Master" could be summarized in the vernacular as "shut up and color!"

What kind of spiritual community are you attracted to? Do you like a rigid, rules-oriented group where your boundaries are clear and your thinking is done for you? Do you prefer strong, directive leaders who have definitive answers to all of life's pressing questions? God bless you, I wish you well. That's just not for me. I like Benedict's eggs better, thank you very much.

I prefer spiritual community which strives to listen to even the least among them as they pursue God's will.

We all live in a cultural context, and in Benny's day, the church had grown rich and powerful, and many thought it had lost its spiritual focus. So Benedict gathered groups of 12 fellow Christ-followers and lived according to his rule, seeking God together as a community. In fact he started 12 such communities, on the model of Jesus who gathered 12 men around him to do life together.

Many consider our times to be similar to Benedict's. Where once our culture was secular and the church spiritual, now the church is secular and culture spiritual. (not necessarily Christian!) Yet as tempting as it is to hole up in a spiritual community with strong leaders who will build the walls high and "keep out the evil" with strong prohibitions, it seems that Benedict has a better rule.

Rule #2 "Listen to one another, submit to one another out of reverence for Christ."

Robert Webber on Advent

2009-12-05T12:10:00.000-08:00

Here is a devotional published by Robert Webber on Advent. It captures the journey through such an amazing time of year so much better than the "25 shopping days til Xmas."

Link to Webber's article

Definitely worth the read.

Happy Advent!

Benedict--serving up Rule #1

2009-12-01T07:06:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking lately about St. Benedict - and what this ancient monk might have to say to me in my (post) modern life. To save you the "google" Benny was born in Nursia, Italy c. 480 - died c. 547. He was the Abbot of Monte Cassino, and a founder of Christian monastic communities and a rule giver for monks living in community. Right away, if I were you, my eyes would be rolling at the thought of one more religious guy and his "rules." Right? Wrong.

The reason I'm thinking about Benny and his rule is that recently my friend Dr. Mike Moses talked about the value of having a rule (Regula, for you Latin geeks out there) as a guide to one's spiritual growth. He explained a "rule" as a guide or a plan for your spiritual growth. He chose as a metaphor that of an arbor, which gives guidance and support to a young vine as it grows to maturity. A Regula Spiriti, or rule of the spirit, would be one that could guide me in my growth and support my spiritual life in the coming year. And Benedict supplied just such a rule for the monks in his community.

My problem is that I don't so much like rules. Any of them, I'm not choosy. I don't read instruction manuals, and I don't like people telling me I'm doing it "wrong." I'm hard headed that way, and in my children I find a mirror of what happens when one refuses to "listen." Funny, but that's exactly how the Rule of St. Benedict begins, "Listen, my children..." Just like a young vine needs guidance in its growth from the arbor, so a child needs guidance from his parents; and (reluctantly acknowledged) I need guidance from my spiritual fathers and mothers.

Fine... I'll listen. Are you willing to listen to Benedict? I discovered he's not a preacher, not a priest, but a "layman." An ordinary working stiff who was trying to help his friends find some sort of center of soul in the busyness of working. And he wasn't talking to just religious people, as he says, "To you, therefore, my words are now addressed, whoever you may be, who are renouncing your own will..." Hmmm...there's a secret there, from Benny, that the rule is first to listen, then to admit you may be going about things all the wrong way. Thousands of men and later women listend to Rule #1 from Benedict of Nursia. That's why he came to be known as "the founder of western Christian monasticism".

So... Rule #1 from Benedict today is simple.

Stop and Listen...you may be wrong.

Captain Dale Parker in Chapel

2009-11-11T07:15:00.000-08:00

So today we have the distinct privilege to welcome Captain Dale Parker, the Senior Navy Chaplain in the Mid-Atlantic region to University Chapel. If you're a Regent student, or a veteran in the CBN community, you are invited to be part of special worship service to honor our Lord Jesus and recognize our veterans.

In that vein, let me throw you a theological conundrum. As Americans, we are grateful for our freedoms (including the freedom to worship!) and give God thanks for the men and women who purchased and protected that freedom, often with their lives. We see in Scripture great warriors who also served God, including Moses, Joshua, David, and in the New Testament Cornelius and the centurion. Godly men and women can serve their nation and their Lord with honor.

Yet we are also instructed by our Savior " Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven." (Matthew 5:44) To be honest, it comes easier for me on a day like today to pray for our troops, our friends, our "side." Yet Jesus, from His cosmic perspective, looks down on all men, sending rain on the just and the unjust, and asks us to pray for those we consider enemies.

So today I pray for our troops, and for the militant Islamic terrorists who war against our very way of life. I pray their hearts are softened, their minds are changed, and their lives reflect the love they attribute to Allah. I pray for the peace of Jerusalem, that Arab and Jew, Palestinian and Israeli would find common ground. I pray for South Koreans AND North Koreans. I pray for the corrupt Afghani government officials, AND the ... are there any other kind? Just curious.

Let me know what you think. How can we pray for both sides?

Unspoken Request?

2009-10-27T04:46:00.000-07:00

This is a blog entry I have been reluctant to make. The whole facebooking, blogging, and Twittering process involves sharing information about yourself with others. Everything from the mundane "had Fruity Hoops this AM, Yum!" to the amusing "son shoved rox (sic) in the furnace vent--only cost us $1000" (true story) to the annoying, "Jimmy bought a new cow bell and overalls in Farm-Land." I'm comfortable in the land of self-disclosure, and often (as you probably know) fill the digital landscape with verbiage both pedestrian and profound.

But recently, I ran into a roadblock. Something going on in my life so big, so perplexing, that I fell back on that old chestnut of youth group prayer meetings. "I have an unspoken request." For those of you unfamiliar with the expression, it could be hauled out if one was so verklempt as to be rendered speechless by life's troubles, or simply when you didn't feel like praying for Uncle Bob's travel mercies any longer. It was like saying, "I take a pass." Which was exactly what I felt like saying, when I found out that my dad had a tumor in his spine.

To be fair, my Facebook friends responded with grace and charity. "I'll pray!" said one. "From your heart to God's ears," chirped another. But it didn't feel like that to me. When an MRI revealed that my pops had a tumor in his cervical spine, I experienced it almost as a digital event, a strange post about a made-up world of fantasy; this couldn't be happening to me and to my family. Writing the status update , "my dad has a spinal column tumor" was something neither my fingers nor my brain were ready nor able to do.

Not that I am a stranger to tragedy. As a pastor, I have walked through devastating days with parishioners, and our family like yours has endured our share of pain. Yet in this pleasant season where we share a neighborhood with my folks, seeing them nearly every day, such unwanted news shocked me. Writing down that diagnosis seemed too stark, contemplating the possibilities too grim for me to attempt. So I retreated to the unspoken...

But now I speak. First, because I need help. I need friends and acquaintances to pray and encourage me because I simply can't handle life alone. I wish I could. Second, in speaking the unspoken I name our enemy, focus our prayers, target our petitions. Because as dire as that news is, I do believe in power greater than all our troubles. Speaking my need focuses my attention on God's power to save and heal, even in the worst situations.

I'll be frank; my mind often floods with the torrent of possible complications from a surgery that could scar, paralyze or kill. I choose nevertheless to give a "confession of hope" because "He who promises is faithful." That is to say, I dare speak these bare words of need because I do believe that Jesus the healer can and will deal with that need as only one who has died and rose again can... through the doctors, yes, and even beyond a doctor's skill.

So tomorrow morning you may see my status "At the hospital for my dad's surgery." I hope you'll join me in saying a prayer, because this is bigger than me. And the next time you have an "unspoken request" know that I'll understand. But more importantly, the Bible says, "Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD." The unspoken is already spoken to Him. And that's what gives me hope...

“More Cowbell. I’ve got the fever…”

2009-10-02T11:12:00.000-07:00

The joke rings out of a Saturday Night Live skit from April of 2000, bringing a smile to those who cannot now escape the sight of Will Farrell in a crazy wig, clanking a cowbell in the ear of an apparently oblivious guitarist. People who’ve never seen the skit or wouldn’t catch a SNL reference if it were lobbed at them underhand respond with incredulity when a group of “insiders” bandy about the saying, “More cowbell. I’ve got a fever, and the only prescription is MORE COWBELL.” “What in the world are they talking about?” they might mutter to themselves.

Perhaps some around Regent have found themselves muttering about a different phrase, an insider’s slogan; that may seem equally foreign, equally obtuse. “Becoming Community.” What does it mean? Who is it for? Is this a socialist plot?” some may have asked.

As one who was there when the term was coined, I feel obligated and perhaps compelled to explain this insider’s phrase, and to make sense of its meaning and intent. Because I too have a fever. And it’s for More Community.

The phrase “Becoming Community” originated in a Student Services brainstorming meeting, whose intent was to set a theme for the year that would capture our sense of what God was up to on our campus, and would name our hopes for the academic year 2009-2010. Becoming Community was unanimously selected as our theme, and has since filtered out, like any good inside joke, to others, both in the faculty, staff and student body.

To be fair, not everyone gets it. “What community?” Who gets to decide? It sounds too soft and gooey to get my arms around.” Individuals point out that community requires trust, a scarce substance in many places. It requires socializing and eating together, something made difficult in Regent’s online environment. In our culture of advertising hype, it sounds like yet another empty cliché, designed to pad recruiting or retention statistics. But still, I have a fever.

I’m not sure whom to blame for my malady. I desperately, with all my being, want to be part of a living, thriving, healthy community. I want to work in a place where I know the people around me, and in turn am known. I want to invest myself in others and celebrate their accomplishments, and in turn be celebrated. My heart hopes for a place where I trust those above and below me to work side by side for a mission greater than all of us. But I need more cowbell…or I should say, I need more community at Regent.

I’d like to see more students meeting together in the Commons, studying the Bible and sharing what a verse means to them, rather than staying up till midnight—door closed to others- to turn in an online post for a class. I want to see more faculty and staff in the Ordinary, pouring themselves into mentoring relationships that cross generational and denominational boundaries. I long to see a weekly chapel packed with students, staff and faculty laying aside cherished worship preferences in order to express their common faith in Jesus Christ, united with students around the country and the world though online access.

The Apostle Paul had it when he spoke to a deeply divided body of believers, 10I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. I hear the passion in his voice as the great pastor and educator pleaded with individuals and groups to get along, to work together, to be united in mind and thought. Would he ask for less from a Christian institution founded for God’s glory, whose very seal includes a ribbon symbolizing the unity we proclaim to a watching world. Shouldn’t we all have this fever?

And Guess What? I think I hear the distinctive ring of community’s beat. This year Residence Life professionals along with Student Services staff were joined by area churches on a true Freshman Move-in day. Music played, brightly colored signs welcomed new students. Blaze orange “Volunteer” shirts on Vice Presidents and “2 L’s” melted diversity of rank into unity of purpose. I was there in the room when Katie first met Lauren, their mothers smiled and cooed as they envisioned their girls in each others’ weddings years hence.

I watched as students organized a new evening chapel and were joined by dozens of their peers from every graduate school as well as the large contingent from undergrad. I’ve seen Students involved in Free Enterprise (SIFE) unite Operation Blessing, CBN and Regent through their service initiative to Can Hunger. (honored by Campbell’s Soup with a “seed money” grant.) I was witnessing the fever spreading…not an epidemic, to be sure, but the story getting out, the flame spreading. More “outsiders” getting in on the joke.

To this ear, it’s the familiar ring of a favorite song. One that brought seven professors and seventy students together to pray and to worship and to seek God’s face united in a community for His glory. And when an undergraduate student shared with me that upon his mother’s death, students, staff and faculty rallied around him, his flight home was paid out of the Regent Student Emergency fund, and he received a personal call from the President and Chancellor Dr. Pat Robertson, I knew what we needed more of…more Community. More cowbell. So I’m wondering, do you have the fever?

May the Farce be with you...

2009-09-23T17:48:00.000-07:00

Libyan leader Moammar Gaddafi denounced the UN as ineffective. He threw the UN charter over his shoulder in disgust, something that would warm the heart of even the grimmest conservative. Further, he propounded exotic conspiracy stories, and called for a fresh investigation of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. He complained about New York. He even stayed at Donald Trump's place... Just when one thought that he had identified himself as the ultimate right wing conservative, he did an about face.

Gaddafi tried out liberalism's tenets... he embraced racial progress in America ""Now the black man doesn't have to sit in the back of the bus," He praised the new Obama administration. The self-proclaimed "King of Kings" (modest, we are not) labeled Barack Obama as "my son." He eschewed military power (not his own of course). Is he a liberal?

But Mo-bi One showed he was unlike any other. He wore a copper and black ensemble (prompting a future appearance on "What not to wear--Dictator week?") in which no Ivy Leaguer would be caught dead. He drew protests from victims of Pan Am flight 103, who named him "Murder of the Year." He complained in one breath about the veto of the Security Council, and in the next about jet lag. He offered to house the UN in the Libyan desert, to spare the US the expense. He pretty much just RAMBLED for over 100 minutes...in a speech designed to last barely thirty. Mo was out in FARCE sporting a haircut that Laurel and Hardy would be proud of...

Mo-bi one...may the FARCE be with you.

Watch this video if you need a good laugh!

Admiral Clark is Landing!

2009-09-15T05:55:00.000-07:00

Each time I hear from our distinguished professor from the Robertson School of Government, Admiral Vern Clark, (Ret.) I gain a fresh appreciation of his singular gifts. The depth of insight, the breadth of experience, the stark challenge of leadership brings me to the edge of my seat every time! Join us online or in person to hear Admiral Clark elucidate the leadership challenges of becoming community at a religiously diverse institution, such as Regent University.

For an added bonus, hear the exciting mission of Students Involved in Free Enterprise (SIFE) and their "Can Hunger" drive. If you are attending in person, be our guest for a free lunch following chapel, provided by our friends from SIFE.

Be blessed today!

Getting my Fill of Dentists...

