The church where my family and I worship is an interesting one to say the least. It's a relatively small congregation that rates itself "not on it's seating capacity, but on it's sending capacity." They do that well. The church is like a revolving door of missionaries both locally and abroad.
The church does great things in the community that help people's basic needs (laundry, transportation, meals). It has a very active recovery ministry that helps people utilize Christ's transforming grace to heal them from their hurts, habits, and hang ups. There is also a thriving Hispanic congregation that is very much an important part of the church.
Here are three descriptors to help complete this picture: the church is only 8 years old, 90% of those attending Sunday morning worship have none or very little Church background, we meet in a little white warehouse in a pretty hoopty area of downtown Lexington.
No one ever knows what one will encounter on any given Sunday morning. Yesterday was exceptionally comical...
There was the obligatory infant crying.
There was a guy in the second row was commenting (throughout the 50 min sermon) both with hand and face gestures as well as, yes, audibly. The guy was actually answering rhetorical questions, vocalizing the preacher's implicit points, and saying things that were supposed to be funny.
There was the cell phone ringing. Oh yeah, the person answered the phone! Fortunately she didn't carry on a conversation, but she attempted to discretely tell the caller "I'm in church!" just before she hung up the phone.
There were some former member who had moved away some time ago and came back to visit yesterday. The preacher carried on something of a brief conversation with the couple before he introduced them to the congregation.
Through all of that, God was clearly present in the worship service. And that's the beauty of this church! There is always something going on, there are always people talking and making noise, there are always "those weird people" there, and rarely does a week go by without some kind of surprise. The only thing that keeps it from being a circus is the lack of hay on the ground and live animals.
This church is not for the faint of heart. But it is for those whose heart is fainting. For those who live in circus conditions all week long.
With my graduation and my family's impending relocation at hand, I must admit that I will deeply miss our little Barnum & Bailey Church.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
just like Wilberforce
When Amazing Grace (the movie) was released I was somewhat interested and I made a mental note that it would probably be enjoyable, but as with all movies that are released now-a-days, I never got around to watch it. So when my prof assigned the class to watch Amazing Grace, I had opportunity do just that.
We were out of sweet tea so I pressed play, went back to the kitchen filled up a saucepan, put a tea bag in it and turned on the eye. I put the perfect amount of sugar into the container and dissolved it in some hot water. As with everything, I was multi tasking to be a better steward of those confining 24 hour time slots.
The movie started off a little slow and a little difficult to understand. But as soon as I turned my internal accent comprehension knob to '18th Century English' things were all good.
Twelve minutes later I'm wrapped in my fleece blanket, discussion questions at my side with a big blue cup of sweet tea in hand.
By the time Wilberforce is being shown the belly of a slave ship I'm in a vacuum and there is only me and the movie. I'm engrossed. Throughout the rest of the movie I'm taking in by the enormity of Wilberforce's goal.
His goal was not to pass a bill, but to force others to reckon with the value of human life. People are created equal, Wilberforce said. Genesis says we are the cherry on top of God's Creation sundae. Our Constitution says it doesn't matter where we're from, the girth of our bank roll, the amount degrees we have framed, how well we can carry a tune or a football, or how many friends we have. Jesus says it doesn't even matter which god we bow before, because people are of utmost importance; even worth dying for.
I recently read that we forget God when we forget the people God cares about, and we remember God when we bless those God cares about. Who does God care about? The orphan, the widow, the naked, the hungry, the lost, the imprisoned, the slave, the broken-hearted, the unhealthy, the the the the...
God cares about everyone, but I think God has a soft spot for those people who received an extra cup of crap in their life's recipe. So I'm hoping to have that same soft spot so I can see need and pounce upon it. Just like Wilberforce did.
We were out of sweet tea so I pressed play, went back to the kitchen filled up a saucepan, put a tea bag in it and turned on the eye. I put the perfect amount of sugar into the container and dissolved it in some hot water. As with everything, I was multi tasking to be a better steward of those confining 24 hour time slots.
The movie started off a little slow and a little difficult to understand. But as soon as I turned my internal accent comprehension knob to '18th Century English' things were all good.
Twelve minutes later I'm wrapped in my fleece blanket, discussion questions at my side with a big blue cup of sweet tea in hand.
