The Rev's Ramblings

Open House

2006-06-09T13:58:00.000-07:00

Ckick on the link below to find my new blog address. To leave comments, you will need to register ... please do! Because I have no life, your comments often are the only thing that really make my day. Pathetic, but hey . . . it's like, you know? (That sounds so Californian, doesn't it?)

http://www.gregengland.com

Thanks!

Last Blog

2006-06-08T05:43:00.000-07:00

If you tried to do anything on Blogger yesterday, you know the on-going frustration of this sponsor. At the behest (R U impressed?) of my friends, Randy and Brad, I'm going with theobloggers. When we get it all set up I'll give you a link on this site to send you to the new site.

If you're interested in a better blog sponsor (if that's what they are called), you might want to check out theobloggers. You'll have your own domain name and will own all of the content of your blog. And it works! ... unlike Blogger far too much of the time.

See you soon from my new home.

666

2006-06-07T07:00:00.000-07:00

Monday, Janice and I had lunch together and she mentioned that her students (she only has a baker's dozen this year) were all but going into a frenzie over Tuesday's date: 6-6-06. So who said 5th graders were ready to deal with the world's problems anyway? They have enough on their hands just surviving the first Tuesday in June!

I told her for one thing, the date is not 6-6-6. We're not in the year 6AD. We're 2000 years beyond that. But so much for logic and reason. We're talking 5th graders.

Over the years we've seen people beyond 5th grade get just as crazy over numbers and Revelation. Chapter 13:18 reads (NLT): Wisdom is needed to understand this. Let the one who has understanding solve the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man. His number is 666.

Ancient people had a way of using letters of their alphabet as numerical values and would express words in values. For instance, on a wall of ancient Pompeii someone wrote, "I love her whose number is 545." Gematria was the adding up of numerical values of letters in a word or name. The number of the beast is not simply three sixes. Rather, it is 600 + 60 +6. Some have even postulated that the internet is the beast of Revelation (and often trying to work w/ Blogger.com adds some merit to this claim!) because the equivalent of "w" in Hebrew is the 6th letter of their alphabet. So www would be 666. But to add the value of the letter "waw" (or "vav") three times would not be 666 (six hundred sixty-six). It would be 18. (6+6+6) Those of you who know my math skills are probably picking yourselves up off the floor and declaring this day a holiday!

To think that John, who wrote long after the year 6AD, was referring to a date in June of 2006 is nothing less than stupid ... unless you are a 5th grader or a prophetic scholar! Then it's perfectly reasonable that yesterday something quite ominous occurred and we are too simple to have understood. If so, just slap me and call me "simple" ... or "stupid."

No Comment Needed

2006-06-06T18:57:00.000-07:00

You get those plain envelopes in the mail that you suspect contain another offer for a credit card with a $50,000 limit, don't you? But every now and then it actually contains a legitimate replacement card for your ATM / Debit VISA. It's very important that you make sure the "replacement" card received actually replaces the card you just shredded! No further comment other than we're awaiting our new ATM cards to go with our new VISA cards.

I'll sure be glad when this phase of mental fog is over and we can return to thinking with the clarity we had in our younger years.

2006-06-06T06:35:00.000-07:00

For many years, Janice and I have wanted to go over to Temecula, California, for the annual Temecula Valley Balloon and Wine Festival. Problem: We never seemed to figure out the date until after the fact. Speaking of fact(s), here are some balloon facts to jump start some potentially boring conversations today:

FUN FACTS:
Sept. 19, 1783 - first hot air balloon launch with a sheep, a duck and a rooster as passengers. It flew for 20 minutes over Paris. Those whacky Frenchmen!

November of 1783, first manned balloon flight. In Paris.

1785 - first long distance balloon flight over the English Channel.

Jan. 7, 1793 - first balloon flight in North America. Launch was witnessed by George Washington.

August, 1932 - first manned flight to reach the stratosphere. Reached a height of over 52,000 feet.

1978 - first balloon flight to cross the Atlantic Ocean.

1981 - first flight to cross the Pacific Ocean.

1999 - first hot air balloon flight to circumvent the earth.

Aren't you glad you stopped by today? You are so much more informed now than just a minute ago! So this past Saturday Josh, Jan and I got up about 6am ... had breakfast and drove out to where the balloons were being launched. There were a few dozen balloons in the air, a few dead ones on the ground and others both going up and coming down. All in all, it was a fascinating morning as we'd never been so close to hot air balloons.

Before I Googled and found the interesting facts, Josh wondered how balloons were flown prior to learning how to compress gasses. (I did a little research on that as well and it seems we've been able to compress gasses for a LONG time.) Not knowing that, I replied they were powered by the forerunners to televangelists. Where else would man find such a concentration of hot air? Actually, the trend is to use nothing more than hot air (hence the name, hot air balloon) rather than the gasses used earlier. They proved to be far too dangerous for flight.

As you can see, it doesn't take much to entertain people our age!

A Good Kind of Tired

2006-06-05T06:21:00.000-07:00

What a busy weekend! First, we spent the night on a vibrating bed in Siberia. Sort of. Actually, we were in Josh's apartment and he keeps it so cold, Janice shivered all night ... providing me a most relaxing vibrating-effect bed. I woke Josh up Saturday telling him we needed to take his mama to the hospital. His eyes popped wide open, "What's wrong?" I replied, "She's frozen solid!" After breakfast, we headed out to the annual Temecula Wine and Hot Air Balloon Festival. More on that tomorrow....

The drive over Friday afternoon was an event in and of itself. Thinking we got away before the traffic nightmare began, we quickly discovered we were so-o-o-o-o-o wrong. It's only about 85 miles from Long Beach, but it took us 3 hours! And, we were in Jessica's Civic, which is a five-speed, so add to everything else the never-ending clutch work. I was exhausted when we reached Josh's home. For about an hour we didn't get over 10mph in stand-still traffic. Just one of the many advantages of living in Southern California. Same trip home took about 90 minutes.

After spending the morning with Josh in 101 degree heat, Jan and I headed home to a much cooler Long Beach temperature of about 97 to celebrate Grad Nite with our church family. Josh and Heather came over and Jessica came home, as we are very close to our two graduates this year. Joanna (JoJo) and Morgan (Morgie) are almost like our own daughters. Fun evening. Great food! Lots of laughs. More than a few tears. And air conditioning!

Yesterday morning I preached lesson #7 in our journey through Romans. Chapter 3. Salvation by Faith, Part 2. Expressed many of the same thoughts (though I didn't steal them from him) of what my good friend, Steve (The Puckster) Puckett, wrote in one of his recent blogs. For many years I've thought our "doctrine" on salvation was shakey at best, if not down right spurious. We've been so focused on "our" response and "our" part in salvation, as if we have anything to offer God. Trying to respond to Acts 2:38 has been our battle cry: What must I do? The only thing we bring to the process is our sinfulness! Paul is rather emphatic in Romans 3 (and elsewhere) on the biblical doctrine of salvation by grace through faith. It began as a covenant with Abraham, only God's name was the only signature on the contract (so to speak). It's all about God's gift of Jesus. God's satisfaction with and resting in what Jesus did. God's justification of us based on Jesus. No wonder Paul asks, "So what do we have to brag about?" (Ro.3:27-28). I suppose we could boast about receiving an undeserved gift, but isn't that rather pathetic in comparison to God's love when we were so unlovable?

Then to have one of our elders publicly thank me and affirm the teaching (as well as many of the church family) is always a serendipity. I am blessed in many ways to be a part of this church family. For instance . . .

Our church family treated Josh and Heather to a luncheon / gift shower. And they were most generous both in gifts and in attendance. We were blessed with having Heather's mother, sister, and grandmother with us for worship and the afternoon events. Josh and Heather (hereafter referred to as J&H in future blogs) filled two cars with gifts. I'm talking trunk and back seat.

Five weeks from yesterday is the event. I've thought all along that I would be able to officiate their wedding without emotional breakdown. Almost bragged to others about it. But this gift-shower brought some significant lumps to this old daddy's throat, so now I'm not so sure. But it'll be all family there, so if I happen to shed some tears, then it will be with people who understand. And when it comes to my kids, I'm not above being an emotional whimp.

After spending the afternoon with Jessica ... doing a bit of shopping for the remainder of one of our wedding gifts to J&H ... dinner with dear friends ... Jan and I completed the weekend filling out loan apps for Jessica's final year of college. My life's goal now is to live long enough to pay off these college loans!

So I finished the weekend tired. But a good kind of tired. As always, thanks for stopping by. Have a blessed week.

National Accordion Awareness Month

2006-06-02T06:15:00.000-07:00

I'm embarrassed (if not humiliated) to say I failed to inform you that yesterday (Thursday) began National Accordion Awareness Month. Even I didn't know this until informed by a friend who is a college English professor. (Boy those guys sure know a lot!)

He even shared a joke:

Q: Do you know the difference between an accordion and an onion?
A: Nobody cries when you cut up an accordion!

Several years ago at our church youth camp, one of the counselors told me she plays accordion. I didn't know any non-Hungarians who played the accordion, and certainly no Southern California girls ... not the girls the Beach Boys sang about. I asked where she bought her accordion as I'd never seen one on sale in any reputable Guitar Center, Sam Ash or the local music stores where I worship. She told me her dad bought it from a door-to-door accordion salesman.

Say it ain't so! I wonder just how many door-to-door accordion salespersons there are in this world? I wonder if they are unionized? I wonder why I wonder such things?

Though we've already missed a day of celebration, please find your nearest accordionist and tell him or her you are actually aware of their instrument! And I'll try and stay more on top of the hottest news stories.

Today is also National Donut Day. Honest! That leaves absulotely (sorry about that misspelling ... it's hard to type with all the sugar glaze on my fingers) no question as to how to celebrate that June is accordion awareness month.

2006-06-01T06:49:00.000-07:00

Welcome to June! Hard to believe we've entered the 6th month of '06. Seventeen days from now is Father's Day. I'm presently reading a couple of books in the evenings: Tim Russert's Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons (a follow-up to his best-seller, Big Russ & Me) and Karen Spears Zacharias' Hero Mama: A Daughter Remembers the Father She Lost in Vietnam - and the Mother Who Held Her Family Together.

Since I have nothing better to blog today, I'm going to share a letter from Russert's book. A story I think just warm the heart. You be the judge.

Brian Baker shares this memory of his dad, Bob.

My dad is the biggest New York Giants fan alive and has had season tickets for over forty years. In 1990, he took me to the NFC Championship game against the 49ers. He had four tickets, and he planned on selling the other two.

We got to the game early to tailgate, and as we were pulling into the parking lot, I noticed that tickets were being scalped for hundreds of dollars. My father was going to make a killing, which was good because business had been difficult and he could really use the extra money.

We tailgated for a couple of hours, during which Dad must have had twenty-five different opportunities to cash in on his tickets, but he made no effort at all to sell them. I realized that he would probably get top dollar closer to kickoff, and I watched him carefully, hoping to learn a thing or two.

As the start of the game approached we headed for the stadium entrance, and my father continued to pass up selling opportunities. I remember thinking that maybe he was getting greedy. But he was looking around and finally saw what he wanted - a father and a young boy who needed tickets. My father explained that he had two extras and was just asking what he paid for them.

"Are you serious?" the man asked.

"Yes," my father replied. "Now let's go in before we're late for the game."

I did learn something that day - something about having principles and doing what is right. I know today that my father got more enjoyment out of seeing that father and son watch the game right next to us than if he had sold each ticket for a small fortune. In doing so, he taught me a lesson I'll never forget. [pp.39 - 40]

What about you and your dad ... any lessons learned that you'd want to share?

Our Story

2006-05-31T06:15:00.000-07:00

A Welch shepherd was presented with an orphaned lamb. Unable to find a nursing ewe to accept the lamb, he took it under his care ... waiting for just the right moment / event.

Within a few days that moment came. A dead lamb was found and the shepherd immediately skinned it and placed the skin of the dead lamb over the orphan. He took the orphan to the mother of the dead lamb, who sniffed it a couple of times and immediately accepted it and began nursing it.

That is our story. That's justification. I, of myself and in myself, cannot be accepted by God, so Jesus - the Lamb of God - died for me and I am clothed with him. Accepted by God no less than if I were Jesus himself.

Now if that doesn't make your day ... what can?

A Wonderful Read

2006-05-30T06:05:00.000-07:00

I recently picked up a New York Times #1 bestseller by John Grogan - Marley and Me, about the world's worst dog. An incorrigible yellow lab. I could hardly put it down because every page had my dog, Chipper, written all over it. Though Chipper is a far better behaved dog (if my friends who personally know Chipper can believe that) than Marley, she still resembles the mut of this book far too much for comfort.

And yet, as I read and laughed my way through the book, I found myself loving Chipper more and more. I am in a vast fraternity of people who own worthless animals ... and love them dearly.

My earliest memory of a family pet was my uncle's dog, Rascal. I've been told Rascal and I were tight friends. I was born on my uncle's 15th birthday and until his untimely death at a rather young age, he was my best friend. We had a lot of plans for our life together as best friends and neighbors.

Later we had an assortment of muts ... I remember Fiesty in Florida giving birth to her pups, born under the porch. A rain came through and drowned all but two of them. Another uncle was visiting at the time and gave mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to the survivors. We couldn't figure out what to name the one we kept, so we named it "Nothing." Both pups eventually wondered off never to be seen again. But Fiesty stayed with us until her untimely death at a carnival. We were living in Montgomery, Alabama, at the time and she'd followed my younger brother to a shopping mall carnival and got under the ride he was on, which crushed her to death. That happened over 40 years ago and I have a lump in my throat writing about it.

Then Janice and I eventually got our own Rascal. Solid black with four white feet and a white diamond on her chest. We loved her almost a decade before she had to be put to sleep with cancer eating away at her. This Rascal could jump like no other dog I'd seen. She would place biscuits under the clothes line at our house in Alabama and then hide in the bushes just behind the clothes line. When birds would come peck away at the food, she would wait until they sat on the line, then she would jump straight up and grab her a bird! The trouble with Rascal was if she ever got free of the fenced yard, we had to ask a neighbor to call her home. She would come to a neighbor but would ignore us, knowing if we caught her she was going back to certain incarceration. It was very difficult to have her put to sleep.

Shortly thereafter came Fluff. The only survivor of a litter of pups and so fat she could not walk more than a few steps when she would fall over. So named because she was just a lump of yellow fur when we got her. She was definitely Jessica's dog and was ferociously aggressive toward anyone who seemed a threat to Jessica. For that matter, she was very aggressive toward anyone outside our family! After being a part of our family for a decade, she got into some poison about three years ago and we had to have her put to sleep. One of the worst Sunday afternoons of my life.

Enter Chipper. You've read enough about her already, so I'll spare you the details. She is the most interesting dog I've had ... and as untrainable and as strong and as goofy and as dopey and as conniving a thief as she is, I don't think I could love her any more.

I say all that to say if you want a light-hearted (until the last chapter), wonderful read this summer, get a copy of Marley and Me. I'd let you read mine, but I plan to read it again. And probably again.

A Self-Congratulatory Blog

2006-05-29T06:37:00.000-07:00

This is why I want on the funeral director end of the business rather than the cemetery end ... occupational hazards!
If that print is too small, it reads: Congratulations! You have passed the Funeral Director examination administered by the Cemetery and Funeral Bureau on April 26, 2006. No numerical scores are available....

But here's the kicker. The State of California says once I pay my $200 fee (which I sent in over the weekend), I am qualified to do the work of a funeral director which is basically to transport, store, prep and dispose human remains. In reality, I don't have a clue how to do all that stuff! I just memorized pages and pages and pages of mortuary law to the point I could pass the test. Now I must begin the process of actually learning that end of the trade. At least I have the qualifications to do it! Or so says the state of California.

Tools?

2006-05-26T06:47:00.000-07:00

Rick Warren's "Pastor.com" website featured an article by Sam Simmons describing the 35 neccesary skills needed by a pastor to effectively minister in the 21st century. Not to undermine anything described below as they are all helpful skills, but I find it rather interesting that we've become so focused on such "wisdom" when the most successful ministers (not necessarily preachers or pastors) I've ever seen or known were simply those who had an open heart to the indwelling Holy Spirit and allowed Jesus to live through them.

I play a few instruments. Not so well that I will impress anyone, but well enough to enjoy entertaining myself, and well enough my wife has been gracious to endure the purchase of far more than I can play at any given time! Over the years I've come across many musicians who were technically brilliant, and I've learned from them. But occasionally there is that one who is truly gifted and the music flows unlike anything I've ever heard from a technician, and I can only listen in awe. I think the same is true in ministry. Jesus called the least likely, least trained guys to follow him (they all probably flunked out of Torah school or would have been following some rabbi) and yet they literally turned the world upside down for the Kingdom.

I listened to Bob Russell speak at Pepperdine. He went to a Louisville, KY, church of 120 members 4 decades ago and today they have over 20,000. He dazzles you, but not with typical seminar stuff about effective goal setting and mission statements and all the plans of action that have been proven to work. He keeps it rather simple: teaching people about Jesus and living it out in his life. And maybe he has all 35 skills listed below, but my guess is it was more a giftedness and blessing from God than developing necessary skills for ministering in the 21st century.

God isn't obligated to bless everything I do in my attempts to minister in his name. But when I join what he is blessing ... WOW! And it has nothing to do with what I bring to the table in skills assessments. It's all about God at work in the least of us.

But who am I to say? I sort of found my way into ministry through a back door and never got caught!

Worship skills

Leads and/or works with other people in planning and facilitating worship.

Performs baptisms, weddings, funerals, and other ordinances of the church in an appropriate manner.