2009-09-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

I'm guessing that I'm not alone in getting a little nervous about dentist visits! Don't get me wrong, I have the best dentist in the world (I only go to see him once every two years, after all!) How bad can he be? [Jerry or Cindy, if you're reading this, don't take it personally]

So what is it about the dentist that touches a nerve in me? (other than he is one of the few people in my life who could literally touch a nerve in me) After all, Jesus himself included dental pain as one description of hell, "Where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth..." (Mt. 13:42) For me it's a couple of things. First, when I was growing up I had terribly crooked teeth. Apparently the Kidd gene included coding for being slow, preferring bananna pudding, and having the same bite pattern as a saber-tooth tiger. So I had four "canine incisors" pulled when I was an impressionable 12-year old. I can still feel that needle and the novacaine going into my gums, all the while the dentist telling me it wouldn't hurt a bit. I wanted to jab him in the knee with a sharp implement.

Second, I really didn't feel like I needed the dentist thing. After all the mess of braces (and yes, I lost my retainer in Jr. High and had to dig through the trash...it was a rite of passage!) I made it through my childhood and entire adult life without a cavity. Of course, being the proud human being that I am, I took my strong enamel as a commentary on my moral superiority. Who needs a dentist? All they do is get me down in the mouth.

During my last visit to the dentist, they warned me that one spot on a tooth looked weak, and put it on a "Watch list." (Sort of like North Korea?) But that didn't slow me down. Sure of my superior dention, I ignored the warning for two full years. But two weeks ago my fantasy of dental perfection was shattered. "Dr. J" let me know that decay had penetrated the outer wall of enamel in one tooth, and he was going to have to repair it. That's where I'm headed today... to have a hole in my head filled. I'm dreading it...

So it made me wonder, what other warnings are we ignoring? What other weak spots in my life have I received notice on, but haven't done anything other than schedule a visit to de-nial? Going to the dentist, of course, is a good thing. It is part of being a well person, to respond to the inevitable problems that plaque and Double stuff Oreo's bring my way. Today, I'm going to get my fill of dentists. What weak areas need filling in your life?

Never Forget!

2009-09-13T04:34:00.000-07:00

Picture I snapped at Ground Zero

I suppose I may be a day late and a dollar short, but then reflection and thought takes time. I have been thinking about 9-11 after the remembrances and celebrations of the last few days. In a strange twist of fate, a Virginia Beach native like me ended up right in the middle of the recovery efforts in New York City. Through the efforts of my church to assist Operation Blessing International in their relief, I traveled to NYC and in response, started an organization to mobilize resources in this area to assist. It was called the First Fruits Crisis Response Team.

What we found in NYC amazed me. People from all over the country just showed up, without plan and without thought to their own needs, in order to help a city in pain. I formed life-long bonds with folks in Operation Blessing, especially Jim Esposito. My friend Jim was here in Virginia Beach this weekend, and seeing him reminded me of the amazing camaraderie that existed among the relief workers those first few days after the towers came down.

The Operation Blessing Gang (Jim in blue shirt)

In that spirit, a friend posted the following comment on my Facebook page on 9-11...

Kimberley Jenkins

You are right. We will never forget the day. However, I wonder how we are to remember the community that was shared at that time, to me it seems to have been forgotten. My point: are we only to be in community doing tragedies or is it to be our way of life.

It is of course a great question. In those first moments, we were all New Yorkers. In those first moments, the area around Ground Zero became a sanctuary to the fallen, and complete strangers grew silent to approach the hallowed ground. The world community gathered behind the United States, in testimony to the audacious, undeserved attack. What happened to that sense of solidarity?

First, danger always focuses us on the crucial, critical issues of life. It is abundance and comfort that enables our indulgence in individualism. In crisis we realize anew that we desperately need each other, and discover that which unites us is greater than that which divides us. I remember one man, Antonio Nino Vendome, opened up his restaurant as a relief center for any uniformed personnel. It stayed open 24 hours a day. Seeing the dizzying spectrum of law enforcement patches from all over the country burned into my mind then that boundaries could be crossed for the greater good of the community. (Law enforcement groups are notoriously territorial) I pray we could experience that again.

What do you think? Are crises the only things big enough to remind us of our common needs as humans, our common cause as Americans? I pray not...

Meeting Joel Rosenberg Tomorrow

2009-09-09T19:18:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'm meeting Joel Rosen

berg.

According to his weblog,

Joel C. Rosenberg is the founder of The Joshua Fund (www.joshuafund.net) and the New York Times best-selling author of The Last Jihad (2002), The Last Days(2003), The Ezekiel Option (2005), The Copper Scroll (2006), Epicenter (200

6) and Dead Heat (this year) with more than 1.5 million copies in print. The Ezekiel Option was named by the ECPA as the Gold Medallion winner of the “Best Novel of 2006.” Joel — whose mother is Gentile and whose father is from a Jewish background –previously worked with several U.S. and Israeli leaders, including Steve Forbes, former Israeli Deputy Prime Minister Natan Sharansky, and former Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

I got hooked on Joel through his best-selling fiction, starting with The Last Jihad. By way of confession, I don't read Christian fiction (I like good fiction and think that Christians should just

write good fiction, instead of pandering to a niche market...but I guess nobody asked). I exclude on principle folks like Ted Dekker and C.S. Lewis, who in my opinion, write good fiction that happens to include Christian themes. But I digress.

Joel will be on the 700 Club tomorrow, then over to the Regent side of the house to spend time with students, share with the Law/Government schools during chapel, then off to the airport. (I think he has an interview on the West Coast in the evening!) I particularly love his crisp, snappy style of narrating enormously plausible global intrigue. It makes me feel like all those years in

history and political science classes weren't wasted!

So as I get to meet one of my heroes, I'm wondering if you have any questions for him? He's an expert on Middle East Politics. His latest work Inside The Revolution documentary film on DVD is now in documentary form. He is an amazing writer, and active on his blog.

Any questions you may have...shoot 'em my way, and I'll ask them!

Peace y'all.

The Birthrights of Community

2009-09-01T12:32:00.000-07:00

Every time I hear this guy (Dr. Carlos Campo) speak, I think "Man, he's awesome!" He's intense, he's scholarly, he's funny, he's erudite! Why wouldn't you want to come hear him? Ok, so if you're an online student, you can log into the Campus Ministries My Regent portal and hear him online. Any other excuses?

Good! We'll see you tomorrow for University Chapel at noon in the Moot Courtroom . Be there, or be elsewhere.

Are you a Body Builder?

2009-08-25T12:31:00.001-07:00

We're back to school and back to worshipping God together! Join fellow staff, students and faculty for University Chapel, Wed. Aug. 26, at noon in the Moot Courtroom. We'll kick off our year-long series on "Becoming Community." Are you a Bodybuilder? We're all building a body of some sort, one decision, one donut at a time. What kind of body are you building?

We'll see you there! (Streamed online for those who can't make it in person... go to Regent's My Web Portal, click on the Campus Ministries tab).

Last Summer Chapel!

2009-08-18T13:41:00.000-07:00

I met Roger over 10 years ago playing golf with a mutual friend. He struck me as a nice guy (my first impression was correct!) and a pretty good golfer! What I have discovered since then, however, is that he is an amazing friend, pastor, encourager, and an even better basketball player than golfer! I am so excited that my brother and friend will be sharing in University Chapel tomorrow, Aug. 19 at noon in the Library Auditorium.

Rev. Cheeks (or Bishop T.D. Cheeks, as I like to call him) will be sharing on the theme "Transformers--more than meets the Eye." Not only can my son sing a song with those same words, I am vitally interested in the topic of transformation. Real change is really rare. But from what I've seen in my friend Roger's life, he is a life-tested authority in this issue. He's lived, loved and changed with the Lord's help, and I am looking forward to hearing from him on this subject.

How about you--are you being transformed?

Don't Miss this Lady!

2009-08-04T08:01:00.000-07:00

Hear why we should "go the extra mile" in serving others from someone who knows what it takes!

What is Poetry?

2009-07-28T10:48:00.000-07:00

Recently, Sarah Palin resigned from the governor's seat in Alaska. She delivered a speech that garnered mixed responses. But her exact text was delivered in a different setting, to an entirely different end.

Watch that link here... Palin's text

So the question is... what is poetry? Is it the words, or is it the delivery, or is it both?

I think about the beautiful poetry of the truth, and how often I marr it almost beyond recognition in my own telling. Is it poetry just because it's true? Or do I have a responsibility to handle the words well, to draw attention to the truth in deft, artistic moves?

What do you think?

Hey this is my Man!

2009-07-21T13:45:00.001-07:00

Marc Santom IS the man. He's speaking in University Chapel tomorrow and I for one will be there. Of course I 'm paid to do that, so I suppose that is not a very remarkable thought. Nevertheless, even if I wasn't paid to do that, I would do that. He is a great, engaging speaker, and he has life experience that adds depth to his presentation.

So check it out tomorrow! Noon in the Library Auditorium.

Rock on Marcus!

Oops. One Giant Misstep for Mankind

2009-07-17T08:34:00.001-07:00

"We searched for the tapes everywhere," NASA engineer Richard Nafzger said in an interview with the Associated Press. Don't you feel for the poor schlemiel who erased, not the first steps of little Johnny across the living room, but the historic first steps of Neil Armstrong on the moon?

But of course we've all done that, at some point. In the old days, all it took was opening the back of the camera at an inopportune time. (those of you with an all-digital memory, please find some older person and ask them to reminisce about the small square do-hickey with four little bulbs called a 'flash.') All it takes now is one mishandled download, and four hundred precious pics from Hannah's Chuckee Cheese party are gone in a flash. What's a guy to do?

Turn to the magic of Hollywood, of course. For a mere $230,000 the same geniuses that restored Star Wars intergalactic luster have restored the footage of the moonwalk. Where were they when I needed them?

But it made me think...why is it I always forget the important stuff, but fill my memory with inconsequential clutter? How exactly would Richard Nafzger feel if the world discovered he had taped over the moon landing to make room for some quality Hee Haw episodes?

But in effect, that's what I do. I cram my digital databank with memories of slights from days gone by, people who have wounded me, intentionally or not. I recall missed opportunities with continued pain, beat myself up with failures and mistakes. In short, I remember all the snapshots of pain and shame with crystal clear precision.

But what about the really important stuff? Times I served others? Times God stepped in with complete grace and saved the day? Family and friends and the thousand precious moments that should last forever in my memory, but don't. Those are the things I should remember. How about you, what should you be remembering? How about a few things you need to forget?

A "Precious Moment" from Easter 2004

Church Without Shame?

2009-07-14T11:47:00.001-07:00

Paula White Returns to Church Without Walls

Help me understand why this isn't a crassly economic move to stave off bankruptcy at the church and foreclosure on the property? I mean, that in itself is not a bad goal, but to dress it up like this is to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.

Am I missing something here? I know she's popular. I know she's a better speaker than him. (Sorry Randy) But someone doesn't think that this is just a bit awkward? I have seen divorced couples try to stay in the same church; usually they pick different services or steer clear of each other. But where does he go--she's preaching all the services? Will she lead the divorce recovery group, or teach it?

Reformed Resurgence

2009-07-13T13:32:00.000-07:00

My friend Sean shot me this through Facebook, and I really liked it. Check it out and see if it connects to your experience.

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=126672763974&h=KgcQE&u=ijel-&ref=nf

One of my problems is that I have a hard time putting myself into a category. Most categories seem a bit of a procrustean bed, lopping off the extremes of most of my positions. Maybe one day I'll grow up and fit in one camp or another, but for now I have to sample a bit here, and a bit there. Kind of like Golden Corral for theology, but less grease.

Richard

Love is the Ultimate Luxury

2009-07-10T07:54:00.001-07:00

My last stay in New York City laid me in the lap of luxury. The “W” Hotel on Times Square exuded sleek, modern elegance. Their signature service is to orchestrate every design detail to convey comfort, style, and class. But there is another New York. My most recent visit has reminded me that the city has another face, not so coiffed, not so elegant.

My hosts this trip were the amazing folks at the New York School of Urban Ministry or NYSUM for short. For twenty-five years the Rev. Peter DeArruda, his wife Darleene, and their magnificent staff have been serving the “other” New York, the gritty world of the streets. Their signature service is a late night “room service” visit to New York’s homeless. The delivery? A care package of personal hygiene goods, and a late night snack. Then, with the help of volunteer groups from around the country, they serenade their “guests” with live music and love.

While for this stay I did not have 200-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, I met a staff who has given out thousands of free blankets to the homeless. I could not order fresh squeezed wheat grass shots for breakfast, but I could receive a generous helping of love and a bagged lunch to take me out into the community to help AIDS patients, or sing for cerebral palsy sufferers.
So I didn’t have fresh flowers at check-in, but I did have a wakeup call. According to the NY Coalition for the Homeless, there are 9,538 homeless currently in shelters in the city. That’s an increase of more than 5,000 people since 2002. In Hampton Roads terms, that’s a whole aircraft carrier full of people who don’t have a home beyond the streets.

This Spring Break (2010) students from Regent University will come with me to visit this other New York. And when they check in at the bare bunks and sparse halls of NYSUM, I know that they will have a chance to serve those in need. They will discover, as I have, that love may be the ultimate luxury.

Summer Chapel, July 8

2009-07-07T12:01:00.001-07:00

What, Me Worry?

2009-07-07T08:36:00.001-07:00

The ushers were in place. The crowd had been lining up for over an hour. The “green room” backstage of the Performing Arts Center at Regent was set with a small banquet of goodies for the band. All the details for Jars of Clay were prepared…leaving me only one task to complete; worry.

Oh, I know. I’m not supposed to worry. I worry about that too. If I’m worrying, then at least I feel like I’m doing my part! I worried that Jars of Clay would talk more than they would play (unfounded, as it turned out.) I worried that I would blow my lines as I asked the band questions from students. Most of all, I worried that the guys in the band would walk in, see forty people assembled for chapel, and decide that I was a loser, and that coming to Regent was a mistake.

Do you ever create doomsday scenarios in your head? I do. My stomach can get wrapped in knots that even sailors and Boy Scouts wouldn’t recognize. There I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for the triple-Grammy award winning band to come on stage—suddenly awarding them the status of judge of my own worth and value. But as I watched these “stars” take the stage, to the applause of 800+ folks, I had a rare moment of insight. “Jars of Clay” was a message for me. Not the band, but the name.