By the time Wilberforce is being shown the belly of a slave ship I'm in a vacuum and there is only me and the movie. I'm engrossed. Throughout the rest of the movie I'm taking in by the enormity of Wilberforce's goal.
His goal was not to pass a bill, but to force others to reckon with the value of human life. People are created equal, Wilberforce said. Genesis says we are the cherry on top of God's Creation sundae. Our Constitution says it doesn't matter where we're from, the girth of our bank roll, the amount degrees we have framed, how well we can carry a tune or a football, or how many friends we have. Jesus says it doesn't even matter which god we bow before, because people are of utmost importance; even worth dying for.
I recently read that we forget God when we forget the people God cares about, and we remember God when we bless those God cares about. Who does God care about? The orphan, the widow, the naked, the hungry, the lost, the imprisoned, the slave, the broken-hearted, the unhealthy, the the the the...
God cares about everyone, but I think God has a soft spot for those people who received an extra cup of crap in their life's recipe. So I'm hoping to have that same soft spot so I can see need and pounce upon it. Just like Wilberforce did.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
a tiny grasp
I'm 36 years old. When I was about 20 there was a popular song with a verse that said something like,
"There is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
Watching the world wake up from history."
I remember thinking about all the amazing things that had happened in my lifetime, mostly technological. 1972 to the early 1990's saw some serious electronic gadgets invented, developed, made smaller and cheaper and better.
Now, pushing twenty years later, the world has transcended a new millennium - and survived. As I look back on the last twenty years, the advancements have been humanitarian.
*Disclaimer* I'm looking through the eyes of an American who - with the exception of a few popular travesties - doesn't really know that much about civil situations across the globe.
That being said, America who, just a short generation ago, was slit down the middle with the ravenous blade of racism, is now being led by a black man who was voted in under peaceful conditions.
On a much, much smaller front just two seasons ago the world watched as two NFL teams, each led by a black head coach, played for the title of Superbowl champion.
There are other examples I'm missing, but it's not because I'm overlooking them. My heart has changed a great deal in the last 36 years. There is not one Christian look, action, skin tone, vocabulary, church, dialect, clothes line, lifestyle, or smile. Jesus was not legalistic and his movement shouldn't be either. Both Paul and Jesus said the words of all the prophets and the Law can be summarized into two sentences: Love God with all your heart, soul, and mind; and Love your neighbor.
At the end of the day, it's all about love. Love.
My favorite change in the last 36 years is the change within me. Unfortunately this is 36 years in the making. Fortunately it's only taken 36 years. Hopefully I have 36 more to do something with it. I now Love God. I now know God loves me where I am. I now Love people where they are.
This change has given me just a tiny grasp on a teeny part of the eternal screenplay that God has written. But it's a grasp and I'm hanging on. Because there is no other place I want to be.
"There is no other place I want to be
Right here, right now
Watching the world wake up from history."
I remember thinking about all the amazing things that had happened in my lifetime, mostly technological. 1972 to the early 1990's saw some serious electronic gadgets invented, developed, made smaller and cheaper and better.
Now, pushing twenty years later, the world has transcended a new millennium - and survived. As I look back on the last twenty years, the advancements have been humanitarian.
*Disclaimer* I'm looking through the eyes of an American who - with the exception of a few popular travesties - doesn't really know that much about civil situations across the globe.
That being said, America who, just a short generation ago, was slit down the middle with the ravenous blade of racism, is now being led by a black man who was voted in under peaceful conditions.
On a much, much smaller front just two seasons ago the world watched as two NFL teams, each led by a black head coach, played for the title of Superbowl champion.
There are other examples I'm missing, but it's not because I'm overlooking them. My heart has changed a great deal in the last 36 years. There is not one Christian look, action, skin tone, vocabulary, church, dialect, clothes line, lifestyle, or smile. Jesus was not legalistic and his movement shouldn't be either. Both Paul and Jesus said the words of all the prophets and the Law can be summarized into two sentences: Love God with all your heart, soul, and mind; and Love your neighbor.
At the end of the day, it's all about love. Love.