Designs creative worship experiences that involve music, media, and the arts.

Educates the congregation in personal, family, and corporate worship.

Communicates Scripture in a way that leads an intended audience to worship and to experience life transformation.

Leads a congregation in prayer and a prayer ministry.

Practices and leads the church in practicing worship through stewardship of life and resources.

Fellowship skills

Builds and maintains healthy relationships with others.

Sensitive to the needs and feelings of others.

Develops relationships within and external to the ministry organization for accountability and personal support.

Functions effectively with professional staff and church members and works with others in resolving conflict in the Body of Christ.

Listens and responds in ways that let people know they have been heard.

Develops small groups and leads them to birth new groups.

Leads the church in developing a process for connecting new members into the life and purposes of the church.

Discipleship skills

Interprets the biblical text and applies its truth to life situations.

Effectively employs Bible study tools and basic biblical language skills for personal Bible study and Bible teaching.

Evaluates current ministry programs and issues in light of church history and theology.

Leads the church in planning, conducting, and evaluating a comprehensive program of discipleship and Christian maturity.

Demonstrates a vibrant spiritual life through the implementation of spiritual disciplines including prayer, Bible study, holiness of life, and communion with God.

Models the role of an effective teacher and communicator.

Leads in developing, evaluating, and administering curriculum plans; functions as resource person in discipleship curriculum.

Ministry skills

Exercises the administrative skills of strategic planning, organizing, leading, and evaluating the work of ministry that leads to achievement of defined goals and the mission of the New Testament church.

Provides spiritual guidance in helping others analyze how God has shaped them for ministry through spiritual gifts, heart for ministry, abilities, personality, and experiences.

Recruits, trains, and supervises individuals to fulfill the purposes of the church.

Assesses the needs of the ministry community, designs appropriate actions to meet those needs, and effectively markets the church’s ministry in the community.

Develops and administers budgets for ministry programs and organizations; reads and prepares financial reports.

Provides pastoral care and counseling for the sick, hurting, and grieving, and makes appropriate referrals to other sources of professional help.

Demonstrates godly humility and sacrificial love for those in the church.

Evangelism skills

Communicates biblical truth through preaching, personal witness, teaching, speaking, writing, music, and other ways as may be appropriate to fulfill the Great Commission.

Leads the church in an effective program of evangelism; plans and conducts a program of community witness.

Leads the church in planning and conducting cross-cultural missions.

Builds relationships with unbelievers that lead to opportunities to share the Gospel.

Interprets the culture and plans appropriate strategies for sharing the Gospel in that culture.

Respects persons of different cultural, social, and religious backgrounds.

Articulates the Christian message and contrasts that message with other worldviews and major world religions.

Road Trip

2006-05-25T06:29:00.000-07:00

Nothing much exciting happened yesterday (Wednesday) as I spent most of the day working out a sermon. Actually, that was pretty exciting to me but I'll not ruin Sunday for those of our flock who read this. What am I thinking? TAYLOR HICKS is the new American Idol. Straight from Birmingham, Alabama!

Our daughter is quite the socializer. So much so that she and three other friends left early this morning to drive to Minnesota to attend the wedding of two friends they met their freshman year. How's that for friendship? A 27-hour drive IN OUR CAR! Pray for them. Seriously! And pray my car ... never mind, that seems all too shallow. They plan to drive it straight through both going and coming. Monday evening will not come too soon, when I get the phone call that they are home and safe.

I called Sacramento yesterday afternoon to ask about our funeral director exam status. They will not tell us whether or not we passed, but the lady did say the letters were mailed out that day, so we should know something today or tomorrow.

JOSHUA PASSED! Because he paid for his license fee on the front end, his name came up on the CA Funeral Director's website as a licensed funeral director. He didn't have to wait for the mail ... only to have them grade his exam and post his license number. Because I did not pay (can we all say "cheap"?), I have to wait for my news by mail.

How is it in the computer age we can take an exam on a scantron card and have to wait a month for results? I would think they could have a scantron reader in the exam room and tell you on the spot how you did. Maybe my expectations are too high.

Patience may be a virtue, but it ain't one of mine!

Harvest ... maybe?

2006-05-24T06:44:00.000-07:00

She first called while I was at Pepperdine so I told her I'd call her back. But I inadvertently erased her voicemail and number. No problem ... she's a salesperson and will call back. Salespersons always call back if you leave them an inch of room.

I was right! She called back. We set up an appointment to talk and though she was late, she did keep the appointment. First, she was fascinated by my office, which is basically a shrine to the Three Stooges. I was impressed as most women, by genetic predisposition hate the Stooges. This is no ordinary woman.

When we finally sat down to talk, she began to confess that she was a Christian. Former Catholic. Didn't know exactly what kind of Christian, but definitely a Christian. And for the next 45 minutes I was her priest and my office her confessional. She just poured out her story ... and then apologized for not discussing what she came by to discuss. Her profession is a sister profession to the mortuary work I do part-time and she wanted me to use her as a reference should I have the occasion.

Then the conversation turned back to her childhood church experiences and a very heavy dose of sermons on the "wrath of God." Which just happened to be the last two sermons I preached out of Romans 1 and 2! So we talked a little about that subject in the context of God's character rather than the context of a diety who finally decided we'd gone too far and decided to zap someone to make an example to the rest of us. That his wrath is as consistent with his character as is his love. She replied, "I guess I'm basically a selfish person and I just want the love, feel good part of God." Some people never figure that one out.

She was relieved to hear that perspective. Basically her life is one of "make me happy and keep me happy." She wants a religion that will support that theme. Feel good theology ... as if somehow that is the end result of the "once and for all" sacrifice of Jesus at Calvary. Toward the end of our time together, she asked, "So how would I be received in your church?" Well, it ain't like attending a Unity church, but I didn't actually make that comment ... only thought it. I assured her that we will be intentional in honoring Jesus in our assembly and in our lives and the message will be centered on some practical aspect of working that out in our lives or in our attitudes and understanding of the Bible. She requested more information and seemed genuinely interested in "giving us a try."

I tried to plant some seeds, but mostly I just listened. She even said she felt so much better having talked with me. Sometimes that graduate degree in counseling pays off a little, but I'm much more interested in showing her that Jesus is real and resides in the lives of people. Not to make them feel good, but to transform them into what they were designed to be all along.

We'll see . . . . but I honestly came away from that hour thinking it was a divine appointment.

[See Tom Marker's blog today ... funny!.]

Thirty One ...

2006-05-23T06:50:00.000-07:00

Thirty-one years ago today.

Thirty-one years later (sort of ... this picture is a
couple of years old and doesn't include our Heather)

As seen through the eyes of a cartoonist

Probably in another 31 years!

[Note: Check out Janice's blog from time to time. Though she doesn't blog every day, she will blog from time to time ... and has a new one up today.]

Sometimes . . .

2006-05-22T06:31:00.000-07:00

LS moved from Long Beach to Honduras almost a year ago. It was strictly a move of faith. She had no job. No income. No full support. Just a desire to minister to people there and open her life to trusting God to provide. Ten months later, she inspired us with her story in our adult Bible class Sunday morning.

A couple of things stood out (to me) in her presentation. One, the struggle of the church there to be relevant in a Central American culture. The local church is supported by congregations from the deep south and, therefore, is expected to look like a church from the deep south rather than a church in the capitol city of Honduras. I'm not sure what a culturally relevant church would look like there, but I doubt it would mirror a church from the deep south.

Unfortunately, in its short history, the church she ministers through has already had a split! Sometimes I wonder if that's what we do best ... fight and split? That distressed me. To think support might be held back because they decide in their culture to do something different than a southern, bible belt church of Christ might do in say, Tennessee or Alabama. It would seem to me those people planted a system rather than a Savior and the "converts" are now tied to methods ... often at the expense of the message.

But the other thing that stood out was actually encouraging to me. When asked how she came to have such a heart for missions, she said it was mainly due to the experiences gained from her youth group at church. She also cited the influence of a godly mother, attending a Christian high school, and the stream of people in which she immersed herself while a student at Pepperdine.

Sometimes I hear things from the second paragraph and forget that things from the above paragraph happen as well. There are times when we actually do have a deep and positive impact on a life! An impact that renders a servant-hearted life that glorifies God and truly walks by faith.

Da Vinci

2006-05-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

No, I haven't read the book and probably will not see the movie. Not that I'm super holy or anything like that, it's just that I have no desire to read the book and can't afford today's movie prices. When it comes out on DVD, I will probably get it on a Monday or Tuesday when rentals are a buck-fifty.

I did see the director / cast interviewed on NBC's Today Show earlier this week. I've always liked Tom Hanks' movies (though not his politics) as well as Ron Howard's work. Sometimes I wish Ron had remained Opie Taylor or Richie Cunningham. He was the all-American kid in those shows. I prefer that Ron Howard to the one who directs movies and is a major player in one of the more God-less industries in America!

Am I upset about the book / movie? No. Not at all. People are becoming filthy rich on it and that's what this country is all about. We may have been founded on better principles, but we've long since drifted from them. Will the book / movie undermine people's faith? If it does, I would suspect the depth of that faith. Will it cause people to question what they've been taught? We should always question what we've been taught. Will it cause some to further investigate Jesus? I hope so. Should we jump on the Da Vinci bandwagon and hope it leads to record numbers of conversions? The Passion of the Christ didn't do much for that and I doubt this will either.

I don't think I need to read the book to answer people's questions, should I be asked any questions. Bottom line: God remains God and His Word remains His Word regardless of this or the next book / movie that attempts to undermine faith. We can do virtually nothing to stem the tide of popularity here ... but we can allow Jesus to live in and through us and be a light in the darkness. And I think that's been our mission all along.

Another Year

2006-05-18T06:36:00.000-07:00

She will probably be mortified that I put this picture on my site, but it has always been a favorite of mine (though the original is much better than this scan), and I'm fairly confident I can get forgiveness!

People who first meet Janice will eventually make the comment that she is always smiling. I think that surprises them because they notice she is also married to me! Be that as it may, I've known this lady since 10th grade in high school. Dated her four years. Was engaged to her three more years, and will have been married to her 31 years next week. I've never known her not to smile! She has the most positive, faith-driven perspective on life that I've ever seen in a person. Always fun to be around and will turn any situation into something that will bring a smile, if not full blown laughter. I think that is one reason we have been so successful in our years together. Opposites really do attract!

Today is her birthday and I am the most fortunate man alive to share her love and life. Together we have the two most wondeful children God ever blessed to a couple. Our friends have enriched our lives and we trust we have done the same for theirs. I love going home each day because I go home to her!

Cheers ... anyone?

2006-05-17T06:32:00.000-07:00

A young lady recently mentioned to me an interest in training to become a bartender. She explained that people are searching for something to fill their emptiness and come back time and again to fill it with alcohol ... what better place to position one's self to share about Jesus than a bar? Sounds good on the front. As a matter of fact, I once knew an ex-alcoholic-turned-preacher who said he converted more people in bars than any church in that area had ever converted. And he had the numbers to back up his claim. But work in a bar? Serving alcohol? A Christian? My mind was racing to find arguments but found myself all but speechless.

Knowing the overall character of her life as well as her missional outlook (far more than my own), I knew that deep down she was pursuing this to be Jesus where Jesus would probably be were he physically among us today. After all, Jesus didn't hang much with the religious crowd. Not for long. Quite honestly, I'm convinced he would not be very impressed with nor welcomed in most of our churches. He was far more comfortable around the lower dregs of society (not suggesting that people who drink are the dregs of society), for that was where he was needed and where he was most accepted. You would find him quite at home with lepers ... women (even the more notorious ones) ... adulteresses ... beggars ... tax collectors ... fishermen ... demon-possessed ... Samaritans ... and known sinners. Which explains why His converts normally didn't come from a synagugue post-sermon "invitation." Seems when he did preach in the synagogues, they always wanted to run him off, if not kill him!

So, void of any counter-argument that didn't seem all but irrelevant (though very strong from a "religious" perspective) I can only pray she stays true to her desire to be missional to those seeking fulfillment in all the wrong places. I do admire her for wanting to be Christ to people most of us want to avoid ... at least avoid on their home turf. After all, there does seem to be something very biblical about going into the world to beckon others out of the world. And for the most part, that ain't gonna happen inside the walls of our church buildings.

Bud

2006-05-16T07:16:00.000-07:00

Bud is a former elder here at Long Beach, having served in that office for about 40 years! One of the finest men I've ever met. If the Lord allows me length of years, I want to grow older like Bud. He has always had such a teachable spirit. He has consistently grown in grace and is such an encourager. His communion devotionals are always special as Bud is quite the church historian here. While my experience has been that people tend to become set in their ways and unmovable, Bud has always intentionally remained open-minded. He was truly a preacher's elder!

When I was a candidate for the pulpit minister here Bud, and fellow-elder Bill, flew to Florida to check me out on my home turf. On the Saturday of that weekend, he wore a sweatshirt with the Budweiser logo on it and the phrase, This Bud's For You! I thought that was pretty open minded for a coC elder and I decided then that I liked this guy. Over the almost 14 years I've known Bud, I've come to love and respect him as I have very few men.

He's also had heart problems over the years, including open heart surgery as well as several angioplasty procedures. A couple of years ago, he went to the ER with chest pains and actually coded (died) on the table. Two different occasions.

We got a call from his wife that he'd been having some pains Friday morning and was told by his cardiologist to go to the ER to be checked out. As it turns out, he was having an irregular heartbeat, which doctors were able to stabilize and he should go home by the time you are reading this. But it gave us a scare.

On the way to the hospital, having chest pains that were worsening, he took the time to stop and fill the car with gas before prices went up again! Or maybe he did it so Daphna wouldn't have to bother with it. Granted, that was not the brightest decision ever made, but that's Bud. Thursday, he brought me a list of all the people who were members at Long Beach and had died since the merger in the early 1989s. While visiting him in the ER he said, "I got to thinking I might be the first edit you'd have to make to that list!"

I'm writing about Bud because today (Monday, May 15) is his 57th anniversary with one of the sweetest Christian ladies I've ever known. Selfishly I want Bud around for many years to come. Our church needs models of commitment and kindness and grace like Bud and Daphna!

Youch! &@&#X!%

2006-05-15T06:23:00.000-07:00

Three hole paper punch. Heavy duty. Will bore through 15 - 20 sheets of paper with no effort. I've used it thousands of times over the years. So one would think it a near impossibility to be injured by something so familiar. This is where I stand apart from the crowd!

Friday night while experiencing a cleaning frenzy, I took a manual for a mixing console (sound equipment) over to the office to punch holes and put it away in a notebook. I knew it would take a little extra force to punch through all the pages, so I hit it. Hard. And somehow I had the middle fingertip of my right hand under the handle. When I pulled my hand away in shock, blood was spurting and I'd either cut the end of my finger up to the nail, then under the nail and over to the side of it ... or, I just blew out the end of my finger in that configuration with sheer pressure. I'm not sure which, but I am sure that within a minute, the shock wore off and I was one hurting puppy! People asked me what I said??? I guess being a southern-born preacher, they expect something colorful and secular! At the moment I couldn't even think of ancient biblical cities that sound like &@*&#X!%* to scream out!

But that's not the end of the story. About 10 years ago I was building a new frame for the back porch and dropped a 16 foot 2 x 8 on my foot. The impact exploded my big toe and broke the next two toes. That big toenail has never been right. It grows back, but never attaches to the pad of the toe. Recently it grew back as an ingrown nail and has given me months of pain. I've walked with that toe curled up to keep it from pressing against my shoe, and often wear sandals to alleviate some of the pain. I've had a doctor cut it back a time or two but it keeps growing back so I just try to ignore it ... except it hurts all the time.

So, while I was in excruciating pain (throbbing) from blowing out the end of my finger, I asked my wife if she would go ahead and trim that toenail. I figured if I'm going to be in that much pain anyway, I might as well get something productive out of it. That's the way I figure things when I'm in a lot of pain! That nail can grow at least an eighth to a quarter inch thick and is very difficult to cut. I've actually used side wire cutters on it in the past. So while I gritted my teeth and wanted a stick to bite down on, Janice trimmed about half of that toenail off. And for the first time in months, I can wear a shoe without pain. I no longer have to curl my toe to walk. And it can touch the covers at night without sending me through the ceiling with pain!

My finger still hurts a lot ... but my toe sure feels better! I just hope I don't have to punch the finger again the next time my toenail needs trimming! Have a great Monday! I'm going to try and stay away from all things mechanical.

On another note: I took Randy's suggestion and expanded my Friday blog into some personal reflections for Mother's Day. I'd done two sermons during the week and Keith sent me a third one on Friday, but this worked. At least I have three sermons to fall back on for future Mother's Day sermons.

A former member told me after the assembly, "I really liked the way you shared your heart with us this morning." Then he added, "It sure was better than listening to you try to preach." I'm glad he's a former member!

Enjoyed a wonderful day with all three of our children, then Jan and I went with very dear friends to an ApologetiX concert. Excellent band! LOUD, but a good evening of music.

They take rock music and write Christian lyrics to parody the music. I have most of their CDs and enjoy them very much. If you haven't done so already, "hey! check 'em out, Dawg!"

Mother's Day

2006-05-12T07:01:00.000-07:00

For some reason, I get a lot of sermon ideas while showering, and I don't know why. Nor do I want any sarcastic suggestions from this community! :) Life is tough enough.

But the other day I was thinking about Mother's Day and what I might preach ... about the only thing I came up with was a title: When Your Mother Is Dead. As much of an attention-grabber as that title might be (or not), I just couldn't come up with much to wrap around it. Not anything anyone would want to hear.