“We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us,” said the man once known as Saul of Tarsus. If ever there was a Type-A, high-powered individual who sweated every detail, it was he. But in a blinding moment of insight, he saw all of his own gifts and talents, his accomplishments as nothing, in light of God and His power. These four normal guys, Dan, Steve, Charlie and Matt, chose this name “Jars of Clay” to remind themselves to focus on the pure liquid of God’s message. These guys proved to be so normal, so unassuming, so unworried that it spoke to me.

My worth isn’t based on my performance. If there were a few cracks in my jar, then the focus could be all the more on the pure liquid treasure of God’s wonderful message. I leaned back, smiled and enjoyed the chapel, thankful that it was God’s surpassing power at work and not my own meager gifts. But now I have to plan my next chapel….

Who is Grace?

2009-06-16T19:08:00.000-07:00

Rachel is my only daughter. I love her passionately; beyond reason. But there are times when she is monstrously disobedient. One time, our family visited Disney World. I told Rachel to keep her little stuffed rabbit in the stroller. "Honey, you love your little rabbit, you would hate for her to get lost. So leave her in the stroller."

But do you think a 4 year old is going to listen to her daddy on a subject like that? No. So after touring all of Tomorrowland, and Frontierland together as a family, Rachel discovers that her rabbit has come up missing. Shrieks and wails ensued; travesty and calumny issued forth from my daughter. I patiently explain the laws of cause and effect. I demonstrate that this is the natural and logical consequence of disobedience. More shrieks, wailing, gnashing of teeth and bitter tears. I look at the mother; her eyes are telling me logic is not working.

So I, the father, go on an illogical, irrational, all-out search for the lost bunny. I searched on the Goofy Roller coaster. I search by the juice stand, and in the gazebo where we took a picture with Pluto. I turned Disney World upside down to find Rachel’s rabbit. Until I FINALLY I found that rascal rabbit, tucked behind the sewing machine in Minnie's House, and I apprehended her and brought her back to where she belonged.

I gave the rabbit back to Rachel, this rabbit who had been lost but now was found, who had been dead, but now was alive. And I said, “Rachel, do you know why Daddy did what he did? It was because of the name of your rabbit. What’s your rabbit’s name Rachel?

Through the tears she said it, “Daddy her name is Grace.” That’s right Rachel. Her name is Grace. Daddy told you not to leave her, daddy told you the right thing to do but you disobeyed. But Rachel, grace is getting what you don’t deserve. Grace is unmerited favor. Rachel, never forget, your daddy loves you, and when you least deserve it, you will receive grace.”

So who is Grace? Grace is more than a rabbit, grace is a father. Grace is a Father who because of His illogical, boundless love for all His children patiently gives instructions for our safety. And when we ignore them, and we all do, He embarks on an illogical, irrational search for us in the midst of our poor choices. I am so glad Grace is a person, because I spend more time lost than I have any right to...but each time, I get not what I deserve, but instead I get the gift. The gift of grace. Man I love that rascally rabbit.

God Reads All Tweets

2009-06-11T06:02:00.000-07:00

I read an article yesterday from Relevant magazine that slammed Facebook, Twitter, and MySpace and other social networking sites because they are inherently narcissistic. That is, they invite people to blather on about meaningless details in their lives only a mother could consider important. And I have to admit as I read the ubiquitous "25 Things About me and my toenails" or "How well do you really know John Doe? on Facebook, I question the ultimate micro-niche audience that must exist for these stories.

But then I wondered, what makes us want to tell all these details to random strangers, or at least to a gaggle of folk who haven't been close to us since elementary school? Is it really narcissism, or is it something different? I think (to make a gross generalization) people want intimacy. They want to be known. They have a legitimate desire for others to know them through the mundane details of their lives. We all have a hunch that we should matter, and that isn't narcissism.

To be fair, our celebrity culture, with it's paparazzi-driven obsession over the details of famous people's lives invites self-worship. We all want to be famous, even if it is for fifteen minutes (or 140 characters) of fame. But social networking sites turn that trend on it's ear, making celebrities their own journalists. Twitter puts the power back into the hands of celebrities themselves, giving them the power to release what details they desire. It's authentic self-disclosure, rather than a breathless "scoop."

So how did we develop this hunch of importance? If we are but an accident of randomly arranged atoms, self-importance is the ultimate hoax. But if we're more than that, if someone or something made us, and cares about us, then it makes complete sense. One metaphor in Scripture for God is that of Father. I'm a dad, so I know a bit about that experience. Good dad's watch over their kids. We are familiar with the constant refrain, "Look dad!" No detail of my childrens' day is too miniscule for my attention. They're my kids, so I care.

God has that kind of watch care over us. He is a Father who cares about every detail of our lives, no matter how mundane.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

(Matthew 10:29-31)

I find it interesting that the logo page for Twitter includes a small sparrow, presumably Tweeting away in his tree. The truth of the Scripture is that God listens to all her tweets, and cares for each sparrow's fall. That's encouraging to me, because it means my hunch of importance is confirmed in a Father who listens and is always interested and who always cares.

What I'm trying to say is, God reads all Tweets. Thank goodness, because I don't.

“It’s never too late to turn to God, Mr. Bauer.”

2009-05-19T06:31:00.000-07:00

Do a Google search on Jack Bauer, and most of the images returned feature Jack holding a gun. Or Jack surrounded by an exploding fireball. Or perhaps most emblematic, a "Jack Bauer" action figure kicking down a door. Like Captain Kirk from a generation before, Jack is our vicarious stand-in for life's great dilemnas... should I/we follow the rules or save the busload of children (save the kids). Should we torture a man to extract a truth that may save the lives of countless thousands? (yes, with relish) Should one choose close family relations or national security? (national security over family security almost every time) Action Jack has busted through the doors of dozens of dilemnas over seven seasons, but now he faces his greatest dilemna yet... He's dying.

Jack's seizures, random twitches and grimaces have surfaced more often than uber-nerd Chloe's signature pout and squint. We're reminded how weak and powerless Jack is, even as he shoots his former friend and current traitor Tony before he can exact personal revenge. Our can-do post-modern MacGyver is reduced to reliance on his daughter to save his life. And then, just before he is placed in a morphine-induced coma, (say it ain't so Jack!) he calls for a single, solitary figure. An Imam--a Muslim holy man.

Not to ruin the plot for those of you (non-Hulu) folks who haven't watched the last few episodes, but some shadowy arch-conservative pseudo-patriots (let the reader understand they mean Blackwater aka Xe) have manipulated good, peace-loving Muslims into being the facade for a biological attack on Washington D.C. At first, Action Jack falls for this ruse, almost pulling out all his Guantanamo-esque skills of interrogation on the hapless Imam. But in a blinding flash of insight, our hero realizes that both the Muslims in question AND the Imam were innocent men, and that once again, he had been on the brink of doing something heinous. (torturing an innocent man--you'd think he'd have gotten used to it by now). Foreshadowing Jack's call for the Imam on his "deathbed" the Muslim holy man tells the man with the tortured conscience "“It’s never too late to turn to God, Mr. Bauer.”

Now let me get down to my thoughts. I certainly don't want to get into the debate about whether all Muslims are heaven-bent to take us poor infidels into the great beyond. Surely such over-generalizations belong to those who need life cut into convenient, cookie-cutter categories. Nor am I going to shout and scream that Christians are getting a poor shake because Jack called out for a mullah instead of a reverend. Frankly, a man with as much violence in his past as Action Jack is doing well to talk to anyone of a spiritual ilk. Nor am I offended at the writers' evident attempt to patch up hard feelings in the Muslim community for casting them as evil nasties in previous seasons. None of that bothers me; after all this is entertainment.

What concerns me, however, is that the TV Imam gives rather un-Muslim advice. And for that matter, the advice doesn't fit into Christianity's script either. The holy-man character repeats his previous statement to Jack, "I hope that you can forgive yourself.” Hello--when did Oprah become a guest on my kick-down the door, blow up the helicopter, shoot your former friend in the shoulder action show? But that's where this psycho babble advice comes from. No Muslim or Christian or Jew in their right theology would tell someone that the key issue to settle before you die is to forgive yourself.

I'm not saying that forgiving yourself isn't important. I've made some God-awful, searing mistakes that still wake me up some nights in chilling, sweating regret. Is it hard work to not beat myself up for all those past mistakes? (Even though I wouldn't count torture, murder or growing an ugly beard and hiding in Africa in my mea culpas) You bet. But before I die and face my maker, I think that it would be slightly more important to consider the ways that I have failed Him, sinned against Him and His design in my life and seek His forgiveness. A great king who blew it said it this way, "Against Thee and Thee only have I sinned..."

It's not my place to tell you that you must choose the Christian answer above the Muslim answer or the Buddhist answer, or the St. Oprah answer, for that matter. That's up to you. I'm merely clarifying according to the Bible, when life comes down to mono y Deo, just you and the Divine, the issue is worship failure. A life that fell short of it's divine intent. I reflect on God's purpose for my life, one He characterizes as "glorious" and realize with grim certainty that I have often fallen far short of it... Sure I need to forgive myself. But more importantly, I need to ask God's forgiveness. I was made for Him, and I lived for myself instead. The ultimate answer isn't more SELF, it's more G-d. After all, it's never too late to turn to God, Mr. Bauer.

This was not my mother, but it made me think

2009-05-01T12:46:00.000-07:00

I received an email from a friend today that touched me deeply. As Mother's Day approaches, it made me reflect on my own close relationship with my mother. More than that, it helped clarify what is important in life. Please read this, but don't email me to say your sorry my mother died! It wasn't my mom, but it did touch my heart. Read this from my friend Dave....

This morning my mom died.
She was diagnosed with cancer 7 ½ years ago, and was given about two years to live, five on the outside. She wept when she heard because of the sadness about not being able to watch her beloved grandchildren grow up.But from the day she first heard the news she wasn’t afraid of death. She was always very grateful for her life, and maybe more importantly, she felt like God had given her a mission that she had completed faithfully. So was time for her to pass the baton for the next generation, and go home to be with God.

All that suddenly changed when my sister-in-law was also diagnosed with terminal cancer. My mom’s own mother had died of cancer when she was young, which had always been the primary heartbreak of my mother’s life. She received that has a call to “come out of retirement” so that she could shepherd my brother and sister-in-law’s three very young children through that tragic experience.That may not seem like a particularly heroic decision, but it’s one of the most heroic and sacrificial things I’ve ever seen anyone do. Determining to stay alive as long as she could and order to care for her grandchildren meant subjecting herself to years of countless indignities and cruel medical treatments.

Daily soldiers and missionaries give up their lives to serve others, which is an awesome sacrifice. My mother made an even more awesome sacrifice, in my estimation: she made the sacrifice of choosing to remain alive, and endure excruciating pain for five more years in order to serve her grandchildren who needed her. And she bore it without complaint.
I realize that for many of you, it will come as a shock to my mother was sick, because she insisted that we never share with anyone – not even her own sister or my grandmother living next door knew. I admit that at first I didn’t agree with her desire for secrecy, but over time I came to understand. She knew that if others knew that she was so sick, that they would concentrate constantly when serving her – but she had stayed alive in order to serve others, she didn’t want to be the focus of attention. She poured enthusiasm and energy into people who had no idea that she would return home to sleep for hours in the middle of the day because it was so exhausting for her.

Since they finally learned last week about how sick my mother was, many people have commented about how difficult it must have been for my father, brothers and I to live for so long with that knowledge. And in some sense it’s true, but in another sense, nothing could be further from the truth – this time has been a tremendous gift.
As I counsel people whose loved ones have died, I frequently hear about their regret at having missed the opportunity to say so many things they wish they had been able to say. So many of the most precious things we would ever want to communicate to someone we love can seem out of place or excessively serious in the rush of daily life. So while we chatter about the minutia, we leave so many of the most important, intimate things left unsaid – assumed.
But after someone has received a diagnosis of terminal cancer, any awkwardness around saying something too serious or too personal disappears immediately – suddenly it seems like the most natural thing in the world to say exactly how you feel, express your appreciation freely. What an incomparable gift has been to live like this with my mother for the past seven years. I’m sure I’ll have many days of sadness ahead, but I don’t think I’ll have too many regrets.
David asked God in Psalm 35 “"Show me, LORD, my life's end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is”, and in the same vein, Psalm 90 records Moses’ prayer that God would “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Living with death in mind changes the way we live, and in my relationship with my mother and had the privilege of doing that.
Many people have also commented on how proud my mother must have been to have raised three sons who all attended elite universities and graduate schools, and are successful in their respective fields. She was more proud that we all are very hard workers, regardless of our level of achievement, and exercise integrity even when it hurts. But in truth my mother was much prouder still that she’d raised three boys who are faithful husbands, and devoted fathers, and that in a world of broken families, our family remained devoted to one another. Aside from the ephemeral scuffles of little boys about whose turn it is to go next, or “who started it”, I have no memory of any significant conflict among my brothers. For the past two months, my father and brothers have all spoken together at least weekly, and for the past week we’ve spoken everyday. That is what my mother would have been most proud of – and with good reason, because she is most responsible for nurturing that family environment.
My mother was vital and active until just a week before Easter. But still, when I visited with her that week, she dismissed too much talk about her condition, and wanted to share her excitement about what was going on in my life and those of my wife and children. She must have told me 50 times that day how much she loves me. She didn’t have to tell me so many times – her words and actions over decades have made that impossible to miss.
Over the past couple days her condition declined very rapidly, but I am so thankful that she never experienced any obvious pain. And she never expressed a moment of fear at any time in the past seven years – her faith is absolute, and she looks forward to being with Jesus.
This morning she took in one last quick breath, and then died quietly, and made her way to heaven. There is an ancient prayer for a “Good death” – and it is not a quick death the way some of us imagine – it is a death that one can see coming from a long way off, so that one can enter into it deliberately and participate in it fully. It is a death in which one has time to be reconciled to God and others, and make her death a gift of life to others. In every way, my mother had a very good death.

If you’ve read this far, I thank you for your interest and for allowing me to process my feelings this way. Please know that there’s no need to respond by saying that you’re sorry or that you care – I’m so thankful to live among a community of friends and a very nurturing church in which people routinely and clearly express how much they care and how supportive they are. I am thankful that we truly do share each other’s joys and sorrows, and I feel very loved.
I thank God for the gift of my mother, and pray that the way that I live reflect her values and honor her memory.