My favorite change in the last 36 years is the change within me. Unfortunately this is 36 years in the making. Fortunately it's only taken 36 years. Hopefully I have 36 more to do something with it. I now Love God. I now know God loves me where I am. I now Love people where they are.
This change has given me just a tiny grasp on a teeny part of the eternal screenplay that God has written. But it's a grasp and I'm hanging on. Because there is no other place I want to be.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
little wins
I recently discovered that the fluid course schedule I have been rigidly planning throughout my seminary career is not going to cut it. Instead of being able to walk in May and complete the remaining 3 hours in June, I must complete all credit hours by May in order to be commissioned in my conference as planned. If I even have one hour lacking I will have to wait until next year to go through the tumultuous process, thus putting off my desired goal. This means I have to wedge a 3 hour course in somewhere within two semesters. After a gut check to see if the sacrifice would be worth it, I decided to bite the bullet and added 3 hours to my current fall load. After working so diligently to balance school, family, personal, and conference I seem to have failed. This, I considered to be a devastating blow. A huge failure. I was quite downtrodden to say the least.
However, over the past couple weeks my spirits have been lifted. Praise God for the little wins. I rely on them heavily to get me through the dredging days of accumulated sleeplessness:
Hitting a passionately fought 10 -12 hit ping pong rally and winning as my shot nicks the outside corner of the table just enough to route the ball's trajectory away from my opponent's paddle.
Sitting in the car waiting for Becca to come out of Kroger, have White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" come on the radio (which is in itself a win) only to hear Cavender ask from the back seat"turn it a little louder!"
Sinking into Big Red and watching college football on a crisp fall day.
Being able to pick Cavender up from Day Care everyday with Becca.
Holding Becca's hand while walking.
Having someone show interest in me as a church planter.
Having three projects due in a week and completing them on time without pulling an all-nighter.
Hanging out with extended family at Cavender's birthday at Grammie and PawPaw's house in the pasture.
Hearing Cavender belly laugh.
Hearing Becca belly laugh.
Having friends come over and enjoy the bounty of my new Weber.
Getting a nugget from the Word thusly rekindling my excitement to be a pastor.
Enjoying my devotions.
Watching Fetch with Ruff Ruffman. (That's also fun with Cavender, but let's face it, Ruff is funny.)
...fortunately this list is not exhaustive and God has opened my eyes to those many little wins that cover the one loss.
However, over the past couple weeks my spirits have been lifted. Praise God for the little wins. I rely on them heavily to get me through the dredging days of accumulated sleeplessness:
Hitting a passionately fought 10 -12 hit ping pong rally and winning as my shot nicks the outside corner of the table just enough to route the ball's trajectory away from my opponent's paddle.
Sitting in the car waiting for Becca to come out of Kroger, have White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" come on the radio (which is in itself a win) only to hear Cavender ask from the back seat"turn it a little louder!"
Sinking into Big Red and watching college football on a crisp fall day.
Being able to pick Cavender up from Day Care everyday with Becca.
Holding Becca's hand while walking.
Having someone show interest in me as a church planter.
Having three projects due in a week and completing them on time without pulling an all-nighter.
Hanging out with extended family at Cavender's birthday at Grammie and PawPaw's house in the pasture.
Hearing Cavender belly laugh.
Hearing Becca belly laugh.
Having friends come over and enjoy the bounty of my new Weber.
Getting a nugget from the Word thusly rekindling my excitement to be a pastor.
Enjoying my devotions.
Watching Fetch with Ruff Ruffman. (That's also fun with Cavender, but let's face it, Ruff is funny.)
...fortunately this list is not exhaustive and God has opened my eyes to those many little wins that cover the one loss.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
road trip
There's just something special about going home. Even though right now both of our respective families are dealing with hardships, I enjoy going back to GA to spend some time away from the ever-present stress of nagging school work -yes, that exists even in the summer.
Bec's parents live about 40 miles north of Atlanta so it takes us around 6 hours to get to their house. It's a beautifully scenic drive down 75 South. It really doesn't matter which season. The pastures of Kentucky and the Blue Ridge mountains of east Tennessee make it a pleasant trip.
Last Thursday, on the drive down, our little family encountered an interesting phenomena that can only be justified with pictures, sadly we have none. So I will do my best to explain.