That idea came to mind because this will be my first year not to be able to call mom or send a card or gift. Had I known last year that within 7 weeks of Mother's Day we would be burying mom, I would have cleared my calendar and taken some time to go home. Funny, mom was one of those people who didn't need anything else. Had no place to display it, hang it, or store it. So we struggled on birthdays, mother's day and Christmas as to what we might give her. Now that I no longer have that struggle, I miss it.

Mom was by no means perfect, but she loved us unconditionally, and she was a good mom, considering the offspring she had to work with (referring mainly to my siblings, of course)! She put up with a lot of junk from Dad over the years, though their final years seemed to be good ones. We moved a lot. Dad was more of a dreamer than a settled down husband / father. Mom fed and clothed us with on an extremely tight budget. Always managed to make Christmas and birthdays special. She wanted more than anything for her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren to love Jesus and take seriously our call to the Kingdom of God ... a desire that has not been answered favorably by everyone upon whom it was prayed.

Mom truly was a prayer warrior and I was often the subject. We shared hours and hours on the phone (with me living either hundreds or thousands of miles away). Laughter. Tears. Concerns. Joys. Sadness. Dreams, both realized and shattered. She loved to hear about the children and Janice. She never failed to ask what I'd preached the previous Sunday and to share what was taught at Creekside (her church family), and to ask about people here she'd grown to love over the years. She loved to tell about her latest grandchild adventure - usually the younger grandchild at the time. She loved her church family and was loved by them.

Mom suffered a lot in the last years of her life, perhaps more than most of us really knew. She left a note for us to find after her death telling us that upon finding that note, she would finally be free of pain and would be breathing freely and have perfect vision! I watched her struggle for breath so hard I would leave the room to cry and pray for her. That's not much of a life, and it was her life for many years. I would ask if she had a good day and she would reply, "I've had good moments today."

We still have Jan's mom, Nana. But she doesn't remember a lot these days and sharing time with her is more of a caretaker role than a relationship between Mom and children. Though she is still around, we miss the Nana of yesteryear, but we're thankful she is doing as well as she is.

But I'm missing Mom this year as Mother's Day approaches. My sermon will probably be bland. I've done two sermons so far this week and have not been happy with either one. Sometimes I just wish we could skip mother's / father's day sermons. My shepherds said I could do that, but I feel the moms in our church deserve something ... far more than anything I'll give them, but they deserve recognition and honor, so I'll give it a shot.

I hope my children have a clue just how precious their mother is to them. I hope they will slow down now and then to show Janice how much they love her. I hope they will have opportunities in life to come spend time with her, even when it may not seem convenient. And I hope they'll think highly of their daddy from time to time as well, but I'm more concerned that they shower their mama with the love she deserves for she continues to shower them with love!

My grandmother's saddest comment to me was that her children (the ones who lived out of town) seldom took time to just come and visit. Not to stop by on their way to or from somewhere else, but to intentionally come to spend time with her. I know mom regretted not doing that for her mother and experienced some of it in her own life from her own. It's tough to do that, but mom regretted the times we just didn't take the time to come visit. We were too busy. And now it's too late ... and most of what kept us away simply wasn't that important in retrospect.

If your mother is still alive I hope you are treasuring the moments you have together ... and are being very intentional about making those moments together!

Oh, the picture? Just did want to get all that mushy this time.

The Letter: A Response

2006-05-11T06:46:00.000-07:00

On April 28, I blogged about a letter received in our church office. A couple had posed 46 questions to be answered to help them find a congregation with which to worship. I had all intentions of ignoring it or, at best, saving it for some future sermon illustration. It was pretty obvious that to their way of thinking they were sound and we would be labeled unsound.

But my friend, Keith, uttered heresy: He said he would answer it! My first thought was, "Why bother?" Then he said, "If God could change a legalist like Paul, he may be using this letter to change them."

Where do these younger preachers gain such wisdom over us mature, experienced geezers?

As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't shake his challenge ... and decided to at least mimmick his maturity and answer the letter.

Here is my response:

I was on vacation when your letter of April 25 arrived, and then was out of town attending the Pepperdine Bible Lectures last week, so I am just now able to respond.

I will not attempt to respond to all of the questions you posed, but I didn’t want to just ignore your letter.

The Long Beach congregation has been meeting in various locations in this area for just over 100 years. We are shepherded by elders and served by servant-hearted men and women. Besides myself, we have a full-time minister to our youth. Our desire is to honor God in all that we do, both as a church family and as individuals.

We are saved by the grace of Jesus Christ and his completed (perfect) sacrifice on Calvary and resurrection on Sunday morning. We can never please God through perfect performance nor perfect obedience. If so, there would have been no need for the cross.

Should you visit the Long Beach church, you’ll find people who are loving and generous and God-centered. We assemble to rejoice in our salvation and express the praises to God that flow from such redemption. The sermons are almost always expository (textual rather than topical) in nature. The singing is led by a five-person praise team. We are involved in various mission works and we try to be Christ to those around us.

We are very much a “freeway church” in that very few of our people actually live near the building. We are missional in our outreach (meaning we try to be Christ to those in our neighborhoods and work places) because our building sits in a very large, heavily populated Jewish section of town.

Most of the questions you posed center on the issues that have divided our fellowship for generations and we choose not to be issues-oriented. Many of our members do not have a restoration heritage background and are not concerned about those issues and debates. We choose, instead, to focus on Jesus Christ and to be led by His Holy Spirit that indwells us and through God’s Word that guides us.

I sincerely hope you find a body of believers with whom you can fellowship and work in a common bond of love to minister the Kingdom to others. It may be here at Long Beach, it may be elsewhere, but we wish God’s blessings on your search for a home church.

Grace and Peace,

Many thanks to my brother, Keith, for lifting me above my apathy! I trust God will do something with this situation that is far greater than anything we could imagine!

Just a Great Picture

2006-05-10T06:22:00.000-07:00

Will there be dogs in heaven? Is there a chance Chipper, my bird-eating dog, might make it?

I mentioned in an earlier blog that Chipper had cut short the life of the newborn dove hatched on our back porch. Shortly after that, another dove-couple built a nest on a ladder that should have been put away after using it. We watched as the mother lovingly (or is it just instinctual w/ no emotion?) cared for the egg. I was skipping lectures at Pepperdine when the egg hatched, and wondered if this chick had any better luck than the earlier one.

I didn't wonder long. Monday afternoon I found the remains in the back yard. No doubt, the latest victim of Chipper. If the dog in this picture were Chipper, I'd feel pretty confident she was not praying, but was dreaming of her next kill!

2006-05-09T06:05:00.000-07:00

Have you been surprised lately?

As I preached Sunday I kept noticing a young man toward the back. Inside aisle seat on the south side of the room. His face sort of haunted me and I couldn't figure out just why. When assembly was over, a couple came up to speak with me (they were actually commending the sermon .... really!) and this young man stood off to the side, patiently waiting to meet me. Finally he walked up and said, "Hi, I'm Bruce Mitchell." Now it made sense. I was looking at my cousin from 35 years ago! Only this was his son! Captain in the Air Force, recently stationed in El Segundo. We took him to lunch and got to know a second cousin I'd never known.

Funny, he knew a lot about me. Mainly from stories he'd heard about my escapades with his uncle, David. David and I were tight growing up. And we were notorious for not just getting in trouble, but for staying in trouble! He repeated at least one year of high school and seemed to have very little interest in growing up. Summers were never better than spending them with David ... which worried his mother and mine!

Today? David has his Ph.D., was a college professor for many years, and now lives in San Antonio. I'm not sure exactly what he does as I haven't heard from him in years, but I hear he's doing well. His son is an Army Ranger, so I have utmost respect for Rob. Oh yes, David also preaches some part time. Of the 25 or so grandchildren that grew up together, David and yours truly were the last ones anyone ever have dreamed would have become preachers.

Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?

256+/- Blogs

2006-05-08T06:34:00.000-07:00

One year ago, on the beautiful Pepperdine campus overlooking the Pacific Ocean, I wrote the first of (to date) 256 blogs. You could tell is was my first because it was short ... and for the most part, meaningless. But I was a novice. Now they are meaningless but much lengthier! I've come a long way, baby.

I am somewhat amazed that I ever took on this venture as the one aspect of being a fulltime preacher that I've always despised was having to come up with a weekly bulletin article, and here I am writing (or stealing) something five days a week ... and still having to come up with that blasted bulletin article! Surely God must have a special crown for those obligated to write bulletin articles. And maybe a crown for those who have to read them!

When I was visiting my blog mentor recently, we were at the kitchen table ... "early" morning (for me, at least) ... thinking through what all we needed to get done that day ... and he had his laptop, working on his blog for the day. His insightful comment: "Some days when I get my blog written I feel like I've had a morning bowel movement!" Now I don't care who you are, that's funny (to a guy), and often so true!

There are days I struggle with anything to say (as is evident) and days it just flows and I work to keep it as brief as I can. There are days I can bear my soul and know it will not only be received by this community, but you'll embrace me in support and encouragement. There are days I can let my sarcastic self shine and it, too, will be received ..... well it's received.

Serious. Sarcastic. Spiritual. Shallow. Deep. Depressing. Encouraging. Funny. Sad. Sports. Funerals. Church. Elders. Preachers. Members. We talk about it all and we have developed this incredible community that has continually branched out to include people we'll never meet this side of eternity, but people who have come to be friends and family.

So to (and in no particular order) Randy ... Brady ... Judy ... Cecil ... Brad ... Keith ... Steve ... John ... Elaine (are you still out there?) ... Scott ... jel ... Tom (so glad you joined us and welcomed some of us into your blog community!) ... Laura ... Glenda ... Puckster ... my wife, who has begun to leave comments ... and many of you who read this without responding ... thank you! You've been a wonderfully supportive family. You've opened up windows of insight into Scripture and you've opened your heart, many times without reservation. You've changed my opinions on some things and you've had your opinions changed by what I've written. And, when it was appropriate (Brady and Randy in particular) you have taken me to task and challenged me to rise above where I was that day.

Most of all, we've come together to share relationship in Jesus. And, hopefully, we are touching lives out there and we'll never know it but Jesus will be the One to receive the glory. That's my hope.

P'dine, Day Two

2006-05-04T22:52:00.000-07:00

It's late. Thursday night. The best day yet at Pepperdine. Started the day having breakfast with a friend, Edward Fudge. I am amazed at Edward's knowledge and humility. Biblical scholar. Attorney. Shepherd. Teacher. He was not scheduled to speak at 8:30, but was filling in for someone who couldn't be here. Mentioned that he doubted anyone would even show up. I was going to meet up with Randy but just couldn't let Edward not have anyone. So I went to an 8:30 class. Two in one week. He had 21 other students listen to a fascinating lecture on the purpose and duration of spiritual gifts.

Skipped the next session of classes to just sit and visit with Randy and Lex, the gentle giant. I've known Lex six years ... almost always in the context of the Zoe worship conference in Nashville. We decided to go off campus for lunch and then met up again for dinner at Wood Ranch BBQ. I thoroughly enjoyed just hanging w/ Lex. He is THE sound tech! Runs sound for Zoe as well as numerous other groups. He knows his stuff.

Thursday is our traditional day to go out on "the rock" for sharing and praying. (Both pictures are from the rock.) Always the highlight of the week. The rock hangs out over nothing, looking over Malibu Beach. Breath-taking view. Rained us out last year, but two years ago we were up there late at night, discussing the recent mountain lion attacks in Orange County. When we came down, we heard a low gutteral growling toward the end of our path. Turned out to be some faculty member out with his dog, but it sure gave us a moment of high anxiety! I knew, though, if it turned out to be the worst case scenario, I just had to outrun Cecil! No problem.

It was good to bring Keith into this rock experience. We'd hoped John could join us but he was trying to throw off a migraine headache.

Keith and Randy fly out tomorrow (Friday) morning. The rest will be dropped off at LAX early Saturday morning on my way back to Long Beach. It's been a great week. But I'm ready to go home. Nothing like sleeping in one's own bed. Nothing like coming home to the love of my life. Nothing like coming home to my church family. And nothing like coming home to a dog that will try her best to take my shoes off my feet!

2006-05-03T14:54:00.000-07:00

Wednesday. First full day of Pepperdine lectureship. I actually did something that stunned some of my veteran friends ... I attended an 8:30am lecture! It's been many years since I actually attended a lecture that early. Even went to the second lecture, so I am feeling as if I'm in some overload mode!

I typically purchase the tape or CD of early lectures because ... well, because they are early! And some of the very best speakers are usually at the early lectures and it's all but impossible to get a seat unless you go over even earlier. So if the guys who don't mind getting up and over there much earlier tell me something was really good, then I'd buy the lecture and listen to it later. Works much better for me.

But we're having a good time. Thoroughly enjoying being w/ these Florida, Alabama, Tennessee, D.C. guys. Hanging w/ them is the highlight of my lecture week, whereas going to lectures seems to be the highlight of their lecture week. I guess it's just perspective. Maybe they have a life and I don't. Maybe I have a life and they don't. Either way, we all enjoy the week.

During lunch, we sat out on a porch overlooking the ocean. There was a long table filled with food for lunch and perched right over the table was a seagull. Keith got out his video camera thinking of that seagull does to those sandwiches what they normally do to statues of generals on horseback, then Keith has a good chance of winning some money for a funniest video. You can't imagine our disappointment when the bird flew away.

Now if only the clouds would dissipate and reveal the awesome beauty of this place ... then my week would be complete.

15 Years . . .

2006-05-02T07:48:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again. Pepperdine. Actually it's the 63rd Annual Bible Lectures, but who has time to type all of that? This year is especially meaningful as we have two friends out for the first time - Keith Davis and John Roberts. We actually met John through this blogging community and so far he's decided to stay with us! Maybe it's a lack of realistic options on his part ... he's stuck here until Saturday morning. But we've thoroughly enjoyed having him a part of this experience and know both Keith and John will find Pepperdine a wonderfully refreshing break.

Randy came in earlier in the week to do some prep work in Mexico for a summer mission trip. He did get back into Long Beach in time to give me some much needed help in setting up for Sunday night's Celebration! Keith flew in Friday night and helped by putting new drum heads on Josh's set and tuning up both sets of drums for us. He is an awesome drummer and a pretty good preacher. Actually, he is a very good preacher! I don't think I'll have him or Randy either one preach again at Long Beach. Puts far too much pressure on me!

Case in point, Keith preached from Ezekiel (I think he's some OT dude) and valley of dry bones. Talked about the Spirit breathing life into us and asked at one point if we've ever felt inspired. Later one of my former friends (insert smiley face) told him she was inspired to find a new preacher for Long Beach! I don't need that kind of pressure at this point in my life.

Sunday evening was, in my opinion, by far the best we've had so far. There was an energy in our worship (from everyone involved) that I've not seen before. In part, it was due to finally having a decent sound system that could handle us, as well as my lovely wife running sound in a way that kept us balanced and not too loud. I can't remember when I've had so much fun as having Keith and Randy join with us.

So now that we have that behind us, we're trying to get five guys synched enough to go have some breakfast and then head north. Because Keith hasn't been here before and he came armed to the teeth w/ digital cameras and video stuff, he's the definitive "tourist" this year and is really putting the pressure on us to take him to see all the things we wanted to see our first time out here but are now bored to death with seeing (that was for Keith morale). Randy has declared this day "Keith Davis Day." We're doing what Keith wants to do!

Hope you have a blessed week.

Photo By Chuck Deyo
L-R: Ross (Bass), Joanna, (vocals) Randy (guitar / vocals), Greg (guitar / vocals), Daniel (keyboards), Steve (guitar / mandolin / pennywhistle / vocals), Kathleen (vocals), Doyle (vocals), Keith (master percussionist!!)

The Letter

2006-04-28T10:33:00.000-07:00

I read the blog of a good friend, Steve Puckett (also added his link to this site), on communion and community. [Click here to read it.] I've known Steve and his family for many, many years and love them dearly.

Shortly after reading his blog, I was given a letter our church received addressed "To Whom It May Concern" from an apparently concerned couple in this area seeking a "sound" church of Christ. Two pages. Forty-six questions requesting detailed responses. The expected topics: MDR (marriage, divorce, remarriage). Leadership. Cooperation. Women's role. Fellowship with people who are not "sound." One or multiple cups for communion. Ad nauseum.

Then, as if answering their legalistic inquisition were not enough, the final sentence states: "If you choose to respond and we hope you do please identify which congregation you are from. We know these are a lot of questions; however we would appreciate your response to each point. If there is anything else that you feel is important that we have not asked or addressed please feel free to include that to [sic] your response."

One of our elder's wives passed the letter on to me to decide whether or not I wanted to respond. I didn't have to read the letter to know any response I might give would be a waste of my time and theirs. This couple is not seeking a community of fellowship of people saved by grace and walking by faith. They are seeking a fortress surrounded by high walls to keep "unsound" people out! It would be a very small fortress as only a very few people would ever qualify for admittance. But I'm keeping the letter for illustrative purposes ... and occasionally just to remind myself of how fortunate I am to be among the church family that embraces me, warts, wrinkles, wrongs and all, and continually points me toward Jesus Christ and Him only.

I was once much closer to their fortress than I care to admit. I hope they can find some people who meet up their standards. Thank you for the opportunity to answer your questions Mr. and Mrs. E., but I'll cast my lot with those who plead nothing more than the blood of Jesus and the grace of God for salvation.

Omens?

2006-04-27T06:34:00.000-07:00

Kelly got voted off American Idol, which didn't surprise me, but she was my favorite. Not necessarily the best, but she was so much fun to watch and has a great country voice. My next favorite entertainer is Taylor, but hands down the best vocalist is Katherine. Time and 50 million votes a week will tell....