Lord- please receive my mother with joy and welcome her with your eternal embrace. Speak to her the words all Christians long to hear when we meet You face to face: “Well done, good and faithful servant! Come and share your master's happiness!” (Matthew 25)

No Offense...

2009-04-23T07:18:00.000-07:00

This incident with Miss California is all over the news and the blogosphere... At the risk of stepping into mess, I think I'm going to comment. This augments some comments I had on Facebook, so my apologies. When bubble-headed bleach blondes are vapid and inarticulate, we mock them. But when they take a substantive stand on a national issue (whatever one's view) we respond in shock and anger. Shame on us. And why would a judge ask a question with such a one-sided view of what should be the correct answer? Isn't the point to see how contestants can articulate their views under pressure? I suppose that the Miss America pageant has the right to employ as judges whomever they want, even ones that enrage the singer Fergie. But by making such a choice, aren't they politicizing the process? So why should anyone be surprised at a political answer to the question? Just because it wasn't the one they wanted shouldn't be the issue.

Different folks will take different sides of this issue, as they have the right to do. As I parse Ms. Prejean's answer however, she points to that saying "we live in a land where you can choose..." She doesn't seem to me to attack others' right to choose, only that her choice is different. What is the great threat to same-sex marriage if Miss America is against their issue? Is their political operation so fragile that her advocacy against them would throw their political fortunes into disarray? Or is just unthinkable to one side of this issue that others might have a different opinion on an issue they believe passionately about?

This is really the heart of the issue, from my point of view. I hold an opinion of same-sex marriage that is similar to Miss Prejean. Many evangelical Christians do. On this and dozens of other topics, public discussion means that I face a welter of opposition--often virulent--from folks equally convinced of their correctness. That's difficult for me, because I don't consider myself hateful. I truly want a reasonable, edifying conversation with others about important, if sometimes controversial, subjects. So I feel qualified to give some advice about discussing with those who disagree. It's hard, and requires humility. Mr. Hilton stated, "We were/are just soooo angry, hurt, frustrated by her answer." I can relate to that feeling, as many times in the public arena I have been hurt or frustrated by positions that seem diametrically opposed to my own. I despair that we can ever come to any agreement--but I press on in discussion, but with one caveat. I have to admit, I may be wrong.

Because let's be honest. Christians have argued stridently for slavery, divine right of kings, separation of the races, torture and killing of Jews, and any number of subjects that today "Bible believing" evangelicals would not support. One could even make a case from Scripture, that God is right-handed (Col. 1:15), that believers should swap spit after church services (Rom. 16:16 unless that's not a 'holy kiss') or that every Christian should sell their possessions and give the money to the poor. (Luke 12:33) My point is, sincere believers have marshalled the Bible to support positions that in time proved more "culture-bound" than divinely inspired. It leads one to humility in expressing one's point of view. This is what I see missing in Mr. Hilton's remarks--humility, an admission that from the perspective of history, his position might turn out to be more a product of very public sentiment in favor of the homosexual lifestyle than "the truth." Time will tell.

That is not to say, however, that one's religious or spiritual values should not influence one's political or social views. Far from it--how can our religious beliefs not inform our opinions on critical subjects such as marriage or family? I have friends on all sides of this spectrum, and I think it the height of arrogance to suggest that they not consult their faith background or atheist background for that matter, in order to determine their political views. Some of my friends find their religious beliefs guiding them to support monogamous same sex unions--should they be excluded from the discussion? Yet that's what is being said in this situation..."Religious beliefs have no place in politics in the Miss CA family,” said Keith Lewis. What's the point of religion if it can't shape one's worldview?

The deeper question is: how will we shape policy for our country, which by the framers' intent, should NOT establish A religion as the ultimate arbiter of truth? The answer of course, is that we are a republic. We the people have entrusted to our elected leaders the responsibility of making laws based on input from the people, and consultation with the Constitution and other foundational documents. To apply, if Perez Hilton or Mario Armando Lavandeira, or whatever he goes by, doesn't like Miss Prejean's opinion, doesn't want it to be the law of the land, then he should lobby and raise money, and write trashy blogs, or whatever he wants, and try to carry the day by his arguments for his side. The process of truth in a republic is inherently political. It's the risk we take in not entrusting the secular truth question to religious leaders, as was the case in Europe's past. Although as a religious person, I believe that absolute truth does not change, I have to admit that secular truth does change (compare the Dred Scott decision, the Roe v. Wade decision, Brown v. Board, etc.) Bottom line--if you don't like a particular view, consult your Bibles, your Koran, your Bagvad Gita, think, and politic strenuously for your point of view. But don't tell me that I don't have the right to do the same.

Let's look at a rather bizarre example to illustrate this: the so called Texas Polygamy Cult, founded by jailed polygamist leader Warren Jeffs, who took over in 2002 as prophet of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, which broke off from the Mormon church in the 1930s over the issue of polygamy. Authorities took into legal custody more than 400 children and 133 women deemed to have been harmed or in imminent danger of harm. There was no groundswell of outrage from the American public, Christian or otherwise, that these people had been unfairly treated. We all thought, "Man that's weird." Because polygamy is a marriage position held by very few folks in America. But fast forward to a different country, with a different background, and one finds a vastly different story. Jacob Zuma, a polygamist, is poised to be the next president of South Africa. And when his latest wife was asked to comment on who would be the "first lady" all she could reply was "Jesus is Lord." Apparently, in her Zulu Christian background, polygamy is supported by the Bible, where one finds patriarchs such as Abraham and Jacob, and Biblical heavyweights such as David and Solomon having multiple wives. Again, secular truth is political.

No offense to anyone, (lol) but holding views based on your religious and social upbringing is the only kind of views anyone holds. We are all a product of our background. All we can hope for in the public arena is that we each come humbly to the table, argue passionately, respect all sides, and come out with what we can to guide our country into the future. If my view is out of political vogue, that doesn't mean I will stop trying to convince others. If my view is popular, then I have even more reason to check my heart and ensure that arrogance is not blinding me to errors in my own ways. Props to Miss California for not only being beautiful, but for thoughtfully sharing her own opinion on a tough subject for us all.

To Pooch or not to Pooch?

2009-04-21T05:53:00.000-07:00

Ok, this one is a VERY serious subject. I know we've treated Easter, faith and politics and weighty subjects before. But this topic has life-altering implications. Should I buy a pooch for my family or not? And if so, is this the best time?

I know what you're thinking--what does this have to do with spiritual pilgrimage? "Everything," is my immediate response. Buying a dog requires maturity. Self-discipline. Insider knowledge on the right kinds of foods to buy and not to buy. For instance, I can't remember; can dogs eat chocolate? Isn't that poison to them? Or potatoes; I think there was some story that dogs can't eat potatoes. See, I break into a sweat thinking about all those details. I just don't know if I'm ready for this kind of responsibility.

Because the last time I had direct experience with a dog was when I was a kid. And to be honest with you, I was not so much into the responsibility part of owning a dog. Don't get me wrong, I loved good old Lappy. That was our part-collie, part-border collie, UPS truck-chasing machine of a dog growing up. I could scratch behind his ears with the best of them, but when it came to feeding him, brushing him, giving him heart worm pills (you gotta be kidding me!) I just broke out in a cold sweat and found a reason to disappear...go read a book, watch paint dry, whatever I could do to duck it. And now, as I look into my heart, I see the same immature (lazy?) attitude lurking.

So would immaturity and laziness keep me from giving my kids the time of their life? Not consciously, of course. I would name many other reasons, making mature adult sounds as I cite the lack of a fence, dog allergies, busy family schedules, evidences of my children's immaturity (hello pot, this is kettle. You're black) but I'm willing to bet it's my own immaturity that's to blame. I find it stunning that a reasonably mature adult can still have fortresses of adolescence smiling with puerile indifference deep in our hearts. I mean, I have three kids for heaven's sake, what can be so hard about this?

I guess that I need to face this childhood impulse to slackness head on. Suck it up and learn the grown up responsibilities of being a dog owner. I could use some suggestions on what breed to buy, however. And the longer you take, the longer break I have from maturity. So make your comments DETAILED and involved. The kids have convinced my wife...so I think I may be mounting Custer's Last Stand. But I did think it was brilliant that I showed them all "Me and Marley" the other day. As they were all crying, I said "That's what happens when you get a dog; he tears up things and then he goes and dies on you." I'm holding my ground for now...

What should I do? Let me know your opinion.

Holy Week Pt. 4--Good Friday?

2009-04-10T04:33:00.000-07:00

Holy week is drawing to a dramatic close. The Gospel events bunch thick with significance, and it becomes difficult to distinguish their individual details. Like Seurat's famous "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte " the details blur close up, yet from a distance the stipling of color reveals a broad panorama of redemption. First, the details...

Stations 10-14 are all inside theChurch of the Holy Sepulchre article, and the interactive floor plan of the church, for details and photos. Briefly, the last five stations are as follows:

Jesus is stripped - top of the stairs to the right outside the entrance
Jesus is nailed to the cross - upstairs just inside the entrance, at the Latin Calvary
Jesus dies on the cross - Rock of Golgotha in the Greek Orthodox Calvary
Jesus is taken down from the cross - statue of Our Lady of Sorrows next to the Latin Calvary
Jesus is laid in the tomb - in the edicule on the main floor, inside the tiny Chapel of the Holy Sepulchre

All these actions are now commemorated within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The gospels reflect this mass of activity, with nearly half of the book of Mark dedicated to Passion week, with Luke, Matthew and John close behind. Why such preoccupation with the events of the death of one solitary Palestinian day laborer?

It strikes me as particularly discordant in contemporary American culture. We rarely discuss death frankly and openly. We banish it to the margins of conversation, preferring to speak of health care (death management) plastic surgery (aging denial) or the eternal youth of celebrity. I wonder if the fear of death is behind the spate of "doctor shows" on TV; ER, Grey's Anatomy, Scrubs, even CSI, etc. Video docs become for us modern priests who dissect death, and discuss for us it's implications in sterile, safe confines of an operating room set. Yet Good Friday is all about the slow, inexorable drumbeat of death.

But before I too harshly judge my contemporaries, I remember that Jesus' friends were slow to accept his death as well. He predicts his own death three times, and was received with incredulity. Surely our predicament is not that bad. Surely death is not necessary. The teacher did not agree:

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again

Good Friday reminds me that I am not good. Good Friday reminds me that something in me must die to become all Jesus wants for me. There is an inevitability to death that I can not escape. No denial or delay can overcome the finality of my own death--and unless I come to that great day prepared, I shall have no recourse. It is the death of Jesus that prepares me for my own death. It is the resurrection of Christ that assures me of life beyond. It is the death of Christ that speaks to me of the sin that so brazenly lives in my heart today. In visiting these final stations of the cross, I hear an invitation to look honestly at the face of sin in my own heart. And admit that death is the only option, no matter how extreme.

Holy Week Pt. 3- Take Up Your Cross

2009-04-08T04:15:00.000-07:00

As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. Matthew 27:32

This doorway opens to a simple Franciscan Chapel built in 1895, and forms the fifth station of the Via Dolorosa. The Latin inscription reminds us that a cross was lain upon Simon the Cyrene, an African man. Although legend imputes upon Simon a generosity born of compassion in this act, the text of Scriptures gives no such elaboration. Rather, the soldiers of the Roman guard force him into service, as Jesus was exhausted from his scourging and trial.

In this man Simon the entire meaning of Easter’s cross comes clear. Simon happened upon the scene of Jesus’ death. Probably an African Jew in town to celebrate the Passover with a synagogue of countrymen, Simon unwittingly stumbles into the greatest drama of history. This is a biblical character I can connect with…one caught up into something so much larger than himself that he could not possibly understand it all. And yet in his ignorance, Simon the Cyrene performs the very act we as Christ followers are invited to perform voluntarily…take up our cross and follow Him.

So what does it mean to take up your cross and follow Christ? To one who has heard these words his entire life, they have a religious familiarity. But what can they possibly, practically mean? An implement of torture, an element of execution, juxtaposed in my daily, dull routine? What could Jesus possibly mean?

The Jerusalem pilgrims know that Jesus' cross was both method and means for one to follow God's plan. A Jewish intellectual, contemporary to Jesus, said of the cross " the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." There is a power in giving up a life of striving and struggling to earn God's favor, and embracing surrender to God's will. Jesus came to a religious people who could never keep the letter of their own law, and became the perfect embodiment of their hopes and dreams--the spotless Paschal lamb. That Jewish intellectual saw in the foolish story of a prophet killed in shame on an implement of torture the way out of his own shame--a fierce life of lawkeeping that drove him to religious extremism, and murder.

Grizzled soldiers placed upon Simon the Cyrene the cross of Christ. This Easter, I am asked to walk in his steps, to deny myself, and take up the cross daily. With Paul, the lawkeeping intellectual set free, I can find in the cross a release from my religious maze of rules. I can entrust myself to the one who kept every rule, and lived the spotless life of a sacrificial lamb. The one whose Father accepted His sacrificial death as substitute for a world tainted with self--he took the punishment that was meant for me. In the ancient words spoken by the prophet.

He was pierced for our transgressions,

he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,

and by his wounds we are healed.

Post- biblical tradition tells us that Simon discovered this truth for himself, and passed it on to his sons. I pause this Wednesday before Easter and pray that I might pass the mystery of the cross to my children as well.

Holy Week Pt. 2- Who's He?

2009-04-07T04:34:00.000-07:00

The first station in the traditional "Via Dolorossa" was Jesus' condemnation by Pontius Pilate. The story as shared in the Gospel of John contains several "zinger" statements that intrigue me. The first comes from the lips of Pontius--the Roman governor or prefect of the Judean province from AD 26-36. He says to Jesus, his prisoner on trial for his life:

"What is it you have done?"

It must have seemed a natural question for a man of power. "You've aroused such hatred in your enemies, admiration among your followers. What exactly have you done? Pilate was a man of the world, a man of accomplishments and influence. We find Pilate in later Jewish sources locked in political struggles with Herod Agrippa. He was a mover and a shaker, and evaluated Jesus on those same terms. "What of substance have you accomplished teacher, that I might respect you?" He seems to ask.

"My kingdom is not of this world."