We left Wilmore about 12:3o in the afternoon. We had hopes of arriving at the Long's (Bec's parents) at supper time. But alas, we got stuck in some nasty road construction traffic just a little ways south of Lexington. This put us behind a solid hour.
As our newly imposed schedule would have it, we were at the exit for Cleveland, TN at supper time; so we obliged the exit and followed the arrows to restaurant row. Much to our pleasure there was a Bojangles'. Bec and I are big fans of their chicken biscuits -served all day long thank you very much!
As we pulled in, the weather is sprinkling a bit so Cavender grips her little purple Tinkerbell umbrella and holds it securly as we walk to the door. As we gather ourselves inside, I notice for the amount of cars in the parking lot there are surprisingly few people in the restaurant. There were just two neighboring booths filled with one party, 0ther than that the store was empty. Oh, except the guy sitting by himself fidgeting with the conrols of the metal briefcase style portable sound system which was -somewhat- linked to the two speakers on the 5' stands in the corner. Said corner had been cleared out to make room for the microphone through which the nice lady selling her CD's would later sing. She stood beside a desktop display selling her bluegrass CD's.
They were nice enough to let everyone eating their dinner sample the goods before purchasing. Remember those two booths that were full? Those people were clearly with the featured recording artist. That makes exactly one other family in Bojangles' that are supposed to be reeled into enjoying the music or purchasing one of her discs. Awkward.
As our schedule would have it we mistimed the live Thursday evening performance. If I would have had $10 that I absolutely couldn't find anything else to do with I would have bought a CD. But as it was, sitting at the furthest posible table, Bec and I enjoyed the humor of it all while discretely fielding Cavender's many questions so not to bring attention to ourselves.
Rebecca wanted me to take a picture but I just didn't have it in me.
Bec's parents live about 40 miles north of Atlanta so it takes us around 6 hours to get to their house. It's a beautifully scenic drive down 75 South. It really doesn't matter which season. The pastures of Kentucky and the Blue Ridge mountains of east Tennessee make it a pleasant trip.
Last Thursday, on the drive down, our little family encountered an interesting phenomena that can only be justified with pictures, sadly we have none. So I will do my best to explain.
We left Wilmore about 12:3o in the afternoon. We had hopes of arriving at the Long's (Bec's parents) at supper time. But alas, we got stuck in some nasty road construction traffic just a little ways south of Lexington. This put us behind a solid hour.
As our newly imposed schedule would have it, we were at the exit for Cleveland, TN at supper time; so we obliged the exit and followed the arrows to restaurant row. Much to our pleasure there was a Bojangles'. Bec and I are big fans of their chicken biscuits -served all day long thank you very much!
As we pulled in, the weather is sprinkling a bit so Cavender grips her little purple Tinkerbell umbrella and holds it securly as we walk to the door. As we gather ourselves inside, I notice for the amount of cars in the parking lot there are surprisingly few people in the restaurant. There were just two neighboring booths filled with one party, 0ther than that the store was empty. Oh, except the guy sitting by himself fidgeting with the conrols of the metal briefcase style portable sound system which was -somewhat- linked to the two speakers on the 5' stands in the corner. Said corner had been cleared out to make room for the microphone through which the nice lady selling her CD's would later sing. She stood beside a desktop display selling her bluegrass CD's.
They were nice enough to let everyone eating their dinner sample the goods before purchasing. Remember those two booths that were full? Those people were clearly with the featured recording artist. That makes exactly one other family in Bojangles' that are supposed to be reeled into enjoying the music or purchasing one of her discs. Awkward.
As our schedule would have it we mistimed the live Thursday evening performance. If I would have had $10 that I absolutely couldn't find anything else to do with I would have bought a CD. But as it was, sitting at the furthest posible table, Bec and I enjoyed the humor of it all while discretely fielding Cavender's many questions so not to bring attention to ourselves.
Rebecca wanted me to take a picture but I just didn't have it in me.
Monday, July 28, 2008
rock 'n roll ain't noise pollution
I was born in 1972 but my formative years were in 8 - 18. Yes, I am a child of the 80's.
I have a brother who is older by4 years and a sister older by 16 months. They both have had a great influence on my life and I love them both very much. Between the two my brother, Reese, had the greatest impact on my life that I feel the effects of still today. He introduced me to Rock 'n Roll.