I'm almost too tired to even write (Wednesday night), but let me express heart-felt gratitude for the responses to the previous blog. For the record, I'm not discouraged. As a matter of fact, I've never been more encouraged in ministry than these past couple of years. I've also felt like my role at Long Beach might have been a healing role (this church certainly provided much needed healing fo rme over the years) and the next preacher would really take this congregation where it needs to be. The decision to pursue funeral directing has not been a quick decision. It's evolved over several years of seeing God open some doors I never thought would open. Too, try to get a job as a 53-year-old preacher anywhere these days! Just can't compete against the younger guys out there, though God does have the final say in such matters and I'm content to allow Him to cast that vote. I make my plans and He laughs. But my feeling is that Long Beach, as wonderful a church family as it is, would probably do better with some new blood in the pulpit, some of your comments notwithstanding.

As for the exam today.... We arrived at LAX early this morning. Far too early for this guy. Before we ever got to the gate, I went the wrong way twice and had to be called back to the "straight and narrow" by Josh. For some reason he finds my being directionally challenged very amusing. Finally reaching the gate, we decided to look for something to help wake us up, but the only place open was Starbucks. Neither of us are coffee drinkers (ruins the taste of water), but we did find some vanilla bean thing that was basically a very expensive milk shake. And delicious, I might add. We sat down facing all the other passengers and somehow (still a mystery to me) I managed to pour half of my drink all over my coat, and down my leg. While Josh was fighting to stay in his seat, completely overcome by hysteria, I went to look for napkins ... all the while my drink was all over the chair and floor. There was absolutely no way to look cool under the circumstances! I was imagining being overrun with ants and flies before arriving home this evening. Josh said I was going to smell like baby vomit. He has a strange sense of humor.

I hope the wrong turns and the spilled drink were not omens of my performance on the exam! I have no idea how I did on the exam. Josh thinks he did okay. I have a very guarded optimism that I may have passed, but will not know for at least three weeks. Thanks for your prayers and concerns.

Convergence?

2006-04-25T09:24:00.000-07:00

Many years ago I participated in a year-long small group meeting with five other preachers and a facilitator. We met one day a month for the entire day. It was an especially rewarding venture.

Late in the year, our facilitator spent the day talking with us about a concept in ministry known as convergence. I'd never heard the term, but then I never went to seminary either, which is where they probably talk about convergence.

It's the moment in ministry when everything comes together and your focus is sharper than ever. Your preaching seems to hit a high. Your relationships with your church are at a peak and you know without a doubt that this was what you were meant to do with your life. Convergence usually occurs after a long tenure with a church and the preacher has significant life experiences of walking in and by faith. I figured I'd probably never experience convergence ... few preachers do. But it was an intriguing idea and something to look forward to.

My desire was to not preach a day longer than I should, nor to leave it a day sooner than I should. The only problem with that desire is figuring out just how to determine that day! After all, some of the worst years (from my perspective ... in reality, a lot of God-stuff was going on behind the scenes) of my life were spent with a church where the preacher could and should have retired with dignity and integrity and he didn't. It almost ruined that church. In the meantime, I'm preparing myself for a third career in the final chapter(s) of my life. The funeral business.

This past weekend, I was in a discussion with friends ... they were asking what my plans were ... when I told them, K. said, "It would be a shame for you to stop preaching, you're just now beginning to get good at it!" It was not a sarcastic statement. I, too, feel like the past couple of years my preaching has taken on a new energy and focus: Christ only. After 30 years of preaching, I'm finally starting to see what Paul meant when he said he preached Christ only and Him crucified. For some reason we spend a lot of time feeding issues ... go figure?

So I've thought a lot about K's comment. To the point it's interrupting my much-needed study time for this exam coming up tomorrow. But I can't help but wonder: Could it be I'm working on a career change right on the threshold of convergence?

Nana News

2006-04-22T21:33:00.000-07:00

After waiting all day Saturday to go into surgery (see previous post), Jan's mother - affectionately known as Nana -- was taken into surgery late that afternoon. Apparently the break was not as bad as it could have been. Rather than a full hip replacement, the doctor was able to pin the hip. She tolerated the surgery well and is now facing rehab and recovery.

To those who read this in time to pray for her, thanks so much for your prayers.

2006-04-22T09:20:00.000-07:00

I don't typically post prayer requests, but am doing so today. Over the coming few days, there are a few situations in my life for which I covet your prayers:

My mother-in-law fell on Friday night and suffered a broken hip. She's 82 and when these things start happening at that age, it's often the beginning of the end. I've had two doctors (if you consider a chiropractor a legitimite doctor, which I do as our chiro is my primary physician) and two EMTs tell me that older people seldom fall and break a hip ... that they fall because their hip broke. She is in surgery as I write this. Her name is Norma.

For my friend flying into Long Beach on Tuesday, another flying in on Friday (never flown), two more flying in on Saturday, and a final flight for a first time flyer on Monday. We just need a lot of sober pilots and angelic protection over the next week!

For myself and Son as we fly to Sacramento and back on Wednesday ... that we have a safe flight. I don't seek prayers that I do good on an exam as it's my responsibility to prepare for the exam more than God's responsibility to work some miracle or magic. After all, he did give me a functional (rather, semi-functional most days) mind to use for such life events. But flying is beyond my ability to control!

For friends coming out to SoCal for Pepperdine lectureship ... that they will behave and act like adults!!! Seriously, for God's blessing on our experience together. It will be a first for a couple of the guys and we want it to be the blessing to them that it was to us ... before we started blowing off the classes and just hanging out! (I'm kidding)

Look for me Thursday morning to read what a state funeral director's exam is all about. Should be better than morning coffee to get your day started.

Thanks for stopping by and thanks for your prayer support.

Faith

2006-04-20T07:26:00.000-07:00

RW: I'm not blogging ... I'm linking!

Click HERE to link to an amazing story of this amazing dog! When you get to the link (which is a blogspot), click on the "Play" button in the middle of the picture.

2006-04-19T09:18:00.000-07:00

Juanita is such an encourager. Always smiling in spite of her health issues. Since I've known her (since 1993), she has been on dialysis ... had open-heart bypass surgery ... suffered four strokes ... and fallen with a broken hip. Twice. In spite of that, on her "off days" (when not taking dialysis) she would be out visiting the "sick and afflicted!" And she was in worse shape than most of those she visited.

Her smile is infectuous. She can give you a "look" and not say a word and you kne\ow exactly what's on her mind, good or bad. She is a hard-core fundamentalist in her theology and whenever I say something that raises a red flag in her heart, she has this sort of gutteral groan that can be heard by people one or two pews in front of her. Bud, a former elder, says he's heard that groan several times in my tenure at Long Beach! Say it ain't so.

Several years ago we had a guest at church, visiting this area because her daughter had been admitted to the hospital with terminal cancer ... and her daughter was just visiting out here as well. The daughter died within a few weeks. The mom stayed to care for her daughter and shared her situation with our church on a Sunday night. Janice and I went to the hospital almost immediately to see how we could help and the mom told us a lady by the name of Juanita had already been there, taken laundry home with her, and promised to be back the next day.

That's Juanita! Potentially intimidating to a preacher who doesn't visit anywhere near as much as Juanita does.

Dorothy, on the other hand, has been confined to her bed in the 13 years I've known her. She suffers from severe scoliosis that makes her spine look like a "S" and keeps her in constant pain. In spite of her pain and confinement to the bed, she is always smiling and always encouraging those who visit her. She loves chocolate - not just to eat, but to share with others.

Dorothy's been a widow for many years. Never had children. Pretty much alone in this world other than her church family. A few years ago when she read in the church bulletin that the ladies were studying through a certain book, she had one brought to her so she could study along with them though she would never attend a class.

Every time we go to visit either of these ladies, we come away feeling blessed and encouraged ... which is why this week has been a tough week. Both Juanita and Dorothy died. We had a wonderful celebration of Juanita's life yesterday. Dorothy will be cremated and her remains scattered at sea. We will have a brief memorial for her on Sunday, April 30.

One side comment: Many years ago a generous man left several hundred thousand dollars to our church to be used for Senior's needs. We've been very careful not to spend that money for any other need. But when Juanita's family had no money to pay for funeral expenses (and I had the mortuary discount it as much as possible), this money gifted for ministry was used to pay her expenses in full. What an impact on Juanita's children who are not associated with a church family. What a beautiful way to be remembered.

If I played the lottery (and I don't ... yet) and I ever won, I would give a huge portion of it to be used in service to others. The rest I'd spend at Guitar Center! Just kidding ... on the GC part, that is.

[Note: Because of so many interruptions and this California funeral director's exam looming over me, I finally just took some official vacation time to study. Now I won't feel guilty for being unavailable. And they give me far more vacation time in a year than I ever use, so why not? So-o-o-o-o-o ... this is my last blog until after the FD exam on Wednesday, April 26.]

The Old Phone

2006-04-18T07:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we can't win for losing! Janice loves to buy gadgets and stupid toys for the kid's Christmas stockings and Easter baskets. For the most part, the kids would try to play with them only to have them either not work or quickly break, or they'd just put them aside and never pay attention to them again. We'd eventually toss them or give them to other children. Having just spent close to $400 on Jessica's car, I didn't mind buying Easter baskets (actually a dog, monkey and duck basekts) for them but when Janice started picking out some of those "items" I suggested maybe we just stick with things they would actually enjoy. Gum. Chocolate. Snack items. Quite honestly, with Son and Fiance being in their mid-twenties and Daughter recently turning 21, I really didn't think they'd even care about an Easter basket. Against her nature and better mother judgment, she agreed. Easter morning, the first thing Son told me was, "Why didn't you get us any of the fun stuff?" I'm giving the Easter basket shopping and "fun stuff" back to Janice next year.

I'm spending this week studying every spare moment for my funeral director's exam next Wednesday. Don't know that I'll blog every day this week ... after all, how much do you want to know about mortuary law, which is my world right now? A friend sent the following story to me and I thought I'd pass it along. Enjoy!

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience. "Isn't your mother home?" came the question."Nobody's home but me," I blubbered."Are you bleeding?" the voice asked."No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.""Can you open the icebox?" she asked.I said I could. "Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?" She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Wayne always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please.""Information," said in the now familiar voice. "How do I spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well."Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your call meant to me.I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister. "Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered,
"Information." I asked for Sally. "Are you a friend?" she said. "Yes, a very old friend," I answered."I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago." Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?" "Yes." I answered.

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.

Let me read it to you."The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in.
He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant. Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today? Lifting you on eagle's wings, may you find the joy and peace you long for.

Life is a journey ... not a guided tour.

Reflections on Easter

2006-04-16T09:10:00.000-07:00

Growing up in deep south churches of Christ ... conservative thinking churches of Christ ... we were never allowed to think in terms of Easter as a religious holiday. Only people in those pesky "denominations" celebrated Easter. We, on the other hand, kept the purity of the Christian doctrine handed down by inspiration. (Sarcasm intended) We knew it was Easter because most everyone wore new clothes on that particular Sunday, but the "E"-word was never mentioned on church property and certainly not from the pulpit! After all, and again unlike those pesky denominations, we take communion every Sunday and isn't that what resurrection is all about? (Again, sarcasm intended)

So even to this day, I have a bit of ambiguity about Easter. Which is difficult being a preacher. I was bombarded for weeks with ads on how to make this day a super-day of evangelistic outreach and seeker-senstive worship. There is a church near-by that is renting a huge outdoor tennis center to accommodate their thousands of worshippers. Preaching Now e-zine encouraged me to plan extra services (as many as needed) well in advance for the onslaught of guests. As a matter of fact, no self-respecting pastor would fail to spend hours in preparation for this day. Huge advertising budgets are required. Special programs. Egg hunts. "Easter Bunny" appearances. You-name-it ... nothing is too much for Easter.

Sorry, but that just hasn't been my experience ... and I think I've been somewhat deprived of something rich and meaningful. Not the egg hunts or flash and glitz, but the focus on resurrection when much of the Christian community world-wide is focusing on resurrection, and the gratitude that flows from such a focus. Which is why I am grateful that this particular church (Long Beach) allows us to not only acknowlege the day, but even plan a special sunrise service for the day, which wasn't popular with everyone.

However, I introduced myself to a young man, Shawn, who told me he didn't sleep last night. I told him neither did I, but I was awake because I couldn't wind down from the day and I was already anticipating all I had to do on Sunday morning. Then I added, "But I doubt you were awake in anticipation of a sunrise service." He replied, "Oh, yes I was. I've been looking forward to this all week!" From a teenager, even!

Granted, getting up at 4:30 isn't high on my list on any day. Spending hours setting up on Saturday and then taking all the sound equipment back inside only to set it up again at 5am is no fun, either. Our time together this morning wasn't anything spectacular. No angels flying or Jesus ascending into the sky via actors, cables and careful choreography. We didn't have an onslaught of visitors, though we did have a few. There was no special musical program planned with orchestra and chorus, but the praise team was wonderful. But God provided a sunrise that was more spectacular than any program anyone pulled together anywhere!

Our focus was on communing with the risen Christ and gather as a family that loves one another and we will rejoice that the tomb was and is empty! We set eight tables around the permiter and had people gather in groups to actually commune in fellowship rather than isolation. It was more like a meal than a ritual. We shared our lives and prayed with one another. I don't know how many chairs we set out (around 140), but they were all full, even the front row! And though it makes for a LONG day (I'm writing this at 9am and I'm ready to go to bed), I'm already looking forward to next year when we will gather at sunrise to worship the Son who rose for us.

A $4,334.33 Whopper, Jr.

2006-04-14T06:27:00.000-07:00

Did you hear the news from Palmdale, CA., about George Beane's mother of all dinners? He ordered two Whopper Jr's and a couple of kid's burgers from the Burger King drive-through, using his debit card to pay for the meals.The cashier forgot that she'd already entered the $4.33 charge and punched in the numbers again without clearing the first entry. The charge went through without a hitch and George Beane found himself with an empty bank account and a receipt for $4,334.33!

I think that may qualify him for the having purchased the most expensive meal ever offered by Burger King! I'm sure there have been more costly meals among humanity, but I doubt there was a more expensive one purchased at a drive-through fast food joint.

I can think of two meals that were, ultimately, far more expensive: One was a simple piece of fruit in a garden in the middle east when Eve and Adam literally ate themselves out of house and home. The cost of that meal has been handed down from generation to generation. We are reminded of that meal each time the Holy Spirit convicts us of sin.

The other would have been in an upper room, also in the middle east, the night before Jesus was crucified. The difference being that you and I actually profit eternally from the meal in the upper room and the events that followed. We remember that meal every time the Holy Spirit comforts us with grace!

It would be wise for us to remember that the choices we make in life may result in a bill far greater than our ability to pay. Maybe even more than a Whopper, Jr. in Palmdale, California!

Seminar for the Insane

2006-04-13T06:34:00.000-07:00

I can think of few things more boring ... no, I'm wrong. Let me rephrase that: I can think of nothing more boring than an eight hour seminar on mortuary law! But that's what Son and I endured last Thursday, along with about 100 other fortunate individuals. In the dungeon of Rose Hills Mortuary. No A/C. Stuffy. Hot. Uncomfortable seats. No leg room. Surrounded by morticians! The successful endurance of such a seminar should legally define brain death!

However, a necessary evil on the road to licensure as a funeral director is knowing the law and being able to pass the state exam. We learned such life changing laws as certain statements on certain documents must be printed in 8pt BOLD type (or, in some of the more exciting cases, in 10pt bold type)! I must confess that not everything was as exciting as font size during the day, but that may have been one of the highlights of the seminar. Until we actually pass the state exam, we must pass this seminar exam each year. We both passed again this year. Son did better than father by 6 points. I was just happy to pass at all. By the time we took the test, I no longer cared! But passing the test renewed my confidence to forge ahead....

The exam we'll take in just over a week consists of 100 multiple choice questions designed by funeral directors who passed the exam and now want to make it more difficult for the next guy or gal to pass. Each question is intentionally phrased to confuse and throw you off. Joy! If the questions in a given category have been deemed statistically difficult, then one only has to get 70% of those questions correct. However, if in a given category the questions have been deemed to be statistically easy, then one must answer 80% of those questions correctly. I faintly remember all that from undergrad and graduate classes in psychological testing and statistics. I should have pursued that line of psychology and become an arch-evil test designer!

Along with my renewed confidence to forge ahead, I also came away from the seminar with a renewed disdain for lawyers and politicians who spend their lives making our lives more complicated, all the while attempting to convince us they are actually on our side! If all goes as planned (not to mentioned prayed and hoped), some day I shall have the privilege of directing the funeral service and burial of some of those lawyers and politicians! And then life will appear, for the moment, to have some semblance of justice.

Poll Worker, Part Two

2006-04-12T06:48:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was an incredibly long day for a preacher who is used to working around his own schedule (for the most part). The day began with an absolutely gorgeous sunrise. Since we're having an outdoor Easter sunrise service, it was good to at least know what to expect and about what time to expect it. Last year, our Sunrise service (6am) was about 20 minutes after sunrise. This year should hit it about right.

Then the day went downhill from there. Our poll inspector knew nothing about her job. We all pulled together to get the job done, though. Not having done this before, we had to rely heavily on the instructions (something any self-respecting male avoids at all costs) as to what was required on the tables, in the voting booths, and on the walls, both outside and inside. It literally took the four of us most of an hour to properly post all of the required notices (inside and outside) and in 8 different languages so that every voter could see what different languages look like when posted on a wall.