Jesus' response is crucial to understanding the Easter story. "My kingdom is not of this world." My accomplishments may not appear in your papers, or register on your power and influence scale. But make no mistake, I am a king, and my accomplishments make a difference, just beyond the geographic boundaries of your political map. The Via Dolorossa goes straight through the state of "powerlessness."

Easter undoes my political calculations. I too want to be significant. I want the things I'm working on to be considered important. When men meet other men, it is not uncommon for the first greeting to be "What's your name?" The second close on its heels, "What do you do?" To be a man is to accomplish, to do things of significance. Being a ministerial type often does not seem to match up in the unspoken "man math." What do you do? "I build things," a construction worker might say. "I fly super sonic airplanes," a pilot might answer. "I say prayers and lay hands on them that they might get well," Jesus might have stated. "I lay down my life that men might find the way to God." These accomplishments land one not on the "Who's Who" list--but on the list of "Who's he?"

As one who has longed to be on the "Who's Who" list of worldly accomplishment, the Via Dolorossa winds me through the station of powerlessness. It reminds me that we who walk in the steps of Jesus may not always be respected by those in power. Easter demonstrates faith that embraces political power as its supreme validation loosens its hold on the historical Jesus. This station of the cross encourages me to give up pursuit of "Who's Who?" and endure the scorn of "Who's He?" Jesus followers have a destination and a kingdom not of this world.

Have you stopped at the station of powerlessness? Can you endure the scorn of "Who's He?" from those powerful in your life?

Holy Week Pt. 1 - The Tears of Christ

2009-04-06T04:41:00.000-07:00

Dominus Flevit

As they have for centuries, pilgrims will stop at important sites in Jerusalem during Holy Week to commemorate the steps of Jesus the week before He died. Modern pilgrims have opportunity to pause on the Mount of Olives at one of the newest shrines in the Holy City, Dominus Flevit--whose Latin meaning is "The Lord wept." On this Monday of Holy Week, I'd like to stop with them to consider what made Jesus cry.

As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it...because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you." Luke 19:41,44

Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem because He foresaw its destruction. He shed tears over the innocent children who would suffer from the stubborn decisions of their parents, who first rejected their Lord, and then rebelled against their Roman masters. Jesus wept because peace was possible, yet people rejected the possibility of peace. He gave special focus to the religious elite of the day, who were offended at the authentic worship given to Jesus. The words on the lips of the pilgrims that day sang out in fulfillment of the angels' promise at Bethlehem so many years before, "Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

Lest this become an arcane history lesson, chastising the Jews for rejecting their Messiah, I wonder, "What does this have to do with me?" First, Jesus sees all my sin from the beginning. He took the road to the cross BECAUSE He saw the roads I would take. He weeps over my continual disobedience and rebellion against my rightful ruler. I think about how often peace is possible in my relationships, in my family, yet I choose a harsh comment, or put myself first when I could serve instead. Regardless of how invisible or subtle I believe my choices to be, Jesus sees. And He weeps.

From His perch atop the Mount of Olives, Jesus sees more than my individual sin, injurious though it is. He sees that groups of people who should believe in peace, but instead sow discord and hate. His chosen people the Jews still fight over the very ground Jesus walked. And the church, God's people grafted in to become holy, we find the same spirit. Do we recognize the time of God's coming? If Jesus were to show up in one of our over-produced, slick worship services, trailed by the lepers and prostitutes that were drawn to Him, would we recognize Him?

This Holy Week, I ask, does my heart break for the things that break the heart of Jesus? As we heard the powerful presentation of Linda Smith of Shared Hope International on children forced into sexual slavery all over the world, I wonder at the sexual appetites of the West that create bondage for so many. Do we weep over the children as Jesus did?

This Monday of Holy week, I pause with the pilgrims to consider the the tears of Christ. The tear-shaped sanctuary Dominus Flevit maintained by the Franciscans gives me the opportunity. It also suggests a way forward to the possibility of peace. The Franciscans were once based in Assisi, city of their founder St. Francis. Yet in 1217, they made the decision to go out from there, to spread the joy of the gospel around the world. This Easter, let us with Franciscan fervor, look beyond the walls of our "holy huddle" to see the lost and hurting in this world and truly make a difference in their lives. I want to ask "for whom does the Savior weep" and involve myself in responding to them. It is a pilgrimage...for I find in myself too many of the things that make Jesus cry.

How about you?

Faith and Politics

2009-04-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Left wing vs. right wing, Republican vs. Democrat, partisan politics embroils us all at least once every four years, and often many times in between. I have been asked to moderate a debate between the Regent College Democrats and Regent College Republican entitled the

Faith and Politics Symposium

April 14, 1-3 PM

Regent University

So I thought, what better place to solicit questions than from my good friends online? Whether you consider yourself a Democrat or think all Democrats are donkeys; whether you are a libertarian or are so ardently Republican that you wear a Karl Rove bathrobe whenever you lounge around the house, I'm interested in your feedback.

Please post on my blog, "Tweet" me (drrichkidd) or stop by my Facebook site with your questions.

What would you like Democrats and Republicans to respond to in the area of Faith and Politics?

Where would you like to call our political parties to accountability on issues of faith, morals or values?

What priorities of the Scripture would you want party faithful to reckon with as they consider their political platform?

I can't promise I'm fair and unbiased...that's for the professional spin doctors to pretend. This doctor realizes that we all have our perspectives and pre-understandings that color even the questions that we ask. That's why I need YOUR help. What I can promise is that I will read every question and include every one I think would sharpen the debate on both sides.

Thanks in advance for your questions and your help. Blog on.

Truth without Relationship

2009-03-31T06:49:00.000-07:00

I heard Josh McDowell speak at Regent yesterday and his message struck a chord with me. http://tinyurl.com/clbczk The message was simple and straightforward...relationships matter. More specifically, a father's love of his children can transform their lives in astonishing ways. The corollary of course is true- the absence of love in a relationship can result in rebellion. Josh has long been known for this message, often stating "Rules without relationship leads to rebellion." He restates it helpfully, "Truth without relationship leads to rejection."

This relates to teaching kids responsible sexual behavior http://joshmcdowellmedia.org/FreeBooks/HowtoHelpYourChildSayNo.pdf

but I thought of it in connection with the academic endeavor. Where else do young people get such a massive injection of truth? The Christian academic context can often turn an anxious eye to the encroaching world, and in response, "dump the truck" of truth. Parents and teachers or youth leaders and college ministries can erect massive barriers of doctrine and approved behaviors only to find their students slipping under the fence to "greener grass" of wordly behavior. Is the answer better curriculum? Josh suggested that fundamentally, relationships underlie all of our behaviors, values and beliefs. If we want to see true life change in our students, we must risk personal involvement. We must love.

To be sure, today's litigious society makes personal involvement with students problematic. Appropriate boundaries should be observed. For instance, every teacher knows to observe proper physical boundaries (good touch, bad touch) but what about in cyberspace? Can or should a campus minister connect with students on Facebook or Twitter? If so, how much? Can these natural arenas of student connection be used for Christian love and encouragement? I think so--but what are appropriate limits?

To explore the thought further, I recall those teachers and pastors who made the most impact on my life were the ones who went beyond the classroom and made room for me in their lives. I think of lunches and hikes and simple family time that were the true classrooms where I studied. How does a husband respond to his wife? What does appropriate discipline look like? How does one say "no" without hurting feelings? All these lessons went beyond the classroom to personal discipleship and mentoring. I feel that I owe a huge debt to men like Bill Warrick, Dick Woodward, David Holmes, Harold "OJ" Brown, J. Rodman Williams, Joseph Umidi. They invested in me far more than truth--they dared to love me even in my immaturity and brash bravado.

So for what it's worth, I'm trying to give back. To share truth in relationship. What about you? Who invested in you? And then in turn, who are you sharing your life with that they might grow to be all God created them to be? That's what Josh was talking about, and I pray it resonates with us all.

Do the Most Good...

2009-03-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

Some circles that I hang out in are all abuzz about organizations being more "Missional." By that they mean their church or parachurch organization should be more focused on accomplishing the Great Commandment and the Great Commission in the world around them. It's a natural response to the often self-focused, inward community that the church in North America has become. Only by turning themselves outward in hospitality and engagement with the culture around them can the church hope to regain some of it's lost luster.

I had opportunity to spend time this week with some fantastic individuals who belong to a missional organization. But it's no "johnny-come-lately" upstart. It's been around since 1865. The group is familiar to many...known as the Salvation Army. The SA's website explains their genesis:

William Booth embarked upon his ministerial career in 1852, desiring to win the lost multitudes of England to Christ. He walked the streets of London to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ to the poor, the homeless, the hungry, and the destitute.

Booth abandoned the conventional concept of a church and a pulpit, instead taking his message to the people. His fervor led to disagreement with church leaders in London, who preferred traditional methods. As a result, he withdrew from the church and traveled throughout England, conducting evangelistic meetings. His wife, Catherine, could accurately be called a cofounder of The Salvation Army.

Since 1865 this group has organized itself around mission, now emodied in the US by their slogan "Doing the Most Good." Their social mission is familar to many, as first responders to disasters and providers of direct service to many of the world's poor and needy. What may be less well-known, however, is that each Salvation Army outpost functions as a local church, pastored by the local Salvation Army Officer. This local church forms the heartbeat of a vibrant network of outreach and compassionate care. In short, the Salvation Army has been a missional church for over 140 years!

After spending several days with these humble servants, I came away impressed by their dedication, their passion, and their surrender to God's will in using them as soldiers in His army. Their work around the world has impressed many, including well-known management guru Peter Drucker.

As reported in Robert Lenzner and Ashlea Ebeling, "Peter Drucker's Picks," Forbes, Aug. 11, 1997, Drucker said:Drucker calls the Salvation Army "by far the most effective organization in the U.S. No one even comes close to it in respect to clarity of mission, ability to innovate, measurable results, dedication and putting money to maximum use." Those are his principal criteria: clarity of mission, innovative ability, clear definition of results and willingness to measure performance.

Despite this amazing track record, I found Salvation Army officers discouraged (of course not universely) over the state of their "Corp" (the church portion of their work). They often found themselves out of time to properly care for their flock, and felt unprepared to do so. The churches' size seemed to average around 50, though of course some where larger. It reminded me that "missional" is not the Holy Grail...even Christendom's greatest missional organization has challenges.

So as we seek to obey the Great Commandment and the Great Commission, we might remember that leading a growing, thriving community of the King is never easy. Balance is elusive, and there are no perfect answers. Jumping on the missional bandwagon can be merely a fad...or it can be an energizing life goal for the next 140 years. For the meantime, I am grateful to have met the amazing men and women who wear the Salvation Army uniform. May their tribe increase! In their honor today, do the most good, for the sake of our commanding officer.

Are You Ready to Fail?

2009-03-17T07:35:00.000-07:00

Are you ready to fail?

Not exactly the start of a good self-help maual. Not precisely in line with the church teaching of "no negative confession." But from my experience, a pressing, prescient question that we all might ask.

Who is your favorite failure in the Bible? I'd have to say, of the many attractive options, mine is Peter. Here's a guy who's so bold that he walks on water. He asks to dive head first and immerse his whole body in Jesus' baptism of cleansing. This is a fellow who chops off ears in the name of Jesus--talk about making a bold statement! Peter was a tough talking, fast acting sailor in the Lord's Navy. But Jesus tells him point blank he's going to fail.

Luke 22: 31"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat. 32But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers." Imagine that, the Lord Jesus looking you full in the face and telling you, "You're going to blow it today bud." How would you feel? I might blush, stammer, beg for forgiveness before I even half know what I'm going to do.

But not Peter. 33But he (Peter) replied, "Lord, I am ready..."Peter was ready not to fail. He looked at his heart, his spirit, his courage, and even in the face of Jesus' warning of impending failure, he was ready NOT to fail. Such overconfident ignorance proved his undoing.Of course he did fail. (Imagine that, Jesus was right) And he wept bitterly when he recognized what he had done.

But I think we can learn just a couple things about failure from this:

1. Jesus knows even in our good times that we're going to fail him.

We don't impress him or persuade him by our righteousness to love us more. He is imminently aware of our failings, but loves us anyway.

2. Jesus prays for us in light of our future failings.

He is our great High Priest...He knows our weaknesses, and is sympathetic in every one of them. There's no need to hide our weaknesses from Jesus!

3. Jesus in His providence can redeem our failures.

Not that He wants us to fail, but Jesus already is planning to use Peter's struggles to help him strengthen his brothers.

So are you ready to fail? I don't mean planning on it, or making the mistake of the libertine who increases sin that grace may abound (Rom. 6) Rather, are you as pragmatic as Jesus, knowing that your frame is but dust, praying to Jesus that he would help turn you around before during and after any failure? Do you hide your weakness from JEsus thinking he will be more impressed with your goodness? Do you dare think that even your greatest blunders could prevent God from working in and through you, to strengthen others? Then you may be ready NOT to fail.

I ask again, are you ready to fail?

Party of One--Being a Christian Single

2009-02-26T07:48:00.003-08:00

I remember clearly the tone the waitress used when she took in my solitary self at the hostess stand at Ruby Tuesday's. "Party of One?" So dismissive. So accusatory. As if I was somehow less because I hadn't managed to attract any others onto this dinner date. At least to me it seemed that way. (Not that I was sensitive or anything!)

I was a Christian single, living in a "family values" world. A community of smiling, happy family units, sitting neatly in their pews, while Mom shushed the kids and handed them gum to keep them quiet. I didn't fit beside MY mom anymore, felt too grown up for that. But I didn't have my own family to value either. I was stuck in that awkward, in-between stage. Not quite a pimply, overly-hairy adolescent; but neither was I a real adult either.

Yesterday, I listened to my colleague Dr. Antipas Harris speak on the subject of Christian singleness. He made a powerful case that Christian singles should have their focus on the Lord "until then." That is, until the time when "the one" arrives (always thought that moment would be accompanied by angels singing and harps playing, it had been built up so much in my mind) a Christian single should be "focused on the things of the Lord." I Cor. 7:32 It sparked my memories of those single days when I thought St. Paul hopelessly pious and out of touch with my reality.

The feelings of isolation from that "awkward, in between stage" came flooding back to me. I was consumed with the frog's fear that no beautiful young woman would transform me with a kiss into her Prince Charming. Every wedding invitation that arrived in the mail was another subpoena to "solitary confinement." I'm smiling now, after fifteen years of marriage to a wonderful Princess, to remember my all-consuming fears.