From my earliest memory Reese has loved rock music. During the early 80's it was Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio, Van Halen (DLR days of course!), Motley Crue, Black Sabbath and subsequently Ozzy. And I was right there with him. I loved that stuff! Most of my friends were listening to Journey, Night Ranger, and Loverboy thinking those were rock...pssh. That was Power 99 stuff.
As the late 80's rolled around Reese was all about underground bands and recording videos from Headbanger's Ball. He still liked the hard stuff, but his flavor turned to glam. (Glam is a subset of what is now lumped as 'hair bands'; hair band is an all encompassing label that unjustly groups true rock bands with weenie bands simply because they all had long hair. This travesty is for a later post.)
My music interests also changed during the mid 80's. I started skateboarding and everyone knows when you first start skating you have to relinquish all ties to your former musical interests and pledge your allegiance to punk rock. I gave up my rock roots for a short time, but it wasn't long before I was watching MTV from midnight to 3am on Saturday nights again. My short marriage to punk, abstaining from all the rest, just stemmed an appreciation for different kinds of music. I broke the myth that says you half to only listen to punk to skate.
In the late 80's Poison, Warrent, and Bon Jovi were king. But there were other bands too. Bands like Skid Row, Bulletboys, and Dangerous Toys. These bands were not quite as popular but they were good. Still other, much lesser known, bands Junkyard, Black 'n Blue, and Kix were good too. The Masquerade was my favorite place to go see the less popular bands. I saw a million shows there.
So here we are in the end of the first decade of the 21st century. The mention of a hair band is done only for a laugh at the expense of the genre, Dee Snider is the hair band ambassador for those born after 1981, and Bon Jovi is still doing what he/they can to keep it real.
I'm 35, and on occasion I enjoy popping in Iron Maiden's Live After Death cassette, or circling in the youtube vertigo of rock 'n roll videos....until the other day when I saw a video through unstained eyes.
My friend and I pulled up the video of a lesser known 80's band for the humor factor. The singer had on denim cut off short shorts, some sort of fluffy shirt kinda like Seinfield's ruffle shirt w/o the ruffles, and a straight black cane. A cane! The setting was a old Western ghost town…
My friend's laughter opened my eyes to the absurdity of his attire. I remember when that attire was normal(-ish) so I didn't think anything about it until he pointed it out. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Other than the way they dressed and moved, their lyrics are far from wholesome. Not to sound like Tipper Gore, or my mom for that matter, but if they weren't singing about sex they weren't singing at all. Yes, I know, it hurts me to even say that. But seriously, they could slip in the element of sex anywhere. Listen to the lyrics sometime. What hurt the most is when we watched one of my favorite songs of all time, a song by Bulletboys. I never really thought about the lyrics because I’ve known them so long. But woah, I wouldn’t even say the title in front of someone I just met.
Dangit. I guess ACDC was wrong, rock ‘n roll is noise pollution.
I have a brother who is older by4 years and a sister older by 16 months. They both have had a great influence on my life and I love them both very much. Between the two my brother, Reese, had the greatest impact on my life that I feel the effects of still today. He introduced me to Rock 'n Roll.
From my earliest memory Reese has loved rock music. During the early 80's it was Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Dio, Van Halen (DLR days of course!), Motley Crue, Black Sabbath and subsequently Ozzy. And I was right there with him. I loved that stuff! Most of my friends were listening to Journey, Night Ranger, and Loverboy thinking those were rock...pssh. That was Power 99 stuff.
As the late 80's rolled around Reese was all about underground bands and recording videos from Headbanger's Ball. He still liked the hard stuff, but his flavor turned to glam. (Glam is a subset of what is now lumped as 'hair bands'; hair band is an all encompassing label that unjustly groups true rock bands with weenie bands simply because they all had long hair. This travesty is for a later post.)
My music interests also changed during the mid 80's. I started skateboarding and everyone knows when you first start skating you have to relinquish all ties to your former musical interests and pledge your allegiance to punk rock. I gave up my rock roots for a short time, but it wasn't long before I was watching MTV from midnight to 3am on Saturday nights again. My short marriage to punk, abstaining from all the rest, just stemmed an appreciation for different kinds of music. I broke the myth that says you half to only listen to punk to skate.