But the ineptness of our inspector shinned the brightest as we were filling out the post-election paperwork. Fortunately, we only had to do it in English. While tallying up the votes on a worksheet, she was to put several totals in several different boxes on the sheet and then add certain boxes. She had numbers in four boxes. Box five was to be a total of boxes 1 thorugh 4. Instructions: "Add boxes 1 - 4 and write total in box five." She looked at four literal boxes on the table that were to be used for returning ballots and counted those boxes! I'm pretty slow at math, but she made me look like the genius.

Polls were open at 7am. Closed at 8pm. Our first voter came in about 8:30. Just before 6pm, a husband, wife and daughter came in to vote. It was the only time all day we had three people voting at once! We literally went an hour or longer with no one voting. With a roster of just over 400 voters in our precint, we had 54 votes cast. That's about 12% of registered voters. That's also pathetic.

I kept my commitment of civic insanity and shall never work a poll again. But I do have a great sense of appreciation for those who will work the next election.

Poll Worker

2006-04-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

In a moment of civic insanity, I agreed to work as an election clerk today. It's Tuesday, April 11, and city elections are being held. We're voting for mayor, city attorney, school board member, and a couple of other lesser political offices. And for some reason that should be obvious to city authorities, they can't seem to interest enough citizens into working polls. So they called and begged and in a moment of weakness, I agreed to work.

In that working the polls is not a complicated proces, we are required to attend a two-hour seminar just to make it confusing! We must also take a 10-question exam to show we weren't confused. One lady in our seminar has worked the polls every year since Eisenhower was president! I can't decide if I admire her or think she's stupid and has no life. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt.

I've been to the polls. I've watched poll workers at work. Usually two people sit at a table with a very official looking book in front of them. This book is all but sacred as it contains the names and addresses of every registered voter in that precint. So here is the process as I've observed it over the years:

You walk in, stand in line if there is a line.
Remain quiet so as not to disturb voters.
They ask your name, you tell them your name.
They find your name on the sacred list and ask if that is you.
If so, you sign your name and then print your name. If not, you go back to step three.
They mark a line through your name and hand you a ballot.

At that point, you go to either a voting booth or a line leading to said booth. You eventually mark your ballot (unless you are voting in Florida, where you are expected to do the humanly impossible task of punching a hole in a thin piece of paper with a pointed object) and then hand it to another poll clerk who takes your ballot and, IN PLAIN SIGHT, tears off the stub and drops the ballot into the sealed ballot box while returning the stub to you. He or she then gives you a sticker, printed at government expense of who knows how many millions of dollars, that proclaims you have voted! You are free to leave or free to just hang around and watch others vote. If you do the latter, you are then officially known as a "poll watcher" and anyone can be a poll watcher, though I don't know why anyone would want to be a poll watcher.

Now that one is a voter, he or she will eventually return home to watch the outcome, which in my case in California, means my vote was far too conservative or politically incorrect and my candidate lost by a landslide!

So why would I not want to be a poll worker again? Who wants to be somewhere other than in bed at 6:30 in the morning?!

If it's election day where you are, get out and vote. Make a poll-worker's day by showing up. Otherwise it's going to be a very long day for us.

Only God!

2006-04-10T06:01:00.000-07:00

This picture was taken May 14, 2005 about 50 miles west of Bakersfield (trust me, you'd never see this beauty in Bakersfield!) by some lady by the name of Barbara Mathews. Though this bit of information means nothing to someone as directionally challenged as I, it is the east side of the Carrizo Plain in the Temblor Range. I think that has something to do with a mountain. I almost get allergies looking at it! Anyway, Mathews appropriately calls it God Spilled the Paint and I thought you could use a bit of beauty from this blog site ... once in a while!

I Don't Like My Dog Right Now

2006-04-07T06:25:00.000-07:00

I've enjoyed springtime the past few years because doves have used the framing of the back porch to nest their babies, and I've enjoyed watching the tender care given to the egg and to the newborn chick. This year was no different. I don't know if it was the same dove this year as last, but it was a dove nonetheless. Mom built her nest a few weeks ago and stayed with it day and night. Finally, the egg hatched and we saw glimpses of the baby ... which concerned me because the porch was damaged back in January when a tree fell on it, and about the time the egg hatched, we were having the porch covering replaced. I couldn't help but wonder if the work would disrupt nature' work in progress.

My friend who was replacing the porch was concerned as well and was very careful not to disturb the nest. Though the mother flew away and made some noises that seemed less than complimentary, she survived the construction and Tuesday morning I saw mom and baby checking out the neighborhood from a nest-perspective. About an hour later, I came through the back yard and noticed the baby had flown from the nest to a swing under the porch. Mom was nowhere in sight. Nor was our dog, Chipper. The young bird flew to a nearby lemon tree and perched there for a while.

When I came out of the house a few minutes later, it flew from the tree to the driveway gate, hit the fencing and fell to the ground, somewhat dazed. I looked around for Chipper just in time to see her appear from nowhere and run straight for the bird. Before I could even mouth the words to stop her, she had the baby bird in her jaws. As I screamed, "Chipper, NO!" she looked at me and dropped the bird ... sulking away wondering (I'm sure) what she'd done wrong. After all, aren't retrievers bred to retrieve birds? Isn't there something in her genetic makeup that prompts her to catch birds?

The baby bird moved its head and I saw an eye blink ... then nothing. I left it alone, lying on the concrete in the rain and kept Chipper away to see if it would come around and either limp away or, even better, fly away. When it didn't move, I picked it up with a piece of cardboard and noticed the injury from Chipper's massive jaws was fatal. I'll spare you the gory details, but something within me wanted to punish Chipper, but for what ... being a dog?

God's world is amazing and marvelous. But sometimes when creatures act "by nature" it can be sad to watch. I'm sure the view from heaven must be somewhat similar when I act "by nature" rather than being led "by the Spirit." I wish Chipper didn't act like such a ... dog! I wish the baby bird had lived to enjoy flight and life more than just a couple of hours. I wish I would enjoy the life God has given to me by grace more than I tend to do when my flesh is so weak.

We Can Stop Praying

2006-04-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

Prayer doesn't work!

At least intercessory prayer for the sick, when prayed by a stranger, doesn't work. Or so we would be led to believe by the latest medical research. (Click here to read the AP article.) So I suppose we can now put aside the what, 3 - 5 minutes spent in prayer each day for the sick, and spend that time doing something more productive. Something that can be measured by $2.4 million studies from people who, for the most part, deny the existence of God.

For those who don't want to read the article, here's a summary: The Templeton Foundation (a group that funds research into science and religion) funded a study involving 1,800 patients in six different medical centers. The patients were divided (not surgically) into three groups, with Christians praying for certain patients to have a "successful surgery with a quick, healthy recovery and no complications." Well, duh! There's part - if not most - of the problem ... no one used the phrase "be with the sick and afflicted" nor did we see the phrase "guide, guard, and direct" anywhere in the study with reference to the "hands that do the surgery." C'mon, if you're going to research prayer, you gotta at least use the God-ordained phrases! (Sarcasm intended) Anyway, the study found that those patients who were prayed for did not have complication-free recovery any more so than those not lifted in prayer. According to the research, those receiving prayer actually had slightly more complications! Fifty-nine percent of those prayed for had complications as opposed to 52% of those who were told complications were just a possibility.

Prayer for healing has always been a tricky thing to nail down, unless you are a televangelist and milk it for money. If this study revealed anything, it may have revealed that medical researchers and participants possibly don't understand prayer! It is not a way to invoke divine power at our whim. Prayer is intimate communication with our Creator. Dr. David Stevens, executive director of the Christian Medical and Dental Association, said: "Do we control God through prayer? Theologians would say absolutely not. God decides sometimes to intervene, and sometimes not."

Maybe the greatest lesson learned from this study is a simple lesson: God is not obligated to participate in research studies!

In the meantime, if I'm having surgery, please keep me in your prayers. And if you're having surgery, let me know and I'll pray for you. And whatever the outcome, God is no less God!

Neanderthal Praise Band

2006-04-05T06:42:00.000-07:00

Neanderthal Praise Band

I saw that cartoon and found it funny. Reminded me of a T-shirt I gave our worship leader. Looking over the director's music stand to the band, you see on his "music" the notation: "Wave arms till music stops!"

[Randy, you might consider this name for your "praise band with no name." Envision it in lights ... on posters ... on web sites (w/ elder approval, of course): IN CONCERT (insert date / time) -THE ARLINGTON NEANDERTHAL PRAISE BAND ... It has potential.]

In light of the several blogs posted in this community about the Nancy Grace CNN "interview" and the caustic remarks made toward churches of Christ, you would probably appreciate something Joel Maners had to say in his blog. I don't know Joel, but I thanked him for his blog and I sent an email to the Baptist preacher who labeled us a "borderline cult." You might want to do the same.

I'm not suggesting anyone owes this Baptist preacher an apology for how we've been perceived or, perhaps more correctly, how some of the extremists among us have presented churches of Christ. I wouldn't want to be a part of that "church of Christ," though in the past I was one of them.

I thought he might want to hear from those within the churches of Christ who are not legalistic, patternists who think "we are the only saved." I thought maybe he'd like to hear from some who would actually refrain from condemning him simply because he is not "one of us." I thought maybe he'd like to hear from people who are just as dependent upon grace for salvation as he. Maybe I think too much, but you can decide for yourself.

If the link sends you to his Joel's site but not a blog related to the CNN piece, then go to his blog dated Tuesday, April 4. It's titled, "I Repent and I'm Sorry."

S.

2006-04-04T06:40:00.000-07:00

In yesterday's blog, I mentioned that S., a homeless man, had returned for a second week to worship with us. What I didn't know is that he'd been here one other Sunday (while I was in Arlington). S. came in through a side door and quickly took a seat on the same pew (where did we come up with that word for a bench?) where his friends would sit. He avoided eye contact and tried to look invisible. Actually, he looked as if he'd been up in the mountains trapping animals, and I don't say that to be funny or sarcastic, he just had a very rough look about him ... except for his eyes. His eyes reflected a kindness in spite of his life on the streets.

Several people came to where he was to introduce themselves and welcome him. When I talked with him he told me his hands were hurting from arthritis. I told him I was encouraged to see him back. S. was suffering from Parkinson's Disease and was trying to get into a rehab program to get off of alcohol. I don't judge him for that ... I've never been on the streets like that. I've never been in such despair. No family. Few friends. Entering this strange world of strangers called church.

For some reason, I thought about S. that day - things such as, "I wonder if he has a relationship with the Lord?" (I could have asked. Why didn't I ask?) ... "We should have invited him to go with us to lunch." ... "I wonder if he felt like a stranger or like a welcome guest?" (We play a huge role in how we make people feel.) For some reason, he was just on my mind Sunday afternoon. Oh, well ... I can always find him through T. and his wife if I really want to pursue these thoughts. There's a good chance he will come back next week, I'll be sure to probe a little deeper into how we might can help him out.

Monday morning I got a call from D. (T.'s wife) and I could tell she was quite upset. Slowly she told me the news that S. had gone to the ER Sunday evening and died around midnight. They think maybe a heart attack. No one knew his full name. No one knew anything about his family, except that he had a brother and he's probably in jail somewhere. No one knew his birthday, other than last year he was given a radio for his birthday (sometime in November) and it was later stolen from him.

S. seemed to never get a break in life. He did tell T. and D. that years ago he was baptized in a four-square church up north somewhere. At some point in his life, he had decided he wanted to identify with Jesus. I can only hope that in these past few and final weeks of his life S. was making his way back to Jesus. Or that maybe he'd never left Jesus at all ... he was just searching for some of his family!

D.'s phone call saddened me.

2006-04-02T15:59:00.000-07:00

Sunday was such a refreshing day for me on many levels, and in spite of losing an hour of much needed sleep! I'd requested of our worship leader to use a certain song before the sermon. A song that I love, but has a very high tenor part. The praise team had been working on it for a couple of weeks. We sang it last week on Sunday night, but it's different when accompanined by guitars.

Jim, our tenor singer (and one of our shepherds) told me last week, "I can hardly hit some of those notes!" That was okay with me since it was Jim singing and not Greg. But Saturday night he called and told me he would not be available Sunday, would I fill in for him as tenor. During rehearsal Sunday morning, I requested a moment of silence ... to curse Jim! Had I known I was singing tenor, I would requested another song.

B. was standing outside drinking his coffee alone when I came out of the church office. I introduced myself to him and learned he was a 20-year veteran airline pilot, arriving in Long Beach that morning for three months of training in Los Angeles. Found us in the phone book and decided he had time to make it to worship. I invited him to go inside with me to meet some of our family. As it turned out, he had been inside and just about everyone I introduced to B. had earlier introduced themselves. That's always a good sign.

We took B. to lunch and got to know him even better. Wonderful Christian man from deep in the heart of Texas. About as deep into the Bible-belt as a person can be. When we finally got our meal and started conversing, one of his first comments: "You guys are a lot more progressive than back in _______, Texas!" That usually raises a red flag and leads to some degree of confrontation. I wasn't sure just how to respond to that, but as it turns out, he was very gracious and non-judgmental over issues of opinion. If only we could all be so non-divisive in matters of grace. And the "progressiveness" of our church? A praise team on stage! At his home church, they use a "stealth" praise team. The team has microphones, but dares not appear on stage! We were there a few years ago. We have funny notions, we religious folks, about what distresses our Father. He even volunteered the information that his brother preaches for a First Christian Church, which opened up further discussion and appreciation for one another.

With rare exceptions, I love Sundays. I love being with my family. I love studing together in Bible class. I love the worship. I love the communion devotional by a man celebrating 19 months of sobriety and giving Jesus all the glory. I love sharing the Word in sermon (I began my series on Romans and received more than the usual comments). I love the fellowship before and after. I love the support and affirmation of our shepherds. I love the freedom I have to teach as the Holy Spirit reveals to me through the Word, with no expectation of adherance to some orthodoxy or tradition that has been raised to the level of inspired doctrine. I love the generosity of this family and the support given whenever asked to share with others. I love that fact that God usually graces us with guests and we have the opportunity to share His love. I love the fact that S., a homeless man, was here again this morning. A number of people made sure he was made to feel welcome. A family took him to lunch.

Five of us spent an additional two hours rehearsing for our next Sunday Celebration! These fine musicians are such an encouragement to me. We've moved from getting together and leaving exhausted and frustrated, to now getting together and enjoying the fruit of those earlier hours. We're actually beginning to meld into a decent praise band.

God's family!!! When it's good, it's really good! And when it's not so good ... well, we've all been there. I'm grateful for the years in Long Beach that have been so very good.

"You never know...."

2006-03-31T06:05:00.000-08:00

I got a phone call last night from a friend battling a recurring cancer, trying to recover from two different surgeries, and fighting a nasty infection. To say the least, he's discouraged ... which is not something usually associated with this man.

For many years, we've looked up to him as the epitome of health and self-discipline. He runs several miles a day ... does hundreds of push-ups and pull-ups a week ... works out with weights ... and eats healthier than anyone I know. And until recently, looked years younger than his age. But this round with cancer is taking its toll on his emotions and his once-youthful look ... not to mention his attitude. I'm not criticizing him. He's probably handling this far better than I would under similar circumstances. I just really feel bad for my friend.

We talked for about 5 minutes, but it was his first comment that really stuck with me. Without so much as a "Hello," he imparted his most recent advice: "Greg, you need to take your wife out for a nice dinner, buy the finest wine, have the best of chocolate for dessert, go home and enjoy the best sex of your life because you never know when it's all going to come to an end!" Sounds very ecclesiastical and Solomonical (a word I made up meaning "of or from Solomon"), doesn't it?

Being married to a school teacher and not liking wine, not all of those options are always available, but I know what he meant. Take advantage of the opportunities God gives for life is short, and it may not end as we planned or hoped it would.

Paul put it like this, "Be careful how you live, not as fools but as those who are wise. Make the most of every opportunity for doing good in these evil days.... Let the Holy Spirit fill and control you." (Ephesians 5:16, 18b)

Just a Beggar

2006-03-30T06:47:00.000-08:00

I stopped by the mortuary to pick up the body of a dear sister and take her to be buried next to her husband, who died some 20+ years ago. Another service was in progress in our chapel and I stepped into the foyer of the chapel to speak to a co-worker before leaving for the service I was conducting. The preacher was just about to wrap up his "few comments" that had gone now for over 30 minutes. (It's an occupational hazzard that can only be understood by a fellow-preacher.) I was asked if I had time to help dismiss the family and friends before leaving for my service. Since I had to wait for them to clear the parking lot anyway, I gladly agreed to help him out.

In the actual final moments of the preacher's encouragment to this group of grievers, he was sharing the good news of life in Christ. It was the typical appeal we've all heard from any number of televangelists, only this one lacked the plea for financial support! He did make a comment, though, that struck a chord with me. He told them he didn't have all the answers and wasn't trying to come across as someone who did. Then he said: "I'm just a beggar telling other beggars where I found some food."

I like that analogy. I appreciated his humility.

Encouragement

2006-03-29T06:03:00.000-08:00

I preface this blog with two posts from Steve "the thurman8ter" Thurman. The first blog had to do with an obstinate student and his threat-breathing father, and Steve's desire at that point to be in another profession. It was followed with yesterday's blog about Parent Night and the irrate father failing to show up, but a former student taking the time to come by and tell him how much she missed his class, and even hugging his neck in appreciation. [Note: We're just hoping her father doesn't come after Steve for sexual harassment!]

Words of encouragement don't seem to come often enough, but when they do, they can completely turn around an attitude, or a moment, or a day, or a week, or even a life! Words are powerful. Words of encouragement have an almost resurrection power to them.

Many years ago, while preaching for a small church in east-central Florida, seven of the eight years we served there were horrible. During the final year or so, my wife and I walked for miles in the evenings just so I could vent some energy and anger over circumstances and situations I was powerless to change.