I smile, not because those fears and insecurities were not real. Rather, because marriage brings its own troubles and challenges. Even the best marriage demonstrates the truth of Paul's words "a married man is concerned about—how he can please his wife..." (I Cor. 7:33) The overriding message Paul is giving in this chapter of the Bible can be found earlier...

"17Nevertheless, each one should retain the place in life that the Lord assigned to him

and to which God has called him."

We each find ourselves in a "place in life" or a segment of our journey, that has challenges, problems and difficulties. When I was a "party of one" I got certain uncomfortable stares in restaurants. But now that I am a "Party of Five" the looks I get are Death Stares when my toddler destroys a booth in record time. We all need the grace of God to deal with the place in life the Lord has assigned to us. "Marriage is no land of perfection," I would tell me frightened, single self. Don't worry about tomorrow, because today has enough worries of it's own.

And in this place in life which the Lord has assigned to me, I too wait "until then" when "The One" will come. (for whom the angels will sing the hallelujah chorus!) For as Paul reminds us, "the time is short" and our bridegroom will come for us soon. Until then, we will love with single-minded devotion, remember to care for each other in whatever stage of our journey we find ourselves, and remember, the grass is rarely greener on the other side of the fence...

Peace!

Why I am in a Group called "Young, Gifted and Black"

2009-02-03T07:37:00.000-08:00

I am the Director of Campus Ministry at Regent University. As any member of the academic community can attest, each year brings various celebrations of diversity to our campus. One is tempted to take the professional approach to each of these "days" or "months;" which is to try to give each one the same attention and honor, like distributing M&M's to a large family of kids!

I have to believe, however, that there should be more to this. I have found myself this year placed on the Hispanic Heritage Celebration team, and now the Black Heritage Month Committee. Those are impressive sounding names--great resume stuffers for the cynical post-modern academic. But I got involved in those groups out of genuine interest. so I ask myself, why am I interested? Why are these events more than an academic exercise for me?

Because the twin truths that I see in my heart are, that I AM interested. And I am white. Painfully, stereotypically caucasian. There I've said it. Just like the person who posted on my Facebook page said when the "News item" stated that I had joined the Campus Black Heritage Celebration group, "Young, Gifted and Black." "Psst, Richard, you're not black." In fact, in those categories, I am "0 for 3" So what gives?

It all goes back to MY heritage. I grew up in the American South, and as such was the product of racial stereotypes and attitudes of which I am not proud. But the truth was, I didn't even KNOW that I had these attitudes, until I made friends--mostly in college--who happened to be different races. Only when I began to talk about my experiences did the "water" around this fish suddenly become clear. I had grown up assuming that I could not trust others of another race, that I shouldn't live near them, that I could know certain things about "them" (as in, "hey did you see that one of THEM moved in our neighborhood") without even bothering to have personal experience with actual individuals. That was the most painful thing for me as my prejudices became more obvious...I had an opinion about people I had never met.

So one of my favorite Facebook stories just happened recently. I got back in touch with a childhood friend of mine, named Barrett, who is of a different race than I. I have never forgotten Barrett though we weren't especially close, because in 5th grade we ran the three-legged race on Field Day. We practiced and practiced over the weeks, learning to match speeds, shift our weight together, take every step in the race not as individuals but as one person. I have never forgotten that day, but assumed a REAL athlete like Barrett wouldn't even have a glimmer of my slim moment of athletic triumph. (We won) But to my surprise, Barrett posted on my page "Bet you don't remember the Three-legged race." He had been telling the same story for years.

I think this story is meaningful to me, not just because I am slow and white and rarely have won athletic events, but also because in my young world it was the first time I was close up with a person of another race...learning his mannerisms, understanding his strengths, coping for his weaknesses (although that was mostly me!) As I entered college, I took this image and tried to "bind" myself in friendship to others of different backgrounds, because I came to see my own shortcomings so much more clearly as we ran together.

So the reason I am in a group called "Young Gifted and Black" even though I am painfully white, old, and not so gifted, is that I need to bind myself to others in my community and run with them. Match speeds with them. See life from their vantage point. Because what I learned with Barrett is that we are in the SAME race after all.

I had the amazing fortune of speaking personally some years ago with James Meredith--the trail blazing Civil Rights pioneer who first integrated the University of Mississippi in 1962. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes and asked me, "Would you like to know the secret of race relations in America?" Well, I'm not about to turn that down, so I say, "Sure." And he pulls two pictures out of a tattered manilla folder. One was of a white woman, the other of a black man. "I'm related to both of these people," he said with a sardonic grin. And then said nothing. I pushed a little..." so what are you saying?" Finally, he gave the poor clueless white kid a break. "We're all really the same race here in America. The same race. But we won't quit fighting each other long enough to realize it."

So that's why I am young, gifted and black...we're all in the same race.

What's the big deal about church?

2009-01-19T07:24:00.000-08:00

Why do you go to

church?

For a moment, I'd like to talk to just the churched folks in my audience. I am well aware of those of you who aren't...and even though I'm a preacher type, have often felt more sympathy with you than the other brand. But for those of you who do go, assuming you are beyond the age where you are forced at gunpoint to go to church, with a combination of threats, bribes, pinches, stares, and the ubiquitous gum and candy gifts from your mother/grandmother; why in the wide, wide world of sports do you go to church?

Well-known Christian pollster George Barna claims there is a revolution going on right now in church attendance.

There is a new breed of Christ-follower in America today. These are people who are more interested in being the Church than in going to church. They are millions strong...

So with all these true believers dropping like flies, why are you still in the game? I'd like to hear from you,

whether your church background is among the grandest:

or the most pedestrian...

I'd like you to post your comments in one or two sentences:

Why I go to church?

or "What I like about my church..."

Thanks. I'll mention the best posts in University chapel on Wednesday.

Meet Mr. Weasel

2009-01-13T05:23:00.000-08:00

This is a long-tailed weasel (mustela frenata). According to the most convenient online dictionary there are two definitions:

Any of various carnivorous mammals of the genus Mustela, having a long slender body, a long tail, short legs, and brownish fur that in many species turns white in winter.
A person regarded as sneaky or treacherous.

I'm no naturalist, but perhaps the weasel gets his well-known reputation for skullduggery from his habit of stealing and eating eggs of other animals. Their name "Mustela" means 'one who carries off mice,' and the weasel is known as a fierce fighter who will attack animals many times its size, fighting ferociously. But when we say to someone "you little weasel" we are not giving out a compliment.

Which brings me to Jacob. (His story picks up in Genesis 25-35) Maybe you've heard of him by his more famous name "Israel." That's a great, godly name that means "one that prevails with God." But Jacob was his given name, something that meant "supplanter," "one who grabs by the heel." Literally, it was a reference to his birth as a twin, grabbing on to his brother's leg for a boost out of the womb. But apparently this kid lived up to his name, managing to swindle his own (older) brother out of his birthright. He disguises himself with a clever "arm wig" to fool his dad into blessing him, and with his mother's help executed to perfection his plan to steal the family "nest egg." Liar, cheat, manipulator, Weasel...That's our man Jacob.

See this is the thing I love about the Hebrew Bible. The characters there are wildly authentic. You can't make this stuff up--it feels too real. Too close for comfort, in fact, because when I watch Mr. Weasel closely, I confess I see myself. Take for instance this week. I am playing the game of LIFE with my kids, a Christmas present to the fam. My son (Lil' Weasel) has a recurring habit of cheating at games, which he sharpened to perfection through a series of bank "withdrawals" convenient "spins" of the dial that just happened to land him on "Collect $500,000" spaces. You know the drill. So in my best fatherly tones, I lectured him on the dangers and evils of cheating. Then about two thirds of the way through the game, I spin a "three" which should have landed me on a "Pay $20,000" spot, but noticing that my kids are distracted I stop at "two" which was a "Collect $200,000" spot. Isn't that convenient? I shocked myself by continuing on as if nothing had happened.

A momentary lapse? A silly child's game? I think not. I'm no naturalist, but I can spot a long-tailed weasel when I see him. I have this distressing tendency to skulk through life looking for the eggs left lying in a convenient spot, and well trained in the artifices necessary to give those eggs a new home. All my religious devotion can't mask that weasel musk. And when I read more of Jacob's story, I recognize how Mr. Weasel relates to his creator.

0 Then Jacob made a vow, saying, "If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear 21 so that I return safely to my father's house, then the LORD will be my God 22 and this stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God's house, and of all that you give me I will give you a tenth."

Jacob in the famous "Jacob's Ladder" scene realizes that the God of his father Abraham and Isaac is near him. He didn't realize it. He's a little spooked at first, but then he thinks, "Hey, maybe there's something in this for me." So he starts negotiations with Almighty God, to get him on Team Jacob. "Look, IF you will be with me, look after me, give me what I need, then I will cut you in on 10% of the action. Sign here, and here, and here." Awfully nice of Jacob to cut God in on his life.

I feel that way--immature faith, self centered deals with God for my aims, my goals, my "eggs." Mr. Weasel, signing God onto the journey as a guide and go-to guy. Immature faith, better than nothing, I suppose. But in need of growth for sure.

How does your faith grow? Do you find yourself making deals with God? Cheating children? (ok, that's probably just me) Are you in touch with your inner weasel?

Look before you Leap! in 2009

2009-01-05T06:40:00.000-08:00

Blink. Everybody is always complaining about a lack of time, but they never do anything about it! Finally, someone did something. Did you miss it? That's right, you news buffs know that the U.S. Naval Observatory, keeper of the Pentagon's master clock, added an extra second last Wednesday in coordination with the world's atomic clocks at 23 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds Coordinated Universal Time, or UTC. It is a phenomenon known as "The Leap Second."

If you blinked, you may have missed it. But have no fear--I have an idea for you to start 2009 on the right foot. You can redeem your Leap Second using a very simple exercise. Ready?

How to Redeem your Leap Second

1. Think about an area in your life that you KNOW needs work in 2009. If you are having trouble thinking of a topic, ask your wife, or your roommate. (If you both are having trouble, pinch yourself, you may still be hung over from New Year's)

2. Think about the last time you felt good about that problem area. If it is weight, when did you last feel good about your progress? If devotions, when was the last time you were on track? If it is chain saw juggling, when was the last time you can remember having all your limbs? You get the picture.

3. Determine WHAT you were doing at that time that made you feel like you were making progress. Were you keeping a certain schedule that helped? Did you sit in a certain chair to pray? Did you start eating a certain food, avoiding a certain person, etc.? There was something that made you feel that you were on the right track before.

4. Use your "LEAP SECOND" at the best time for you TODAY to perform that "on track" excercise. That way you can "LEAP" back on track to success in 2009.

Good luck, and let me know what you used your second for...

Way of the Manger

2008-12-23T07:42:00.000-08:00

If ever there were a holiday that needed deconstructing, it is Christmas. I say this as one who celebrates Christmas as an observant Protestant Christian. And I don't mean that we should seek "the real meaning of Christmas" by eschewing the "consumer mentality" of Christmas. That's a given, and economic events have a way of giving correction to our excesses. (this year consumer spending is down for the first time in years...and it had nothing to do with pastor's making people feel guilty) Christians since the time of the Puritans have decried the various traditions of Christmas as "pagan" and improper. That's not what I'm saying at all.

American Christmas is a gloriously syncretistic affair. I realized this as I tried to explain Kwanzaa to my 10 year old. She had sung the requisite Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and Christmas songs at her concert. (For some reason the Kwanzaa song was painfully dreadful, no offense to the holiday. It seems to attract well-meaning white people who sing words in Swahili badly...listen to this for an example. Where is Isaac Hayes when you need him?) In any case, I found myself saying "well honey, Kwanzaa was kind of invented holiday, it is really a synthetic celebration, not properly belonging to one religious tradition. Then I realized that Christmas was exactly the same. Synthetic. like my Christmas tree. Like plastic poinsettias. Put together from so many different cultures, it's hard to find the core truth.

Christmas traditions have gotten so confused that secular folks protest the public display of Christmas trees because it is an imposition of religion. They argue for a name change to "holiday tree." This strikes me as summarily silly, akin to protesting to the eating of French Fries because it is anti-patriotic and Francophile. Sometimes cultures just chew up and digest practices from other countries and cultures and assimilate them into the body politic in a way unrelated to the original practice. Like pizza, or Chinese food (even Ricky Bobby thought Americans invented them) have morphed into their own uniquely American identity.

So I'd like to make my own contribution to the confusion. I'd like to nominate a new image as the iconic, neo-Rockwellian personification of the holiday.

The stone manger.

This may be a slightly more realistic version of little Jesus' first crib. And if "little Lord Jesus No crying He makes" were actually true in a rough hewn bed like this, then I have a Senate seat in Illinois that I'd like to sell you. So why is a baby crying in a stone feeding trough good news, worth celebrating these many years later?

8And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. 11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

The manger was a sign. It was a sign to some poor working stiffs who pulled the night shift, possibly in the spring (not necessarily December 25--probably another cultural accretion from the Roman's winter solistice...). The last thing they were thinking about was spiritual reality...they were just trying to get some dumb sheep to follow them. (in other words, they were in management) Suddenly, the sky lit up with the aurora borealis of eternity. Raw, unfiltered spiritual reality is down right scary. No one has to tell us "Don't be afraid" when we look at the quaint creche scenes that seem to infuriate the ACLU. No one has to reassure us when we look at smiling Santa, or pat glowing Rudolph. But when the shiny dudes called angels burst in raw solar energy, radiating good news like a glowing furnace, the guys on the night shift needed a stiff drink and bolstered courage. So like sheep, they followed the heavenly directions.

And they found...a baby swaddled in birthing clothes, lain in a stone feeding trough. This is the germ from which all other Christmas pageantry springs. So unlikely, so shocking, that it is little wonder we have covered it up with saccharine traditions like mistletoe and stockings. Hey, I've got three kids and I have NEVER lain any of them in a feeding trough. They'd call social services on me, and they should. (whoever they are) Who would put their son there?

Well first of all Mary. So marginalized, so far from the center of society, that she had no other choice. Like an undocumented alien, on the run, in the back of a crowded pickup truck, she does the best she can. But beyond that, if you believe the story, God does it. God who's called a Father, lays His Son in a rock crib far from comfort. And somehow that's good news?