In the late 80's Poison, Warrent, and Bon Jovi were king. But there were other bands too. Bands like Skid Row, Bulletboys, and Dangerous Toys. These bands were not quite as popular but they were good. Still other, much lesser known, bands Junkyard, Black 'n Blue, and Kix were good too. The Masquerade was my favorite place to go see the less popular bands. I saw a million shows there.
So here we are in the end of the first decade of the 21st century. The mention of a hair band is done only for a laugh at the expense of the genre, Dee Snider is the hair band ambassador for those born after 1981, and Bon Jovi is still doing what he/they can to keep it real.
I'm 35, and on occasion I enjoy popping in Iron Maiden's Live After Death cassette, or circling in the youtube vertigo of rock 'n roll videos....until the other day when I saw a video through unstained eyes.
My friend and I pulled up the video of a lesser known 80's band for the humor factor. The singer had on denim cut off short shorts, some sort of fluffy shirt kinda like Seinfield's ruffle shirt w/o the ruffles, and a straight black cane. A cane! The setting was a old Western ghost town…
My friend's laughter opened my eyes to the absurdity of his attire. I remember when that attire was normal(-ish) so I didn't think anything about it until he pointed it out. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Other than the way they dressed and moved, their lyrics are far from wholesome. Not to sound like Tipper Gore, or my mom for that matter, but if they weren't singing about sex they weren't singing at all. Yes, I know, it hurts me to even say that. But seriously, they could slip in the element of sex anywhere. Listen to the lyrics sometime. What hurt the most is when we watched one of my favorite songs of all time, a song by Bulletboys. I never really thought about the lyrics because I’ve known them so long. But woah, I wouldn’t even say the title in front of someone I just met.
Dangit. I guess ACDC was wrong, rock ‘n roll is noise pollution.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
paying the price of getting what I want
Although I was not an academic overachiever growing up, I have always respected the intelligentsia. I have a high regard for people who are able to use their mental capacity to produce great things. Things like books for instance. As I approach the end of my seminary career I also approach the zillion pages read mark. But it’s not so bad. I enjoy reading. I don’t always enjoy missing out on time with my family in order to be reading, but I enjoy reading.
As my love for reading has grown, so my love for writing. I love to word smith. It’s so much fun; not throwing the perfect spiral 30 yards into the receiver’s waiting cradled arms as he keeps stride right into the end zone fun, but fun none the less. So, for a while now, my secret desire has been to author a book. The desire’s roots have not dug deep enough to sprout a concept, but the desire is certainly there. I would just like a bunch of people I don’t know read my thoughts and wrestle with them somehow.
Well, well, well, it has happened. But certainly not in the way I would’ve liked. Here’s the skinny.
The other day I received an email from my mom. She attached a couple remarks to a forward she had received. I know, I know, it’s a forward leave it alone. But I couldn’t. Exhibit A:
“I don't usually forward much but this man scares me and I believe he is pulling so many uninformed people into his cause. Please put this on your prayer list.
----- Original Message -----
Dear Friends,
As I was listening to a news program last night, I watched in horror as Barack Obama made the statement with pride, 'we are no longer a Christian nation; we are now a nation of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists'.
As with so many other statements I've heard him (and his wife) make, I never thought I'd see the day that I'd hear something like that from a presidential candidate in this nation. To think our forefathers fought and died for the right for our nation to be a Christian nation--and to have this man say with pride that we are no longer that. How far this nation has come from what our founding fathers intended it to be.
I hope that each of you will do what I'm doing now--send your concerns, written simply and sincerely, to the Christians on your email list. With God's help, and He is still in control of this nation and all else, we can show this man and the world in November that we are, indeed, still a Christian nation!
Please pray for our nation!”
I was one of 7 or 8 people my mom forwarded this to; most of which I knew. I couldn’t let this one slide so I replied to everyone. Basically my intent was to share my agreement with the statement because America is not a Christian nation. We have Christians living here, but I would not categorize America as the shining example of Christianity. Exhibit B:
“That's a tough pill to swallow. I like to think America is still a Christian Nation.