During those years in Florida, two things (outside of grace, family, and a few close friends) kept me alive and functional. One was seasonal, but it gave me plenty of opportunity to have some control in my life and to use up massive amounts of energy. I was a high school basketball official. Because of my schedule, I was able to accept almost any game at any time, so between afternoon games with middle schools and junior high schools (the worst of basketball), and varsity games two nights a week, I worked around 100 games per season.

The other thing that kept me alive and functional was my work as a chaplain for the local police department. Police officers are a very tight fraternity and not easily entered into by non-police officials. I broke into the ranks the day I went to the shooting range and qualified with a hand-gun, outscoring some seasoned officers. They were not as impressed with my score as they were with the fact that I cared enough to come out and be a part of their world. I immersed myself into that world, going on frequent ride-alongs (sometimes all night) as well as taking numerous classes and seminars offered only to police personnel. In time, I wrote the department SOP (standard operating procedure) for death notifications and helped write the SOP for post- traumatic event debriefing. I worked a number of homicide cases with investigators, my job being a support role for the survivors as well as for the police personnel involved. I worked in the neighborhoods with families and friends when children drowned or were killed in auto accidents (and that happened too often).

As strange as it may sound, one of the more meaningful moments of that ministry was walking into a morgue with Detective K. W. to do some follow-up investigative work on a four-year-old boy that had drowned. The officer had a four-year-old son. My son was about 6 at the time. Both of us looked at that little boy in that cold morgue and saw our own son on the gurney. K. W. couldn't thank me enough for going in with him. He'd been in the morgue many times, but never for something that would hit so close to home. We both left with tears in our eyes, hoping the other wouldn't notice. I later attended the autopsy of a little 8-year-old girl who had been beaten to death by a foster father. He was not only acquitted on some legal technicality, but was allowed to continue keeping foster children! We all felt dumped on with that news from the courts. Sometimes life just isn't fair and it doesn't make sense on any level.

Officers would call or invite me to go on ride-alongs so they could talk with me about their problems or just share the latest news with me. I had an open-door invitation from both the police chief and the mayor. My two best friends in the department were both lieutenants. One (J.) was head of detectives, the other (C.) was over all departmental training as well as internal affairs. In spite of all you've seen in movies about IA people, C. was well respected by everyone in the department. J. became police chief. I have no idea what C. is doing these days. Both had a great impact on my life and were truly brothers. Incidentally, I received two or three (can't remember and they were stolen when our house was burglarized) medals for service to the department and to the city. I felt like I was making a difference in the lives of some people, though at church I felt completely paralyzed, and useless. I was spiritually depleted the moment I went onto the church property.

When we moved to California, I was determined to stay here three years and then leave ministry forever. I spent those three years dumping my garbage on this church family and trying to figure out what I could do to support my family. I was in a pit of discouragement. But I look back on it almost historically now that I'm into my 13th year in Long Beach and I see the encouraging hand of God through it all. And this church family had every reason to invite me to leave, but instead they loved me and encouraged me (for the most part) through a much-needed healing process.

The point of this blog is simply to say if there is someone in your life who has encouraged you, by all means, please let them know it! Return the gift with a "Thank you" and tell them specifically how they brought you through a tough time in your life!

I can't close this without saying how this blog family has encouraged me, so without being specific (and, thus, going against my own advice to you) let me say to each reader who has responded to my blogs to challenge, teach, chide, or encourage me, "Thanks!! ... a million!" That you would even take time to even read this stuff, much less respond to it, often makes my day.

Coach Wooden

2006-03-28T06:50:00.000-08:00

With March Madness in full swing, as well as UCLA's appearance in the final four, I thought some of you might enjoy the following story from this week's Preaching Now, Vol. 5, Number 12. (Original source is unknown.)

"On the 21st of the month, the best man I know will do what he always does on the 21st of the month. He'll sit down and pen a love letter to his best girl. He'll say how much he misses her and loves her and can't wait to see her again. Then he'll fold it once, slide it in a little envelope and walk into his bedroom. He'll go to the stack of love letters sitting there on her pillow, untie the yellow ribbon, place the new one on top and tie the ribbon again.

"The stack will be 180 letters high then, because the 21st will be 15 years to the day since Nellie, his beloved wife of 53 years, died. In her memory, he sleeps only on his half of the bed, only on his pillow, only on top of the sheets, never between -- with just the old bedspread they shared to keep him warm.

"There's never been a finer man in American sports than John Wooden, or a finer coach. He won 10 NCAA basketball championships at UCLA, the last in 1975. Nobody has ever come within six of him. He won 88 straight games between January 30, 1971, and January 17, 1974. Nobody has come within 42 since. . . .

"There has never been another coach like Wooden, quiet as an April snow and square as a game of checkers; loyal to one woman, one school, one way; walking around campus in his sensible shoes and Jimmy Stewart morals. He'd spend a half hour the first day of practice teaching his men how to put on a sock. "Wrinkles can lead to blisters," he'd warn. These huge players would sneak looks at one another and roll their eyes. Eventually, they'd do it right. "Good," he'd say. "And now for the other foot."

"Of the 180 players who played for him, Wooden knows the whereabouts of 172. Of course, it's not hard when most of them call, checking on his health, secretly hoping to hear some of his simple life lessons so that they can write them on the lunch bags of their kids, who will roll their eyes.

"Discipline yourself, and others won't need to," Coach would say. "Never lie, never cheat, never steal," and "Earn the right to be proud and confident."

"If you played for him, you played by his rules: Never score without acknowledging a teammate. One word of profanity and you're done for the day. Treat your opponent with respect. He believed in hopelessly out-of-date stuff that never did anything but win championships. No dribbling behind the back or through the legs. "There's no need," he'd say.

"No UCLA basketball number was retired under his watch. "What about the fellows who wore that number before? Didn't they contribute to the team?" he'd say. No long hair, no facial hair. "They take too long to dry, and you could catch cold leaving the gym," he'd say. That one drove his players bonkers. One day, All-America center Bill Walton showed up with a full beard. "It's my right," he insisted. Wooden asked if he believed that strongly. Walton said he did. "That's good, Bill," Coach said. "I admire people who have strong beliefs and stick by them, I really do. We're going to miss you." Walton shaved it right then and there. Now Walton calls once a week to tell Coach he loves him.

"He's almost 90 now. You think a little more hunched over than last time. Steps a little smaller. You hope it's not the last time you see him. He smiles. 'I'm not afraid to die,' he says. 'Death is my only chance to be with her again.'

"Problem is, we still need him here."

2006-03-27T06:38:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year I would love to live where the cherry blossoms are so beautiful, which has nothing to do with this blog other than I wanted a picture of cherry blossoms!

Five days after the fact, Janice and I got together with our children to "celebrate" my birthday ... which basically means I picked up the tab and we enjoyed a meal together. But I'm not complaining. I can't think of anything I'd rather do than be with my children ... all three of them. Jessica is incredibly busy this semester and it was good to spend some time with her. I'll take whatever I can get!

Saturday, Josh and Heather came over and she brought a sack full of 8mm video tapes made back in th early 90's. She'd never seen them and probably would have edited a lot of what we saw and laughed over! It was a fun, raw, unedited glimpse into her childhood. But it also reinforced what I've already decided: Heather grew up in a loving, nurturing, God-centered family and we enjoyed walking through a part of her childhood. We've been talking about taking out our video tapes and converting them to DVD, but I'm not sure I want to see how much I've aged since those movies were made. We had a potato bar and dessert after our praise & worship time and a lady asked me (as we were indulging in dessert), "Are you doing anything for excercise these days?" I told her it was none of her business, but for her information I do walk to work daily. Geez ... people can be so intrusive, can't they? I am trying to grow about six inches taller as that should take care of the perceived weight problem!

Our March Celebration! tonight was topped off with the baptism of two young ladies. The S. family came into our lives about 18 months ago and have been a huge blessing to our church family as we've watching them grow so steadily in the Lord. They are moving at the end of April and now I know (again) the importance of intentionally grounding new converts in the faith. Though they have grown by leaps and bounds in the year and a half they've been walking with the Lord, I still feel as if we're putting chidren out of the house to make it on their own! I pray the Lord will open up to them a church family that will continue the walk with them.

I've taken enough of your time. Have a blessed week and thanks for stopping by!

Ahrrrrrrg!

2006-03-24T06:28:00.000-08:00

I received a rather interesting email from a cousin of mine who discovered that in our family lineage was a somewhat colorful character by the name of Captain Edward England. Were you to compare his picture with some of mine, you would immediately see the resemblence, as I have a pair of high heels just like that!

Apparently Capt. England gave up honest work as an officer on a Jamaican sloop to join the ranks of Carribean pirates in the 1700's. He captained (is that a verb?) a ship by the name of Pearl and later captured a larger ship (which just happened to have a much needed armory of 34 guns) called the Fancy. As I comtemplate the naming of his ships, I think I have an insight into his high heels! Maybe not. With the capture of the latter ship, he was elevated from Captain to Commodore.

Anyway, his career began on the upswing as he successfully plundered two dozen ships. At a point in his career when he should have finished off an officer of either the English or Dutch navy, he allowed the captain (James Macrae) to live. England's crew was so angered by that decision, they turned against him and voted him out of his rank as captain, putting him ashore on Mauritius (wherever that is?). He eventually made his way to St. Augustine Bay, Florida, living out his life as a pauper, taking the charity of other, more successful, pirates.

I always figured we had some bootleggers and horsethieves in the old family tree, and for a while we thought maybe an uncle was on the FBI most wanted list for bank robbery. As it turned out, the real culprit (by the same name) was arrested and my great uncle cleared. But a pirate? And a pauper-pirate at that! Ahrrrrrrg!

Learning Division

2006-03-23T06:07:00.000-08:00

Last week I listened to a sermon via internet by Bro. Rick Atchley (preaches for the Richland Hills Church of Christ in the Ft. Worth area, TX.) on learning division. It's worth your while to either listen on internet or buy the DVD for $5.

Anyway, Rick's point is worth not only sharing but considering ... I mean deeply considering! Basically he says we learn to be divided as believers. We didn't come to Christ as liberals or conservatives or moderates. Most of us came to Christ via a church system that taught us to be liberal or conservative or moderate ... that taught us to be divided. We bought into a mindset and an historical perspective that was hardly biblical or Godly.

For example (not from Rick's sermon), in the recent past, there was a huge annual event among us known as Jubilee! Held in Nashville and sponsored by some of our known "liberals" (sarcasm intended), Jubilee drew thousands to a weekend of uplifting worship, praise, teaching and fellowship, as well as constant fire and brimstone from the conservative side of our dis-fellowship. Amazingly, in distant mission fields lines of fellowship were drawn in the sand over whether or not one supported Jubilee! I talked with people returning from the former Soviet Union where new believers were confused as to whether they were pro- or anti-Jubilee. They didn't have a clue what Jubilee was or what side they were supposed to be on, but they were under pressure from stateside churches to declare allegiance to the anti-Jubilee camp! How that must sadden the heart of God.

Rick gave an historical perspective on our 100+-year division and pointed out in his sermon some of the various "issues" over which we continue to divide and sub-divide. Issues such as style of worship (instrumental / a cappella ... use of worship teams / single song leader ... inclusion of women / silence of women ... etc.). Whether or not we have a located preacher. Do we have Sunday schools? Do we support Christian colleges and orphan's homes? Do we use one or more cups when taking communion? Can we have a kitchen in the building? Can we have a building? Ad nauseum.

Suppose a person were to simply find a Bible and read it, believe it, and practice a life of righteousness, trusting only in Jesus. Would that person, upon reading just the Bible with no commentary and no pre-conceived theology from the rest of us, come to the same conclusions we've reached? Would they come away from a reading of the New Testament with the rock-solid belief that the use of instrumental music was a sin unto eternal damnation? (How could they when Revelation pictures the redeemed in heaven being handed harps by God himself?!?) Would they decide that when taking the Lord's Supper, they must use only a cup and take it only on Sundays? What if they lived in a culture where Sunday was not the recognized first day of the week? Would they decide that lifting of hands and clappping and any external sign of emotional response to worship was sinful? Would that person conclude that only people who agree on every minute detail of faith were in the kingdom of God?

I'm putting a lot of words into Rick's sermons, but you see where he went with it. We learn to be divided! And, in my opinion, most of what divides us has absolutely nothing to do with salvation and everything to do with culture and tradition and personal comfort zones. It's called orthodoxy, and it suffocates faith.

We are saved by grace through faith and not by performance. And certainly not by some flawless adherence to a perceived doctrine shaped far more by culture than by Christ.

[If you are interested in hearing Rick's sermon, click on his name and then go down to the March 1 sermon. Or you can just go to their link "Sermons to Go" and order the DVD for $5.00.]

No Greater Love....

2006-03-22T06:27:00.000-08:00

You'd never know Mike was a successful salesperson by looking at him. I like Mike because he's the exact opposite of every salesperson I've ever known. (He's also very active in his church, very missional, and working on his masters degree in theology.) Usually Mike dresses in jeans and a pullover or sweatshirt. I've never seen him in a tie, or even remotely dressed beyond extreme casual. That's one reason I gave him our account five years ago. The other reason is there is no "b.s." (bad sales ... c'mon, what else could it mean?) with Mike. He'll give you the best price on the best machine and doesn't tie up your day pulling your string to make another dollar. A bottom-line kind of guy. Before we met Mike, we hated it when an office machine sales person would come in the door. Now we just tell the others we have a person who works with us and we're not interested in what they have to offer ... whatever it is they have to offer! We're very loyal to Mike.

Yesterday afternoon he came by and stuck his head into my office just to say, "Hi," and to ask how things were going. I told him I'd just returned from a trip to D.C. He got excited (about as excited as Mike gets) because he is going to D.C. for the first time in May. As we talked about what I'd seen in my two very short trips, I told him the most impressive and most haunting memorial to me was the Korean Memorial (pictured, in part, above). He shared that his uncle (who lives in Virginia and is hosting him for this trip) was a WWII and Korean Marine vet who had survived some of the very worst Pacific Theater and Korean Theater battles in our history.

That's when I shared a story about my brother that became known to me only this past year at the time of my mother's funeral. He served for nearly 30 years, reaching the rank of Sgt. Major. Served in Viet Nam and Panama (and maybe other places that I don't know). He was in 'Nam at the time I was in college and subject to being drafted. He told me there was a law that preventing a sibling from being drafted and sent to Viet Nam if another sibling was presently serving in Viet Nam, so he signed up for a second tour as an Army Ranger just so I would not have to be sent to that hellish nightmare. I almost didn't tell him that my draft number was in the high 300's .... but I did. In hindsight, he didn't need to make that second tour. But he did because of a brother's love. I'm not even sure we were all that close at the time, so it was not just love, but unconditional love.

Jesus said, "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends...." Fortunately my brother didn't have to lay down his life for mine, but he was willing to do so and I was reminded of that today while talking with Mike. I don't think my brother knows the depth of my respect and love for him.

I hope you have such a friend on this earth!

The Christian Rock Star Ringer!

2006-03-21T08:48:00.000-08:00

On the flight out the DC last week, I was seated next to a woman who travels all over the world with her job and has done so for years. When I got home last night I told my wife, "Hopefully, this is my only flight this year!" I don't like leaving home. Anyway, we started talking about the final 20 minutes of the flight because she had been so busy the first part of the flight reading over some reports needed later that day.

Of course, the inevitable question was directed to me during our conversation, "So, are you on business?" I never quite know how to answer that question since in my "business" just about any and everything I do is ultimately related to ministry and trying to be what I believe. I replied, "Part business, mostly pleasure," ... that a friend had asked me to come and play with his praise band. She asked, "What kind of music do you play?" Now I thought the term praise band might have given away the secret, but what do I know? I told her we play contemporary Christian music. She got all excited because her son listens to "that kind of music" and loves it! "I can't wait to get home and tell him I sat by a Christian rock star!"

So there you have it. In the eyes of one woman who lives somewhere in Orange County, California, and flies all over the world, I am a Christian rock star! But it gets better. When we had rehearsal on Friday night, the keyboard player introduced herself to me and when I told her my name she said, "Oh, you're the ringer Randy brought in." No pressure here! This ringer managed to completely mess up one song both evenings. Not to mention a conversation with my wife before I left on the trip. I'll summarize her comments: "Don't go to Washington and try to tell them how to play their songs. Just let them do it their way and join with them!" It wasn't so much a suggestion as it was a threat. I'm somewhat particular (okay, I'm very particular) about learning the chord nuances that make a song come alive. So guess what I did? Suffice it to say, I apologized several times to Randy for my borderline OCD behavior.

We did see God's hand through all of our efforts to bring a message of grace to an often graceless world and that was what we set out to do from the start.

Going Home

2006-03-20T06:39:00.000-08:00

I had a great time in DC with Randy and his family. The two concerts went very well (considering the visiting musician). We played for an outreach ministry at Randy's church Saturday night and then for a neighboring Nazarene church on Sunday night. What a sweet spirited group of people. Their preacher prayed with me just before I left and I appreciated so much his spirit and love for the Lord.

I met several people at Randy's church Sunday who knew my grandparents in Alabama (I was all but a celebrity to them). Mentioned in my sermon a professor at Harding Grad. School of Religion, only to find out her neice was in the praise band! Nice surprise. I'm very glad my comment about my professor was a positive one! Those things can go either way... Connected with a guy I knew 30 years ago in graduate school. Made a new friend in Brad (Associate Minister with Randy). Spent time with Janet, whom I met in Nashville a few years ago (she sings in Randy's group), and was a classmate of my wife's sister. But all in all, I'm ready to go home.