How could that be? Isn't it easier to sing "Away in a Manger" and feel good about ourselves by helping the "less fortunate" and going about our lives? Isn't this the easy way to celebrate Christmas?

Perhaps the "true meaning" of Christmas is that no matter where we are, laboring in a meaningless job, caring for children who seem to exalt their own wishes into imperatives, studying in school to enter an economy with no room for us, wherever this synthetic holiday finds us; we are the poor shepherds. We are the invited guests to God's mysterious entry into human history. We are the recipients of the joyful news that no station, no calling, no destiny in all the world is too mean, too humble, too meaningless, for God to pass it by at Christmas. Christmas is for the aliens, the factory workers, the out of work CEO's, the bankrupt, the parent's who regret not being able to afford the "perfect gift" and for the lonely and depressed at Christmas.

The Way of the Manger.

Christmas lies in a stone crib, barely clothed and squawling with full lungs; His every cry a "sign" from a transcendant God that this life can hold eternity. That raw, frightening spirituality can enter the grubby, mundane and often viscious world we all inhabit, and draw us to His side. Our Christmas is synthetic, processed, tame. The real Christmas is a mess...but it is a sign.

What do you think, stone manger earrings? Stone manger sweaters? Stone manger light displays for your yard? You make the call. Merry Christmas.

The Day I met Dr. Kevin Leman

2008-12-15T11:35:00.000-08:00

Hey--who said it isn't fun to name drop? Dr. Kevin Leman came to visit the CBN campus, and I snagged him to come talk to some students about...dare I say it...SEX. Now some folks may think that's not appropriate on a Christian campus. One might imagine that Christian students are so moral, so together that they rarely if ever have trouble with such subjects. There might be people who believe that, AND think that Illinois politics is still dominated by folks with nicknames like "Honest Abe." Not too many, I think.

No, the truth is that Christians, who of all people should have a settled idea of what sex should be used for, the purposes for which it was intended, are just as confused as everyone else on the subject. Dr. Kevin Leman made a strong biblical and practical case that marriage between a man and a woman should be the only context for sexual intercourse.

Now (or as President-elect Obama would say, "Look") I could get into the whole argument of pre-marital sex, same-sex sex, post-marital sex (is there any?) but I think this is not the venue. Suffice it to say that Kevin Leman spoke squarely and frankly to the issue. He did not dodge any questions or pull any punches. Rather, he set the tone for an honest, biblically-informed discussion of a topic that has bedeviled Christian leaders for centuries. And he did it with humor.

Me Laughing at some "Leman Raw" Comments

So the question is: Where can you talk honestly and freely about sexuality and the many challenges it brings? Do you have friends where that is fair game? Classes? Professors? Small accountability groups? It seems that if you don't, we should provide some safe places to ask and have our questions answered. I would be interested in providing that kind of safe environment, but would be interested in what you think.

1. Is our campus an open place to discuss struggles/issues with sexuality?

2. Are we judgmental about struggles in this area?

3. Do we have sufficient resources available for folks who want to grow in their sexual sobriety?

Let me know!

2008-12-01T10:59:00.001-08:00

What do you look forward to at the Thanksgiving table? What’s your favorite food item that’s going to be on the table? Is it the sweet potatoes? With the marshmallows that turn a glorious shade of brown on the top? Or is it the stuffing, with your family's special touch of seasoning and ingredients, that puts the finishing touch on the turkey? Or maybe you’re into the turkey itself, deep fried in peanut oil, brined just right, or roasted in the oven the way Grandma did it. Of course there's the cranberry sauce, whether it’s the fresh, raw cranberry salad that sits on my mom’s table, or cranberry served the way God wanted it to be served…on a plate, whole, jiggling in the sunlight, so you can see the little ridges from the can where it plopped out….

But what if there's nothing on your table this thanksgiving? How do you give thanks then? With our economy in the shape it’s in and with the country in an uproar about bailouts and meltdowns and with our 401k’s becoming 201k’s, many folks are looking at less on the table for which to give thanks. How do you give thanks when there's nothing on the table? The answer is that we have to look at the seat of thanksgiving--that we have to pay more attention to who is sitting in the chair than what is served on the table. What do I mean? Listen to this little snippet of Scripture:

"...the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives for ever and ever, " Rev. 4:9

(Artist's rendition of Yahweh's Throne)

The angels give us the example--we can give thanks to the one who sits in the Seat of Thanksgiving, even if there isn't much on the table for which to give thanks.

After a number of years in the pastorate I came back to Virginia to help a good friend run his chain of high end jewelry stores. For two years everything was great. But with terrible fourth quarter sales in 2007, our bank called in their business lines of credit. They came in and confiscated the jewelry as collateral. After a valiant effort to liquidate the inventory, we threw in the towel in early July. I had to personally call the 35 remaining employees of our business and let them know that they were the latest victim of our economic downturn. I found out the next day that I had joined them among the ranks of the unemployed. So on the brink of a recession, on the cusp of the biggest drop in the stock market ever, I was sitting at home thinking about my wife, my 3 children, and wondering why the sky was falling. Maybe some of you have been in a situation like that, and maybe you have family who are in that spot. What do you do when the table is empty and the kids are asking questions and the bills are piling up? How do you give thanks then?

My wife Bridget had it right--during that period of time she said to me, “You’ve got to remember Jesus is still on the throne. He has got something better for you, I just know He does.” She like St. John urged me to lift my eyes, and see that despite all evidence to the contrary Jesus was still in the seat of thanksgiving, He was still sitting on his throne, and “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, “Because the throne is a symbol of power, and Jesus sitting on it means that He is able to do immeasurably more than I could ever ask think or imagine.

I don't know what's on your table this year, but from my own life and from the Scriptures I've been reminded that its more important to know who's sitting in the seat of thanksgiving rather than focus on what's on the table. We can give thanks to Him who sits on the throne...no matter what life serves up.

Perhaps St. Paul said it best,

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. Phil. 4:12

Junior gives it to us Straight

2008-11-21T06:42:00.000-08:00

H. Wayne Huizenga Jr. aka "Junior" in his own parlance, spoke twice in the Hampton Roads area yesterday; once in the Leadership Prayer Breakfast and again in a special chapel at Regent University.

I've heard famous folks speak before, and to quote Forest Gump, " (famous speakers) are like a box of chocolates, you never know when they're going to get goey and ooze onto the floor or when you'll bite into one that looked good but turned out to be licorice flavor, ukkk!" Maybe that wasn't Forest Gump, but I'm sure someone said that.

From the outside, the box of chocolates looked good; famous wealthy guy from a famous wealthy family who was living the American dream. His bio says he's the President of the holding company that owns a controlling interest in the Dolphins and their stadium, which seems a bit convoluted, but hey; who's kidding whom--this is the guy who gets to sit in the luxury sky box and watch his favorite team every week in the fall--pretty much every little boy's dream! As he said, he had the cars and the houses and the travel and the lifestyle that we all want. But it wasn't enough.

Now I've been around church to know what was coming next. Like the little boy in Sunday School when the teacher asked him "What has a furry tail, climbs trees and eats nuts?" responded "Teacher it sounds like a squirrel, but this is Sunday School so I know the answer has got to be God or Jesus." I knew the answer was going to be "Jesus" (which of course I don't disagree with) but somehow my life has always seemed more complicated than that.

That's when this box of chocolate surprised me. Junior described his encounter with Christ, without hesitation and in powerful detail. But the most powerful part to me was his transparency in describing the steps and the stages by which he discovered that Jesus was the answer to his problems.

First, he was blessed to have a friend he enjoyed, who entered his world with whom he had fun. They did guy stuff like go fishing and ride submarines. Cool. Then he noticed there was a difference in the way they lived their lives. Junior asked great questions, "Why are we so different?" Then he responded by going to church. I loved the fact that he couldn't find any of his immediate friends who went to church. Really it makes me sad, because most church-type Christians have few "unchurched" friends. Then about 18 months later (if I have my facts straight) he had an old-fashioned "get saved" experience at a church. And even then he professed a discomfort with that label.

Wayne Jr. was extremely open, vulnerable and transparent with the struggle to "keep your eyes on Christ" while having alot of money. He talked about steps he takes regularly to grow in his faith, and to model his life on that of others he admires. He talked about ways he attempts to avoid mistakes his dad may have made in giving too much time to business. I came away thinking, "I relate to this guy, and his process of becoming more Christlike, less focused on self, and being honest along the way."

So for once, I reached into the box of chocolates and the one that came out was even better than it looked. Way to go Junior, our prayers are with you.

PS (Any way I can get tickets for this year's Super Bowl?)

Camping is In Tents

2008-11-10T07:31:00.000-08:00

Ok, so we went camping this weekend for the first time ever as a family. Call me crazy, I waited until November to do so. Maybe as an Eagle Scout I felt I had something to prove!

Now for those of you who know the Scout laws, "A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, etc." you'll notice one important camping skill is left out...

PATIENCE!

Probably that's because when I was a Scout, all I had to worry about was myself. Now, I have three kids a wife to look after, and that's where patience comes in. I'm not saying I'm perfect when it comes to camping. I left so many things at home it wasn't funny (D Batteries for the air mattress pump, extra batteries for the lantern...that went out 10 minutes after we got there, skewers to roast the hot dogs and marshmellows, you get the picture) But that didn't keep me from being annoyed at others... no sirree. I could be impatient when somebody else forgot things (paper plates and cups) annoyed when my son kept running off into the woods without telling anybody, or of course, entered the worst GRUMP ZONE of all when we got home and it was time to unload all the smoky things left in the family van.

It's a little humorous to me that God chose a family camping trip to teach patient faith to the forefather of three great religions...Abraham. Such a mundane venue, in a way, and yet such a profound journey.

Gen 12:4 So Abram left, as the LORD had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he set out from Haran. 5 He took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all the possessions they had accumulated and the people they had acquired in Haran, and they set out for the land of Canaan

I have long since discovered that I am by nature impatient...more concerned with the end result than the process; more worried about final perfection than concerned with the small steps in between. Family camping reveals to me how short-sighted my approach is. It reminds me that the process of discovering what one forgot is in itself preparation for the next trip, and the next.

Abraham learned lots of lessons while camping with his family, the best ones when he wasn't in such a hurry he couldn't share a little hospitality with friends (Gen. 18) or drop what you're doing to help a family member who got lost (Gen. 14) It was when he got IMPATIENT that Abraham got in trouble (Gen. 16) like when he got tired of waiting for God's promise to come true and made up his own plan. (Although in fairness to Abe, the story reveals that it was actually his wife Sarah's idea...which she conveniently blames him for later. Another camping pitfall...)

Family teaches us that life is not about SELF...it is about community. Family takes patience and proves that going TOGETHER is worth the wait. I was reminded that regardless of what I know or the experiences I have, if I can't use that knowledge to enrich the lives of those around me, it's pretty pointless. Our camping trip wasn't perfect, but it was the pefect opportunity for me to develop patience. And I needed it...

Prov. 19:11 A man's wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense.

Where do you need patience ? What helps you develop it?

22 Reasons to Rejoice for 44

2008-11-05T06:30:00.000-08:00

22 Reasons to Rejoice for 44

1. No one was killed as a result of exercising their constitutional right to vote in the United States of America.

2. An African-American was elected President for the first time in US History.

3. Women in America had the freedom to vote or not vote for a woman on a major party ticket.

4. Women in America had the freedom to vote or not vote for a woman as president.

5. John McCain, Obama's opponent, overcame imprisonment and torture as a prisoner of war to run for the highest office in the land.

6. Unprecedented voter registrations repudiate charges of apathy among the electorate in America.

7. Experts claim this election boasted the highest voter turnout rate in years, perhaps a century.

8. A Single mom raised a boy who became president, giving hope and inspiration to many.

9. Barack Obama was able to see his grandmother one last time before she passed away, thanking her for the enormous role she played in his life. What grandmother hasn't thought that her grandson or granddaughter might not grow up to be president?

10. Unprecedented numbers of young people got involved in the election process.

11. Hispanic Americans are playing an increasingly crucial role in national elections.

12. "Conventional wisdom" that is, know-it-all pundits telling us normal people what will happen, got set on it's ear in a number of ways...from Hillary Clinton's defeat to Sarah Palin's VP selection.

13. We have not suffered a terrorist attack in the 7 years following 9/11/01.

14. An enormous number of people feel buoyed with hope after the election, and believe good things about the future of our country. It sure beats cynicism!

15. John McCain gave an excellent example of how to lose gracefully.

16. We'll have little kids in the White House again.

17. Obama's victory means we don't have to watch silly
political ads for another four years.

18. Military servicemen who place their lives in harm's way will have their ballots counted, even if it takes time.

19. We can move from talking about the bad economy to
doing something about it.

20. Thousands got free Starbucks coffee, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts Chic-fil-A, Ben and Jerry's and others just for voting. I love this country.

21. Tina Fey will have to find a new skit for the next 4 years.

22. God is still on His throne, and shapes the lives of nations and individuals as He choses. No human can limit His power and no government exists without His permission. We can pray and support this government and this President because God can bless it, and bring peace to our lives.

God Bless America, and God Bless our new President Elect, Barack Obama.

Sola Fidei--Faith Alone

2008-10-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

"I kept the rule of my order so strictly that I may say that if ever a monk got to heaven by his monkery it was I." Martin Luther

I have spent some time recently thinking about Martin Luther and his well known mantra "Sola Fidei" (Faith Alone) Reading his life story has made me think of how much I have been tempted to trust in my own religious performance to please God. Truth is, I could never outdo Martin the Monk for devotion to religious duties--he plumb wore out his confessor! And his quote above was his own recognition that even the strictest monastic vows and duties could not guarantee God's grace...that only comes through faith alone.

Yet another obstacle for me has been trials and difficulties in my life. As difficult circumstances arise (and I have had more than my fair share the last 7 years) I end up wondering, "How can I keep faith in times like these?" I find myself questioning why God would allow bad things to happen to me...after all, haven't I been a good religious boy? (see Martin Luther above!) The reality of those dark times has brought to light new dimensions of faith I'd never seen. One person that has helped me has been St. John of the Cross.