However -at the risk of being excommunicated from the family- I agree with Barack on what is quoted here. I don't know the context from which it came, but my definition of a Christian nation is certainly NOT what America is now. Please. Let's consider the movies that Hollywood is pumping out; the television shows that we adjust our schedules to watch; the addictions to alcohol and prescription drugs; and the porn industry that holds public conventions. These are billion dollar industries. Not to mention the decline in church attendance; the romped crime and corruption; the disregard of the two "greatest commandments"; and I'm sure you can complete this list better than I can...
As Christians, Barack's statement should come as no surprise. In fact, we should have been the ones telling this to him, and anyone else running for political office. We live in a post-Christian America. A lot of people confess to being Christians because their parents are Christians or they live in America, "the Christian Nation", but studies show (just about anything George Barna puts out, various Christianity Today articles) that people are 'grandfathered' in to Christianity. These people do not give God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit any consideration as they go about their daily lives. These people are not out in ‘liberal’ California, or ‘manic’ NYC. They're in Snellville, Loganville, Wilmore, and everywhere else from sea to shining sea. These people are our neighbors, family members, and -there was a time- the one typing this email. I'm not dare going to point fingers. Nor am I writing this with a hostile or cynical tone. I'm simply saying that Christians should no longer assume we have home field advantage. Therefore this is no longer a Christian nation.
Things have changed. A little over 200 years ago people lost their lives to protect the sanctity of the Christian morals of this great nation. I hate that the generations following the advent of our Nation's Independence have watered down our Founding Fathers' zeal and have ignored their passion to die for their patriotic and Christian beliefs -all for the sake of freedom. But it's true. I also hate that the following generations have forgotten and watered down the passion and zeal of Someone 2000 years ago that fought Spiritual battles and died in a temporal one -all for the sake of freedom.
This is not a political plea. It doesn't matter which candidate made that statement. What matters is that he's right. But what are we going to do about it? Are we mad enough to tell our friends not to vote for one or the other candidates, should we send email banter to everyone in our distribution lists, or maybe open our Bibles and find some Scripture to back up our argument? Or, do we prove him wrong? Do we show him what James considered pure/faultless religion: looking after orphans and widows, and keeping ourselves from being polluted by the world? (Js 1.27) Or do we take care of the naked, imprisoned, hungry, thirsty, sick, and alienated? (Mt 25. 31-46)
Friends, never in history has the government successfully exemplified Christianity. That duty lies with the people.
-Kevin”
Here’s the rub. This response, that was only intended to go to my friends and family in Snellville, GA and outlying areas, is now being forwarded by a bunch of people I don’t know. Those people I don’t know are adding their own interpretations. One guy enthusiastically uses my email to warn his friends about “the apostasy in the Church of the Living God” and “the time of the anti-Christ’s new world order.”
Huh? Wait a minute. That's not what I'm talking about.
His interpretation has led me to go back, reread, and second guess what I wrote. Wait minute, I'm not supposed to be the one wrestling; it' s the other people that are supposed to be doing the wrestling. You know, the people I don't know...
Hmm. Who knew sharing our thoughts with a bunch of people we don't know would involve the element of frustration of missinterpretation? The New Testament authors are nudging each other right now. Maybe I'll just stick to reading and throwing spirals.
As my love for reading has grown, so my love for writing. I love to word smith. It’s so much fun; not throwing the perfect spiral 30 yards into the receiver’s waiting cradled arms as he keeps stride right into the end zone fun, but fun none the less. So, for a while now, my secret desire has been to author a book. The desire’s roots have not dug deep enough to sprout a concept, but the desire is certainly there. I would just like a bunch of people I don’t know read my thoughts and wrestle with them somehow.
Well, well, well, it has happened. But certainly not in the way I would’ve liked. Here’s the skinny.
The other day I received an email from my mom. She attached a couple remarks to a forward she had received. I know, I know, it’s a forward leave it alone. But I couldn’t. Exhibit A:
“I don't usually forward much but this man scares me and I believe he is pulling so many uninformed people into his cause. Please put this on your prayer list.
----- Original Message -----
Dear Friends,
As I was listening to a news program last night, I watched in horror as Barack Obama made the statement with pride, 'we are no longer a Christian nation; we are now a nation of Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists'.