My Monday will be spent touring a couple of the local museums (not Guitar Center, Cecil) and then cruising at about 37,000 feet, in a very small seat, next to someone I don't know, with my knees up near my chest, and my thoughts on my sweetheart, Janice! It was very good to be here. It will be even better to get home.

How to be Thankful Every Day

2006-03-17T05:58:00.000-08:00

Note: This post is NOT from Long Beach, so it doesn't count as a final post of the week. But it is the final post of the week, as I don't post on weekends.

Yesterday, Randy and I spent most of the day setting up sound equipment for the concert this weekend. Of course, really good bands have people who do this type of work (or, with praise bands, this type of ministry) but Randy's roadie is on vacation with his wife. By the time we hauled everything up two flights of stairs, I was thinking "vacation with wife" is a pretty lame excuse! And as for the national monument trips, we only had to make one visit to Guitar Center. So far.

I met a person (whom I shall refer to as "P" as in person) yesterday who said, "I read your blog sometimes." I (whom I shall refer to as "I" as in me or myself) was rather offended by his comment. Particularly the word sometimes. I didn't want to embarrass myself since he knows I am a preacher by throwing a fit, but sometimes??? He reads this blog sometimes? I would think he would awaken ... maybe have a cup of coffee or a couple of tylenol ... read the Bible and spend some time in prayer ... and then EVERY weekday check out my blog. That just seems the reasonable thing to do in the mornings.

So here's a suggestion (which is stupid since most of you reading this probably already read my blog every weekday): When you awaken, spend some time in prayer. Spend some time in the Word. Then read my blog. That way, no matter how your days goes, no matter what happens to you or around you, you can always think, "At least I'm not that Greg England guy!" which will result in a tremendous spirit of gratitude. Just a suggestion ... you could probably read other blogs within this little community and come away with the same thought.

Have a great weekend. I'm having a wonderful time (except for schlepping sound stuff up two flights of stairs) with Randy / family!

Final (?) Blog for the Week

2006-03-15T06:27:00.000-08:00

This is my final post for this week, superseding the earlier final blog for the week. There is a remote chance that something may happen in DC that I'll feel compelled to share (mutual friends tell me they are not sure if Randy and I are good for each other or not, to which I respond, "You're right!"). But from Long Beach, this is it. Final post. Unless, of course, something horrible happens to one of my favorites on American Idol tonight causing me to blog-grieve. In that worst case scenario I'd have to actually update this blog with my absolute final final post from Long Beach!

[Update: American Idol was horrible! Stevie Wonder songs? Who decided they had to sing SW songs? I've never cared for Stevie and the song selections were pathetic. Not to mention, the judges thought Kellie was boring. If she didn't do anything but stand on stage and smile, it would be far from boring! But that's just one southern man's opinion.]

What better way to sign off for the week than to reveal to you some stunningly amazing news? I now know the plot underlying this season's 24! Click on this and hold on to your mouse! Since I was unable to pull myself away from doing absolutely nothing to watch 24 Monday evening, I turned to my trusted 24-advisor, humorist Dave Barry, for his keen analysis. Unfortunatley he is in Ireland pushing his latest book and drinking a lot. But here is what he had to say prior to Monday evening's episode:

Here is the situation as we begin tonight's episode: I have no idea. I missed last week. All I know is that Edgar went to that big Krispy Kreme store in the sky. Also Jack finally shot somebody in the thigh. Apparently she was an innocent woman, but sometimes Jack just gets to a point in his life where he has to shoot somebody in the thigh, and there she was. Also of course the Lethal Fatal Deadly Death Canisters of Doom are still loose in Southern California, where they have been seen shopping on Rodeo Drive as well as in the audience of the Jay Leno show.

That's all I know. I'm counting on you to keep this blog posted on tonight's developements. I'll be reading your comments from Ireland, where Ridly and I will be strumpeting for our book Tuesday. Of course if, God forbid, anything happens to Chloe tonight, we will cancel everything and go straight home.

Personally, I find Dave's blogs on 24 to be far more entertaining than the actual show. As the final credits were rolling on Monday, I did ask Janice how many other CTU agents died. Four. If they get rid of enough cast members, they may bring this thing under budget and make some money!

On a very serious note, my heart goes out to our friend, Judy, and her sister Doris, with the death of their brother. This small blog community has become my second spiritual family and I feel a deep sense of nearness to each of you. Our love goes out to our sisters and their family.

Paul's "S-Bomb"

2006-03-14T06:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I'm blogging again and it's not the middle of next week, but here's an interesting thought from my study last week ... at least it was of interest to me.

Paul was a man consumed by God's grace. His letters begin with grace and everything he writes is seasoned with grace. As John Ortberg observes, grace is what knocked Paul to his knees over his sin, and grace is what removed the sin. Grace blinded his eyes and grace removed the scales from his eyes. Grace was Paul's thorn in the flesh to keep him from being destroyed by arrogance and God's grace was sufficient for him. Paul never recovered from the wonder of grace! (Paraphrased)

While on his knees on that road toward Damascus, Paul realized all of his accomplishments in life, including his pedigree, were nothing compared to the grace of God. In his own words:

I once thought all these things [see verses 4-6] were so very important, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the priceless gain of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. (Philippians 3:7-8 NLT)

The word translated in the New Life Translation as worthless is the Greek word, skubala (some would render it skybala), and the Philippian passage is the only time it is used in the New Testament. Other translations render the word "dung" or "garbage" or "refuse" ... words that are far too polite in translation. We've all pretty much known this, but I looked up the definition of skubala in Colin Brown's New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology and found his comments rather insightful.

In secular Greek this depressing word means rubbish and muck of many kinds: excrement, rotten food, bits left at a meal as not worth eating, a rotting corpse. Nastiness and decay are the constant elements of its meaning; it is a coarse, ugly, violent word implying worthlessness, uselessness, and repulsiveness.... (New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, Vol.3, p.480.)

To get a modern feel for what Paul was saying, think in terms of a bumper sticker ... as in: Skubala Happens! It's a word that, when I used it at a younger age, resulted in my mouth being washed out with soap! Too often to recall. And when I use that "s-word" today (in a context that allows for it, such as "Okay, which one of you stepped in dog skubala and tracked it in the house?"), my wife is not very happy with me. It's a southern thing but somehow she missed out on this part of southern things, so I don't use it much. At least not where she can hear me. I typically reserve it for elder's meetings. :)

Paul said, in essence, anything that would keep him from living in grace - no matter how good it otherwise might be - is skubala. I have a new appreciation for Paul ... not that he would use a word that might get my mouth washed out with soap, but that he considered grace such a wonderful gift that everything in comparison is skubala! Because I come from a heritage that has so limited and misunderstood grace, it had no power whatever to change our lives. Grace was taught as the distance God came to us when we'd done all within our power to please him by our works. How wrong we were!! And for those who still view it that way, how wrong they are! Grace gives power to love, and I live in and for grace. I serve the Lord from grace and I try to dispense grace as best I can. And though I fail miserably to live in and by grace at times, it is still my highest desire and it's what keeps me going every day.

Soooooooooo... what are some things that keep us from living in and by grace? I have some opinions, but I'd like to hear from you first.

Temporarily Closed

2006-03-12T16:50:00.000-08:00

Due to my being out of town until Monday, March 20, my blog site is temporarily closed. Actually it isn't closed or you wouldn't be reading this. You can still look at previous blogs and some of them, quite frankly, are worth a second look. But you'll look long and hard to actually find one that's worth a second look! Go ahead ... try it ... I dare you!

Anyway, unless something really important or exciting or boring or just plain interesting happens in my life (ha!), I'll not be blogging until I return home. And since I'm not coming home until late that evening (March 20), it may be middle of next week before you hear from me again.

Hope you had a good weekend. Ours was COLD and windy and just enough rain to make driving tricky. Enjoyed a 65th birthday celebration for a friend on Saturday. Janice cleaned out our closet and I actually have room for shoes! (You have no idea what an accomplishment that was.) Had a good day at "the Beach" on Sunday. Restored an injured relationship with a friend. Rehearsed for about three hours with our praise band, so my fingertips are very tender and it's hurting just to type on this keyboard. I'll catch up with you later!

2006-03-09T19:40:00.000-08:00

I have no idea which season of American Idol we're in, but it's the first year I've become interested at all in the show. Didn't watch much of the preliminary stuff where they decide the final 24, but have tuned in since then. From 92,000 hopefuls to 12! To a person, those who have been eliminated the past couple of weeks say it was a blessing beyond belief just to make it that far.

As I write this, we're 20 minutes away from the elimination show for this week. My favorite of the guys is the chubby gray-headed guy from (where else?) Alabama, Taylor. But the bald-headed guy (Chris?) is pretty good, as is the long haired Ace. Not that it has any impact in my life, but I would be happy with any of the three. I'm predicting the Donny Osmond looking guy and Kevin go home tonight. But America seems to be as enamoured with Kevin as is Paula Abdul-Jabbar!

My favorite of the girls is the little blonde country singer from North Carolina ... Kelli, I think is her name. She's cute as a button and has an incredible voice. But she's up against some tough competition. I know it will come down to just one girl and one guy, but I'd be happy with any of the girls left in the competition.

I have no idea why I'm blogging this, but for at least a few short weeks in 2006, I have a life on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights enjoying some wonderful talent and Simon's comments. So far I think he has been right on with every singer, but I'd hate to hear what he might have to say about my singing!!

Thursday results:
Guys Gone:
Will Makar. I'm surprised, but only that he made it this far.
Gedeon McKinney. I've never seen a warmer smile Great voice, and he's a believer!!!

Gals Gone:
Kinnik Sky. No surprise.
Ayla Brown. This surprised me. You couldn't help but feel her pain.

How cruel is it to make those going home re-sing the song that sent them home??

Next week I'll be in DC area on Wednesday / Thursday ... I hope the Wrays have a life ... an American Idol life!

Church Leader's Forum

2006-03-09T06:17:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend, I was a part of the second "Church Leader's Forum" sponsored by Pepperdine School of Law. Specifically, the Strauss Institute for Dispute Resolution. Professor Randy Lowery (former director for the Strauss Institute, now president of David Lipscomb University), and Larry Sullivan (associate director of the Strauss Institute) decided a couple of years ago to bring together church leaders, not to hear lectures, but to sit in a small group forum and share ideas. They called several people together to discuss it and then put it together last year, not having any idea how many people would support it.

We had about 140 or so last year, representing over 30 congregations in California. This year we had around 60 - 70 people, still representing around 30 congregations. I was asked to facilitate sessions again this year. Our sessions were much smaller and, in my opinion, much better. Last year I had as many as 30 participants in a session. I also had one session where no one showed up, but it was against a standing-room-only session discussion women's role in the church. My session was on the topic, "When Your Church Is Growing Smaller." I never had a chance, but I think had they scheduled the women's role discussion first and then my session, it would have been a natural follow up for churches of Christ expanding women's role!

This year I had 6, 8 and 14, respectively in the three sessions involving myself. We had about 90 minutes alloted to each session. You might think it would be a formidable task to keep strangers talking for an hour and a half, but we actually left each session wishing we had more time! We enjoyed a great exchange of experiences, ideas, and questions. The spirit among the people was far more positive this year. Last year we had people from much broader theological perspectives, which was good, but it led to some hurt feelings and people not feeling as free to express their views.

One lady in my first session particularly impressed me. She was about my age (just over a youngster) and had grown up completely unchurched. The holiest place she'd known growing up was school! In our discussion of Obstacles to Outreach, I asked her what drew her to the church of Christ in Culver City. One thing, in her words, was the incredibly beautiful acappella singing. In all the other churches she visited (and this is not a criticism of any other churches), she said she hated the church organ! (For the record, if you keep records, I hate church organs, too.) As a lover of singing and hoping to some day sing in a church choir (that would be chorus to us coC-ers), she was ecstatic over being a part of a church choir that involved everyone!

Another factor that brought her into the kingdom was simply a willingness on the part of the preacher to giver her his business card with an offer to study the Bible with her at any time. She was hungering for that and had received no offers from the other churches.

Bottom line? The family atmosphere of the church ... a much older lady who effused her love of that church family so much she never wanted to miss being with them. Our new sister wanted that kind of church family. She wanted to love others and be loved as this lady loved and was loved by her spiritual family. Who doesn't want that kind of church family?! After only 8 months in the Lord and working through a divorce, this lady is already radiant with the joy of finding the Lord and a true family.

When it comes to evangelism, though, the greatest obstacle is .... (shades of Blue Like Jazz) ... simple. It's me. The church of which I am a part is only as evangelistic as I am evangelistic! Pretty simple, isn't it? Doesn't really take a church leader's forum to figure that one out.

In the final session involving me, we were discussing worship as an outreach. I mentioned that several times we'd completely thrown out everything we'd planned for a given Sunday to simply minister to someone in need, giving a couple of examples. The others (especially some of the old time elders) loved the idea that we could do that, but were absolutely stunned that anyone would have the guts to not go through the "acts of worship" that constitute a given Sunday morning! And to a person, they all had stories of when that should have happened in their church and didn't happen and the awkwardness of going through a ritual while ignoring an obvious need.

I suggested to my friend, Larry, that next year we explore a radical idea that just might have transforming power in all of our churches ... getting rid of the bulletin! Imagine what the Holy Spirit could do if not limited by our bulletins and church worship schedules?! I fully convinced many, if not most, church-goers who do make it to heaven will expect (if not demand) a bulletin upon entering the gates of Glory!

2006-03-08T07:52:00.000-08:00

Geez ... how many cast members can they kill in a single episode? I don't know their names, but I've seen enough of 24 to recognize them as regulars ... until Monday night. I told you earlier this season when you have canisters, it's just bad news! Put those canisters (any canister) in the hands of terrorists with strange accents and that bad news gets worse!

Here's what turns me off about 24, a show I can't seem to avoid so far this season: Nobody, NOBODY, can take that much stress in a single day! Each show begins with: "The following events occur between..." and then they tell you what hour of the season you're watching. That many events couldn't normally occur between January 1 and March 23, let alone a twenty-four hour day.

The somewhat attractive girl computer operator ... the chunky-guy computer operator ... numerous not-so-well-known CTU agents ... possibly Jack's friend w/ the burn on his face who lost his wife ... all dead. Nerve gas from one of those darned canisters! Didn't I warn you this wasn't good? Could it be this is the final season? With everyone else, is Jack going to finally die. I mean really die? Is this what inevitably happens to a show that's the product of the Random Plot Generator? Can next season possibly rate as high when so many people have died this season? With all the deaths, why hasn't someone killed that whimpy president yet? Can I stop asking questions and finish this blog?

Sometimes I wish the kids were home again. With just the two of us home, if I want to be where Janice is on Monday nights, then I have to endure another episode of 24. And this week, two episodes! I suppose if Jack Bauer can calmly go through any given day of his life, I can endure 60 minutes a week of this fantasy.

Catch ya later ... I'm going on eBay. See if I can find some canisters. Stir up a little action in our church!

A Sad Reminder

2006-03-07T06:15:00.000-08:00

"Memories of the times we shared together will remain in my heart forever. You are my heart and my soul mate for life. Now that you are gone, my life will never be the same again. You made me whole and complete, and the happiest person in the world. Every night I lay in bed wondering what my life will like tomorrow ... but nothing seems to bring a smile to my face. I cry because of how much I miss you. The pain of losing you plays over and over in my mind. I ask God, "Why Lord? Why my husband?" Your smile brought life for me each day, your warmth kept me on my feet, and your heart made me love you more and more each day.... So many questions come to my mind, but not enough answers...."

Those are the words of a wife for her husband of 50 days. They were married on January 1 and he died on February 19 of a brain aneurysm. Sudden and without warning. I directed his funeral this Monday. Those are the tough funerals. Right up there with children and infants.

Can you imagine having to bury your spouse of 50 days? In an instant, all of your dreams become a recent memory? Though we've been together three decades, I never want to take my wife for granted. Nor my children. Or friends! Maybe this blog will help us be more generous in spirit with one another as we never know when our days on this earth are going to quickly come to an end.

A World at War

2006-03-06T06:33:00.000-08:00

Cecil gave me a book for Christmas, Waking the Dead, by John Eldredge. Since it's only March, I decided to start reading it. I'm only into chapter three, and not only do I highly recommend it, I want to share some of John's words to encourage you this week!

In chapter three, he's writing about Daniel's revelation and his subsequent mourning for three weeks (Dan.10:1-3). Here's where I'll let Eldredge speak to you:

Something has happened that Daniel doesn't understand. I think we can all relate to that. We don't understand about 90 percent of what happens to us, either. Daniel is troubled. He sets out to get an answer. But three weeks of prayer and fasting produce no results. What was he to conclude? If Daniel were like most people, by this point he'd probably be headed toward one of two conclusions: I'm blowing it, or God is holding out on me. He might try confessing every sin and petty offense in hopes of opening up the lines of communication with God. Or he might withdraw into a sort of disappointed resignation, drop the fast, and turn on the television. In an effort to hang on to his faith, he might embrace the difficulty as part of "God's will for his life." He might read a book on "the silence of God." That's the way the people I know handle this sort of thing.

And he would be dead wrong.

On the twenty-first day of the fast an angel shows up, out of breath. In a sort of apology, the angel explains to Daniel that God had actually dispatched him in answer to Daniel's prayers the very first day he prayed--three weeks ago. (There goes the whole unanswered prayer thesis, right out the window.) Three weeks ago? What is Daniel to do with that? "The very first day? But ... I've ... I mean, thank you so very much, and I don't want to seem ungrateful, but ... where have you been?" You haven't blown it, Daniel, and God isn't holding out on you. The angel goes on to explain that he was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a mighty fallen angel, a demonic power of dreadful strength, who kept him out of the Persian kingdom for three weeks, and he finally had to get Michael (the great archangel, the captain of the Lord's hosts) to come and help him break through enemy lines. "Now I am here, in answer to your prayer. Sorry it's taken so long."