St. John of the Cross

Juan de Yepes Alvarez. Or as he is more widely known, San Juan de la Cruz—St. John of the Cross. Juan grew up in a poor family in a Spanish town called Medina Del Campo—and his father died when he was young. His mother carted him and his special needs brother around begging from various relatives. By the time he was 21, he entered a monastery of the Carmelite order—the same group as St. Theresa of Avila. Like Theresa, Juan became a mystic of the first order. He would pray and meditate and fast for days on end. Like our friend Martin Luther—whom we will consider in a moment—he was a great reformer in his own right. His poetry in Spanish is fluid, simple and elegant. Perhaps he is most famous for the work, Dark Night of the Soul.

Perhaps because of his own difficult background, Juan pictured our life in Christ as a journey—a spiritual road where the initiate or beginner climbs ever higher through difficulties ultimately to union with God. But that journey is one that takes us through the darkness. We sang earlier with Kim and the team, sometimes the road is marked with suffering, is it not? San Juan de la Cruz says that there are times when the road is a dark one. His famous phrase is the “dark night of the soul.” Perhaps you knew that the great Polish Cardinal who became Pope John Paul II wrote his doctoral dissertation on the concept of faith in St. John of the Cross. He points out that for Juan “Faith is night.” Night is the emptiness that reveals our desire for the world and its pleasures. Night is that which weans us from our desire and attachment to wordly things. Faith in the dark Night reminds us that our attachment to lesser things often prohibits our union with the greatest thing—God himself.

In my own life it has been the loss of things dear to me—it has been the tragic loss of innocence, the loss of status,—the loss of income and of certainty and of a sense of control—these losses that were black as the night sky—wherein God has shone more brightly than ever.

I'm wondering how your faith journey has been...has it been an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Or the active night of faith? Let me know!

Soli Deo Gloria

Some interesting books on the subject:

Dark Night of the Soul: St. John of the Cross

Faith According to St. John of the Cross

Luther's Theology of the Cross

Here I Stand

Mourning the Loss of a Friend

2008-10-20T07:05:00.000-07:00

According to Dr. Michael Palmer, Dean of the Regent School of Divinity, Dr. J. Rodman Williams went home to be with the Lord this past Sat. Oct. 18, 2008. He was 90 years old.

Dr. Williams was emeritus professor of systematic theology in the School of Divinity. Rod’s dear wife Jo is reported to be doing well.

Rod’s obituary will appear in the Virginian Pilot on Tuesday and Wednesday, and will provide details about the time and location of the burial on Thursday morning, October 23. At 7:00 p.m. on Thursday evening a memorial service will be held at Kempsville Presbyterian Church. Dr. Danny Gilbert, one of Rod's first graduate assistants and protégé, will preside. Danny is also an M.Div. alumnus of the School of Divinity.

I have grown up respecting Dr. Williams for his unique blend of scholarship, churchmanship, and warm personal faith. His written works (The Gift of the Holy Spirit Today, and his 3 volume Renewal Theology) have nurtured my hopes for a "both/and" in the worlds of vibrant spirituality and rigorous scholarship. I grinned from ear to ear when he commented warmly on one of my first sermons preached as a young intern at Kempsville Presbyterian Church.

But most of all I grew because he opened up time in his schedule. Here was a man who kept an active teaching load well into advanced age, played tennis, spoke and gave papers in numerous localities. Yet, when I was looking for one to give advice and wisdom about where to study Divinity, how to navigate the pitfalls of academic study of the Bible, he was there.

His wise words and gentle encouragement were used by God to send me on a path that has borne good fruit. I am grateful to Dr. Williams for being available to me and so many others through the years, and for taking his considerable talents and using them diligently and patiently for the good of the kingdom these many years.

You will be missed.

2008-10-13T07:03:00.001-07:00

Can I judge Bill Maher?

Bill Maher makes a living making judgments... and his judgment on religion is particularly harsh. On the link above, you can find him mocking with eqanimity televangelists, Mormons, a belief in heaven (although he describes a Neo-platonist version of heaven, complete with "dancing ghosts with a cosmic daddy) Overall, Maher adopts a snide, mocking tone of faith and people of faith that matches his publicly stated beliefs that intelligent religious people have a "neurological disorder." Nothing like demonizing your opponents...

But of all the things that can be said about Bill Maher, I would like to hone in on one comment he made while on the View...

MAHER: And this movie- one reason why it got such good reviews- and even religious people who watched it liked this movie is, we don’t judge. We don’t point fingers. We’re not making anybody feel bad. I’m just asking questions that nobody asks because this is the last taboo subject.

Maher invokes the Golden Rule of modern society "We don't judge. " Restated, "We don't point fingers..." Implication--religious people DO judge, religious people DO point fingers, therefore they are bad and we (the scientific rationalists) are good. But of course, isnt' that a judgment?

So do we agree with Mr. Maher, that the height of good is not to judge? Not to point the finger?

First, we have to say that Bill doesn't follow his own advice. "Religilous" the movie is nothing but a judgment against religious individuals that concludes that they are ridiculous and worthy of mockery. And admitedly, some of the individuals on the show are ridiculous (there I go making judgments) but if we're supposed to admire the work as "not finger pointing" I think we could agree it misses that mark...rather specifically pointing a "special finger" at all religious folks that were highlighted in the flick.

Second, I think we'd have to say that some form of judgment is required in life to thrive. Should I spend more than I earn? Should I buy a house that my income will not support? Should I package these risky securities into a nifty new investment, and parcel out to different banks so as to sever accountability from their original source? Well, in a world with no judgments, the answer is "YES" regardless of the consequences. But does one hear the chorus of "judge not..." from the media (or bill Maher for that matter) for the Wall Street types whose greed colored their JUDGMENT or consumers who took "low-doc" (Liars loans) mortgages without considering the consequences? NO. We expect are financiers to make better judgments than that, because poor judgments have dire consequences.

Incidentally, I agree with Maher that religion requires CAREFUL JUDGMENT. Jesus said this in no uncertain terms.

15"Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. 16By their fruit you will recognize them.... Matthew 7:15-16

Some of the religious leaders Maher interviews are more fruitcakes than true spiritual fruit. They do not pass the test Jesus lays out for us...which is our FIRST JUDGMENT: (We'll call it the Maher test, in honor of our friend)

TEST #1 JUDGE So-called Spiritual Leaders to see if they are producing spiritual fruit.

Folks like Bill Maher have so much to jack their jaws about because we folks of faith do such a poor job of exercising our ability to make a reasonable decision on the credibility of so-called religious leaders based on the hard evidence of results. Maher's right and he's wrong...some religious leaders are ridiculous, but we DO need to make a judgment.

So tell me--what do you think?

To Judge or Not to judge

2008-10-09T18:04:00.001-07:00

Most people I meet know very little about the Bible, which is all cool. It doesn't so much bother me, because most people I meet who THINK they know alot about the Bible unfortunately don't. But without question the one piece of the Bible even folks like Bill Maher know is the dictum "Judge NOT...!"

Is that in the Bible? Yup. Is it incorrect? Nope. Just incomplete. Matthew 7:1 says,

1"Do not judge, or you too will be judged

In another New Testament book, Luke, we see a similar verse,

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.

In context, it certainly seems to state a truth I think we have all experienced: If you are a judgmental twit, guess what? What goes around comes around. (The revised Richard version) Luke adds the positive statement, "Forgive..." and you'll pay good stuff forward. Like forgiveness. Mercy. Some slack... the kind of stuff we cut ourselves, and hope others will too. It's in that whole "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" (The Golden Rule) vein, which incidentally, comes from this same part of Matthew.

In understanding a piece of the Bible, a couple of "rules of thumb" are helpful. One is that context is necessary to understand the purpose of a passage. Here, in context, Jesus is contrasting a life of hypocritical judgmentalism by a group of religious folks. (Wow, times sure have changed, huh?) He's warning his followers that a sincere passion to seek righteousness (right living the way God desires it) can often make us legalistic, high and mighty, and yes, judgmental. As we say in my house, "That's a big no-no."

Not only does it invite the judgment of others, it invites the judgment of God. That's the ultimate result of a self-righteous life of looking down one's moral nose at everyone around...you get to the end of the show and you run into the real judge. And He says, Ok, you spent your life throwing the book at folks--it's your turn pal. What about when you said this to your teacher? (but I was so young!) What about when you did this when your wife wasn't looking? (But she deserved it!) What about when you downloaded old episodes of Knight Rider to watch alone with Chunky Monkey Ice cream? (Ok Lord, I just have no excuse for that one)

Judging others harshly often comes back to bite us here, and certainly in the long run it will before God. But does that mean we should or could never judge anyone for anything?

Well that's an interesting question for a later post. For now--take my little quiz and post away.

Procrastination--when a blog is more like a log

2008-10-02T08:24:00.000-07:00

OK--so I didn't become a superhuman blog machine. I have a blog now, it's a good thing (I think) and like many other good things in my life, it has just sat there. More like a log than a blog.

It made me think of all the other things that have fungus growing on them in my life. (Don't be too literal here...go with me) There's my tennis game...haven't been out to swing the old racquet in some weeks now. But in typical form, when I go out next, I'll expect to be at the top of my game, and be mad at myself when I'm not. Then there's attention to my finances, seeding my yard, cleaning up the garage (uggh) and deciding whom to vote for.

It all comes down to that lovely word PROCRASTINATION.

While academic procrastination is not a special type of procrastination, procrastination is thought to be particularly prevalent in the academic setting, where students are required to meet deadlines for assignments and tests in an environment full of events and activities which compete for the students' time and attention. More specifically, a 1992 study showed that "52% of surveyed students indicated having a moderate to high need for help concerning procrastination

When I was in school, I used to leave a book on Procastination on my coffee table, just so when someone asked me if I had read it, I could say "NO, I HAVEN"T GOTTEN AROUND TO IT."

I'm wondering how procrastination works for you--is it fear that grips you? Is it a nagging perfectionism that inists everything must be perfect for others to be impressed with your performance? Is it just anxiety--that won't let you start on the multiple projects you have because you just don't see how you'll finish?

Ok--a little Bible for you. “Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD is kept safe.”- Proverbs 29:25

For me, procrastination is about the snare of fear--wanting to have my stuff together so that others will be impressed. The bigger the project, the more I want it to be perfect--and the more I want others to like me and my accomplishments. I remember putting off my senior paper in College (it was supposed to be over 100 pages) piling research upon research, and never quite getting around to putting it all together. In that instance, it took someone else to come alongside and help in order to get the wheels moving again.

So here's the questions:

1. What are you procrastinating?

2. Any clue why?

3. Who in your world is in a place to help you have a better perspective on your fear?

Turtle on a Fencepost

2008-09-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

So I am standing on a stage this morning behind the Rev. Dr. M.G. "Pat" Robertson, asked to say a prayer for this great man on the occasion of Regent University's 30th Anniversary. There was a special edition of the 700 Club shot on location at Regent today. All I could think was "I've watched this man on TV since I was a kid--what do I have to say? But then I realized that as inconsequential as I felt, I was a realization of Pat Robertson's dream. Dr. David Gyertson was one of the original seven faculty and staff members of Regent. (then CBNU) But more importantly to me, he has been my pastor. As I learned God's truth from him, I sensed a call in my own life to spread the word of God.

Over the administration building of Regent is emblazoned a verse:

"And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others."

These words of St. Paul to Timothy represent the call to recruit world class faculty who in turn entrust their knowledge and wisdom to students, who in turn become "Christian Leaders to Change the World."

Truth is, all of us wonder some time or another if God could ever use us. Lord knows I ask myself that question most every day. But clueless, mistake-prone clods such as myself are exactly the kind of folk God has chosen to spread his word and His work around the world.

One of my other mentors, Dick Woodward, would often say, "If you see a turtle on the fencepost, you know one thing for certain--he didn't get there himself." Amen. Thank you to Pat Robertson and all the faculty and staff of Regent University for a great 30 years. I am proud to serve here, as a turtle on a fence post--waiting to see what God will do next.

Spiritual gift of Sarcasm

2008-09-04T13:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, I suppose this blog had to get spiritual sometime. I want to reveal my (top?) spiritual gift...the gift of SARCASM! You know how it works, you wait for someone to say something semi-serious, or hopelessly naive, and they've just set themselves up for the hammer! I have mastered the wicked little cut down, the eyebrow raised dismissive comment, such that I have been asked onto the 2012 Olympic Synchronized Sarcasm team.

Sarcasm you know what I'm talking about.

Sarcasm is stating the opposite of an intended meaning especially in order to sneeringly, slyly, jest or mock a person, situation or thing. It is strongly associated with irony, with some definitions classifying it as a type of verbal irony intended to insult or wound. Sarcasm can also be used in a humorous or jesting way depending on the intent of the person speaking

So what's the big deal? Everyone uses it...we live in an upside down language world where everything we say is ironic, sardonic, sarcastic or biting somehow. well--I know for me I have become a little "en guarde" lest I be thought too serious, or too earnest, or well, just a big dope because I am just a bit old fashionedly (is that a word?) sincere.

and here's my point (someone out there is seeking one, I'm sure) Last night I was interacting with an old friend on Facebook about their view of VP Nominee Sarah Palin's speech. My old buddy is quite a bit more hip than I (not hard) and also a bit more liberal. So I tried not to let on that maybe, just maybe I enjoyed it, and threw a couple of one liners out into cyber space. I realized that I was scared just to say what I thought, so I hid behind my sarcasm.

Since I've been on campus at Regent, I have had startlingly sincere feelings of happiness, excitement, and hope. I find myself smiling for no reason. for those of you who don't know my story, I've been through quite a bit to get here, and not all of it pleasant. So to be in a place where I can use my gifts and maybe help people at the same time, and meet the most fantastic people in the world, well golly Beave, it's just swell. :-) (caution--sappy dope alert) And when I feel that, I find myself wanting to protect myself by using sarcasm, pretending not to be so twinkly-eyed about the situation, in the hopes that no one will burst my bubble.

I shared this info with Dr. Carlos Campo, our new Academic VP. He said to me, "When you quit smiling, and go back to being sarcastic and cynical, let me know, because that's not good."

How do you use sarcasm? When is it good? When is it somethign to hide behind? Let me know.

I promise not to mock your answers...too bad. ;-)
richard