As with so many other statements I've heard him (and his wife) make, I never thought I'd see the day that I'd hear something like that from a presidential candidate in this nation. To think our forefathers fought and died for the right for our nation to be a Christian nation--and to have this man say with pride that we are no longer that. How far this nation has come from what our founding fathers intended it to be.
I hope that each of you will do what I'm doing now--send your concerns, written simply and sincerely, to the Christians on your email list. With God's help, and He is still in control of this nation and all else, we can show this man and the world in November that we are, indeed, still a Christian nation!
Please pray for our nation!”
I was one of 7 or 8 people my mom forwarded this to; most of which I knew. I couldn’t let this one slide so I replied to everyone. Basically my intent was to share my agreement with the statement because America is not a Christian nation. We have Christians living here, but I would not categorize America as the shining example of Christianity. Exhibit B:
“That's a tough pill to swallow. I like to think America is still a Christian Nation.
However -at the risk of being excommunicated from the family- I agree with Barack on what is quoted here. I don't know the context from which it came, but my definition of a Christian nation is certainly NOT what America is now. Please. Let's consider the movies that Hollywood is pumping out; the television shows that we adjust our schedules to watch; the addictions to alcohol and prescription drugs; and the porn industry that holds public conventions. These are billion dollar industries. Not to mention the decline in church attendance; the romped crime and corruption; the disregard of the two "greatest commandments"; and I'm sure you can complete this list better than I can...
As Christians, Barack's statement should come as no surprise. In fact, we should have been the ones telling this to him, and anyone else running for political office. We live in a post-Christian America. A lot of people confess to being Christians because their parents are Christians or they live in America, "the Christian Nation", but studies show (just about anything George Barna puts out, various Christianity Today articles) that people are 'grandfathered' in to Christianity. These people do not give God, Jesus, or the Holy Spirit any consideration as they go about their daily lives. These people are not out in ‘liberal’ California, or ‘manic’ NYC. They're in Snellville, Loganville, Wilmore, and everywhere else from sea to shining sea. These people are our neighbors, family members, and -there was a time- the one typing this email. I'm not dare going to point fingers. Nor am I writing this with a hostile or cynical tone. I'm simply saying that Christians should no longer assume we have home field advantage. Therefore this is no longer a Christian nation.
Things have changed. A little over 200 years ago people lost their lives to protect the sanctity of the Christian morals of this great nation. I hate that the generations following the advent of our Nation's Independence have watered down our Founding Fathers' zeal and have ignored their passion to die for their patriotic and Christian beliefs -all for the sake of freedom. But it's true. I also hate that the following generations have forgotten and watered down the passion and zeal of Someone 2000 years ago that fought Spiritual battles and died in a temporal one -all for the sake of freedom.
This is not a political plea. It doesn't matter which candidate made that statement. What matters is that he's right. But what are we going to do about it? Are we mad enough to tell our friends not to vote for one or the other candidates, should we send email banter to everyone in our distribution lists, or maybe open our Bibles and find some Scripture to back up our argument? Or, do we prove him wrong? Do we show him what James considered pure/faultless religion: looking after orphans and widows, and keeping ourselves from being polluted by the world? (Js 1.27) Or do we take care of the naked, imprisoned, hungry, thirsty, sick, and alienated? (Mt 25. 31-46)
Friends, never in history has the government successfully exemplified Christianity. That duty lies with the people.
-Kevin”
Here’s the rub. This response, that was only intended to go to my friends and family in Snellville, GA and outlying areas, is now being forwarded by a bunch of people I don’t know. Those people I don’t know are adding their own interpretations. One guy enthusiastically uses my email to warn his friends about “the apostasy in the Church of the Living God” and “the time of the anti-Christ’s new world order.”
Huh? Wait a minute. That's not what I'm talking about.
His interpretation has led me to go back, reread, and second guess what I wrote. Wait minute, I'm not supposed to be the one wrestling; it' s the other people that are supposed to be doing the wrestling. You know, the people I don't know...
Hmm. Who knew sharing our thoughts with a bunch of people we don't know would involve the element of frustration of missinterpretation? The New Testament authors are nudging each other right now. Maybe I'll just stick to reading and throwing spirals.
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