Eldredge gives us a couple of things to chew on here. One, this is a world at war! In his words,

"We live in a far more dramatic, far more dangerous story than we ever imagined." He goes on to say that without this fact burning in our hearts, we lose the meaning of our days. "It all withers down to fast food and bills and voice mail and who really cares anyway?"

This fact--that we live in a war--is the fact that forces us to live by faith. Interestingly, those who try to remind us of this fact ... Jesus, the prophets, the disciples, the biblical writers ... were killed to shut them up!

The other morsel to chew on: we have a crucial role to play in this war. Obviously, John develops these points in greater detail (and using a lot of references to things that don't interest me, nor do I understand by my choice: Lord of the Rings ... Matrix ... Star Wars). God has given us a role in this war and to fail to recognize this is to fail to live the life to which we are called. It's more than going to church and being religious. It is to take on the full armor of God and step up to the battle line.

Ouch! So maybe it isn't all that encouraging, but it certainly is a necessary perspective from which to walk out our days on earth.

Just Another Day

2006-03-03T06:06:00.000-08:00

I told my wife the other day I'm about ready to let this part of my life go ... the blogging that is, not her! When I began blogging last May, I made a commitment w/ myself to blog each weekday so I would be aware each day of something worth my attention. Look for some way that God was speaking ... trying to get my attention. An opportunity to be His ambassador. A chance to help somone or be helped by someone. Some days I really have to stretch to come up with a blog. This (Thursday) has been one of those days.

Not that today was void of anything significant ...

I did a "live scan" at the police department as a part of the prerequisites for taking the state board exam to become a licensed funeral director. (I take the exam in late July, so much of my summer until then will be in study for this obstacle to my future income!)

I spent some time on the phone with my son ... enjoying hearing about his day and sharing in it, even if from a distance.

I talked with my daughter for a few minutes and found out she wasn't coming home this weekend. Rats!

Spent time on the phone with a good friend ... he had a good day following some surgery yesterday.

Made another call to a dear friend awaiting news of a medical test. Nothing yet.

Fine tuned a fine sermon for Sunday.

Quick trip to Guitar Center to look at some sound stuff . . .

Got the oil changed in my car.

Finished up some prep work for the church leader's forum up at Pepperdine Law School this weekend.

Worked on some songs, both guitar and percussion. Picked up three new worship CDs for some ideas / arrangements.

Stopped by the mortuary and visited with friends (the people working there, not the stiffs). Picked up a job for Monday morning that will require most of my day. People at the mortuary really appreciate it when we part-timers take on those funerals.

Had dinner with my wife and watched Chipper inhale two large cans of dog food. The expensive kind. Heaven forbid that she (Chipper, not Janice) would develop a taste for the Sam's / Wal Mart brand of dog food! Nope, she's gotta have the stuff that's 29 cents more per can! Pedigree.

Watched American Idol (fast forwarding w/ DVR). So far my favorite male and female singers are still in the running. This is the first year I've had any interest in this show.

Read more in a good book given to me by Cecil.

Nothing amazing. Nothing clever. Nothing earth-shattering. Nothing really spiritually inspiring. Just a more-or-less routine day in my life. You know what? Some times I just thoroughly enjoy a day when nothing spectacular happens!

Hope you have a wonderful weekend.

Am I Available?

2006-03-02T07:07:00.000-08:00

I linked off of Steve Thurman's blog site to one called "don't call me Veronica" and found an interesting question: How available should a pastor be? That site linked me to a radio show by XXX Church (helps Christians get off of porn) where the two pastors of XXX Church called some of the larger churches across America simply requesting to speak to the preacher / pastor. Of the numerous calls they made, only one preacher agreed to speak with them. If you have DSL and about 20 minutes to listen, it's interesting and a bit convicting.

I will always take a phone call from the members of our church family, but refuse to take calls from sales people. Big Clue: when they act as if I'm their best friend and call me by my first name, it's a sales call. After 30 years of ministry, I have my secretary screen people who come in off the street and want to speak to "the pastor." I really don't mind talking with people who have legitimate needs. Most of them have the same story and really want nothing more than whatever money they can get from you. So I have Sharon break the news to them that we don't have money available to give away. Nor do we have a budget for paying people's monthly expenses.

But I was somewhat convicted by the radio show because to the stranger, I'm not easily available. But your response to the question posed on the blog is of interest to me: Just how available should the preacher be? For that matter, how available are you?

The Return of Jesus

2006-03-01T09:07:00.000-08:00

It's happened again. This time in Connecticut. Jesus showed up on a $15.49 piece of sheet metal at Hardy's Hardware. While unloading a shipment of sheet metal (can you say "shipment of sheet metal" 10 times really fast?), Thomas Haley noticed an oil stain that, in his opinion, resembled the face of Jesus. He and a buddy quickly set aside the piece and purchased it for the purpose of selling it on eBay. If you are interested, you have until March 8. But you're up against at least 32 other interested parties and the bid is up to $1,025 the last time I checked.

This fascinates me ... how hundreds or thousands of people will flock to a church to see a piece of cloth that supposedly has the outline of Christ on it. Or a statue that is crying blood and tears. Or a piece of cinnamon toast that has the image of Mother Teresa on it. A priest in New Jersey was cleaning up around the altar in his church when he noticed a statue of Christ wink its right eye at him! I'm sure the attendance at his church will explode as the news leaks out to the masses. We are still awaiting the word from "experts" as to whether or not we have a verifiable miracle in New Jersey. I'm all aflitter with anticipation!

No doubt about it, Jesus is alive and among us and quite visible ... in such things as our loving and serving and being compassionate and humble and extending grace and forgiveness toward others and being generous and hospitable. Perhaps if these expressions of Christ in us were more evident, people would be flocking to churches because of the risen Christ rather than the resemblancs of Christ.

For the record, not everyone agrees the image on the sheet metal is that of Christ. Some actually see Jim Morrison's face! Personally, I see a very blurry Dracula, but that's just me, so I'm not going a penny over $1,150 in my bidding.

P.S. I just had eBay calculate shipping costs to Long Beach. Almost $50, so I'll have to re-think my highest bid.

On Being a Jerk

2006-02-28T06:45:00.000-08:00

Bake-n-Broil is a very popular restaurant just across the street from our church and, for years, has relied on our church parking lot for its customer base.

About 5 or 6 times a year, we use our lower parking lot for either a huge annual yard sale to support our youth camp, or for car washes, or a funeral. On those days we need the lot, someone has to go out late at night (usually around midnight) and rope off the lower lot, otherwise by 5:30 the next morning the lot is half full.

Last Friday night I waited up until after midnight to rope off the lot for a local high school baseball team to sponsor a car wash. Bake-n-Broil was having carpets cleaned so I gave up after midnight ... setting out three "No Parking" signs, tying them together with high visibility yellow "caution" tape and leaving just enough room for the cars in the lower lot to leave out. I'm thinking surely no one will drive around three signs and yellow tape to park there the next morning. I was wrong. Someone in a green Ford Ranger was parked right in the way of the car wash that would take place that day.

I called Bake-n-Broil and asked if they had a customer or employee parked in the lot. The lady on the line told me it was one of their employees. Drawing on years of training and experience in interpersonal relationships, and just my ability to generally get along with others, I informed her that if the truck was not moved immediately, I would have it towed. She assured me the owner would be right out and I assured her that I would be there to speak to that owner. Keep in mind (though this is no excuse for me being a jerk), I had been up late the night before and early that morning. I was not in a very good mood. Hadn't slept well because of a sore throat. The sweetest looking teen age blonde came out to move her truck.

Enter Greg. Husband. Father. Christian. Preacher. Psychologist. Nice guy. Blogger. JERK!

"Did you not see the signs?"

"Yes, I saw them but I didn't know what they were for because they were here last night when I left."

"But you drove around three signs telling you not to park here to park here!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm moving my truck right now."

Then she gave me that roll of the eyes and that look that only a woman (sorry, ladies ... we have our faults and many are they, but you have perfected that look) can give that said I was a moron for even questioning her judgment. And that look ticked me off. I told her, "From now on, you can park on the street or around the corner or behind the restaurant, but I don't ever want to see your truck in this parking lot." I'm pretty sure Jesus would have said the same thing ... it was one of those righteous indignation moments, sort of like throwing the money changers out of the temple. At least in my mind it was.

She said, "Well God bless you today, too!" and got in her truck, very upset, and pulled out giving me that look as, through her tears, we made eye contact. But, hey! I was right, she was wrong. Easy call.

Except I felt horrible. I told Janice, "I really blow it this morning." (She thought I'd eaten some of the donuts the team had brought for breakfast. If only....) I told her what I did and she wasn't surprised. "Satan sure is working through you, isn't he?" I wish just for once my wife could be as lowdown and rotten as I can be ... just so we could communicate / fellowship on this level. Just once! No, I don't. But it felt good to write that! We went to get breakfast and I told her I needed to go make things right with that girl.

When I walked up to her in the restaurant, she had a different look. A look that said, "Oh no! I've got to deal with that jerk again?" I said, "I really need to apologize to you for this morning. I was very unkind to you and you deserved none of it. I'm very sorry for the way I treated you and just wanted to let you know that and ask your forgiveness."

Her body language was dramatic and immediate as she relaxed and said, "Oh no, I was wrong! I should never have parked there." I replied, "Right or wrong, I treated you horribly and was not a very good example of a Christian." I then gave her $5.00 and told her if she had time, to take her truck back over there and have it washed on me. She hugged me and thanked me for coming over. The best $5 I spent this past weekend.

It doesn't take a lot to be a jerk. It comes almost naturally for me. Just the right person, the right circumstance, the right attitude and, presto! Jerk!

It doesn't take a lot to say, "I'm sorry," either. For the most part, I don't mind telling someone that I'm sorry for how I've acted. I just wish I could do more on the front end so I don't have to apologize so often.

The Wrath of God

2006-02-27T06:15:00.000-08:00

I suppose it's only fitting that I should follow up a blog / confession of cheating on a Bible test with something to do with God's wrath! If you've been a faithful reader of my blogs, you know that when I was a senior in high school and didn't cheat on Bible tests, I actually made an F the semester we took on Revelation. If I ever sit on a preacher search committee, I'm going to ask some of these questions!

Anyway, while reading and thinking through a sermon series on Paul's letter to the Roman believers, I decided to take more of a thematic approach than a verse-by-verse approach. One of the first themes we run into is that of the wrath of God. I'd never given a lot of thought to that other than from an escatological perspective; that is, in the end of time God's wrath will be revealed in judgment.

The wrath of God is not a sudden rush of divine emotion brought on by our sin. Rather, his wrath is as consistent as his love. His nature against sin is wrath. A holy God must display wrath against any offense to his holiness or that being cannot be God.

However, Romans offers a bit of an interesting insight into the wrath of God. A perspective to which I'd never given much thought. (Perhaps had I done less cheating and more studying in junior high I would have known this!) Paul says we have no excuse for not knowing God, that nature reveals that God exists (1:19) and we, in our wickedness, suppress that knowledge and turn to worshipping the created rather than the Creator. All the signs pointed to God, and we worshipped the signs, never seeing God! That progression away from God leads to unspeakable sins: homosexuality, greed, hate, envy, murder, fighting, deception, malice, backstabbing, insolence, pride and boasting, hating God, heartlessness, unforgivness, disobedience to parents, and one of our all-time favorite sins, gossip! His point, though, is that there comes a time when God, in his grace, will allow us the full passion of our hearts (v.24). He will not force us to acknowledge nor worship him.

For example, Pharoah instinctively knew God existed, but suppressed the evidence of nature to worship nature instead of God who is evidenced by nature. The "plagues" of Exodus are not plagues at all. Rather, they are God's attempt to dismantle the deities of Egypt so that Pharoah would reject them and worship Him. One by one, God proves the gods of Egypt are powerless and pathetic. At one point, we read a puzzling statement: God hardened Pharaoh's heart. I've wrestled with that statement for years. Why would God harden Pharaoh's heart and then punish him for a hardened heart? Never made sense and the commentators didn't helped much.

In light of Romans, perhaps a better statement would be that God strengthened Pharaoh's heart. He had given Pharaoh 10 opportunities to reject the worship of nature and embrace the worship of the Creator, and Pharoah was determined to reject God. So God did to Pharaoh what we read in Romans. He gave the king over to do whatever shameful things his heart desired (Rom.1:24). Rather than hardening Pharaoh's heart, God simply strengthened what Pharaoh was intent on doing ... rejecting His grace and mercy and power.

I want to sit on the side and, in my self-righteousness, think "At least I'm not as bad as that rascalion Pharaoh!" Yet, if I allow the Word of God to reveal my true heart, books could be written describing my wickedness ... were it not for the blood of Jesus! Case in point: Tomorrow's blog.

I've wanted to preach through Romans for years and now I'm almost ready to start the journey with our church family. When all is said and done, if I can't say:

I am saved by grace to live by faith ...

The more I try to please God, the less I'll walk by faith in what he is accomplishing in and through me (I plan to blog more on this whole "law" issue later) ...

I am right with God because of His righteousness and that I can stop trying to be good enough and start relaxing in what he's done ...

Then I have failed to understand Romans.

[Note of clarification: When I say the more I try to please God, the less I walk by faith, I am referring to an attitude / theology that is prevalent among us. Legalism. That somehow, by keeping law I can do enough to please God or do enough of the right things to earn his favor. As I understand it, the law was never given because God thought we could keep it. The law was given because we could never keep it. Paul says it was the law and our inability to keep the law that drives us to Christ and to God's grace. Romans tells me I must rely completely on the grace of God ... and in doing so I will serve God out of gratitude and love. Which pleases him greatly! I intended that statement to have some shock value because I think many of us (myself included, years ago) have to be shocked into accepting Paul's perspective. A main argument in Romans is that the Jews thought they had it made because they had the law. We have a modified version of their attitude. It's called patternism ... that God is pleased when we do everything right.]

A Bit of Chocolate

2006-02-24T06:45:00.000-08:00

One of our "favorite" (inside joke) Pepperdine speakers introduces a point as if he were offering the class a piece of chocolate. So when I finally come to the point of this blog, consider it a piece of chocolate!

Throughout my school career, the one subject I consistently hated was English. Grammar. Writing. Spelling. Literature. Essays. Term papers. Poetry. I hated it all. May have something to do with growing up in the deep south where English was so foreign to our ears!

My junior high English teacher was Mrs. Fulmer. As a junior high student, I could not stand Mrs. Fulmer simply because she was tough. Marine drill instructor tough. She didn't put up with anything from us and demanded we give it our very best.

Later, I attended David Lipscomb College (university now) and had as my English professor the daughter of Mrs. Fulmer, Dr. Constance Fulmer. Against the advice of virtually everyone who gave such advice, I signed up for Dr. Fulmer's English classes and, like her mother, she was one tough professor. So I had a hate / love relationship with Dr. Fulmer. Hated her toughness, but loved her classes because she did what I thought was impossible: She actually made English interesting! Even English literature, as in British literature. I think I signed up for her classes for every required English course. She worked us hard, but I kept coming back for more.

Last week I discovered Dr. Fulmer is a department chairperson and professor at Pepperdine. I emailed her and we've exchanged a couple of "letters" now and I hope to meet up with her during this year's lectureship.

Oh yes, the chocolate. You'll find this all but impossible to believe, but in junior high school I was caught cheating on ... you guessed it ... a Bible test! (Please go easy on me in your responses.) Though this did not directly involve Mrs. Fulmer, she found out about it and kept me after class one day. I'll never forget the look of disappointment in her face, nor the words of wisdom that impacted my life from that moment on. She said, in essence, "Greg, you're a better person that this." I found myself wanting to live up to her expectation of me. It was one of my first tangible experiences of grace.

Anyway, I look forward to seeing Dr. Fulmer in May because I want to tell her just what an impact her mother had in my life. I hope I can use correct grammar in this conversation ... get that "you / me ... you / I" thing in the right order! I hope she'll be around the Malibu Fish Company, which is where Randy and I will be co-teaching a three day class.

Ramblings

2006-02-23T06:47:00.000-08:00

Thanks to all who prayed for Heather's grand- mother, Natalie Bither. She finally had the surgery scheduled for Thursday morning on Friday evening, about 8:30. Got out of surgery three hours later. We saw her Saturday morning around noon and she ... just over 12 hours out of major surgery ... looked better than I do on a good day! (Those of you who normally respond to my blog, especially Randy, can leave that last comment alone! Completely alone!!!) The surgery on her spinal column was very successful. For the first time in years, she has feeling in her leg and can wriggle her toes! We were with her about 30 minutes and she never stopped wiggling her toes! She's such a sweetheart.

On Monday, though, she had an episode with her heart that gave the family a scare. Not a new thing, just something they would love for God to remove from her. Last I heard she was okay and the family was settling down from the jolt. Just keep the Bither's in your prayers. Thanks a $illion. [Update: On Tuesday night, Natalie was released to go home.]
(The Thomas Hardy graphic has nothing to do with Natalie's surgery ... I placed it there because I'm rambling and boring you with details!)

Josh and Heather took Jan and me to see the resort where their wedding will be held ... beautiful setting! I took pictures, but they didn't turn out very well. For one thing, the sun was shining directly into my face and, for another thing, I am not a very talented digital / camera / photography / thingy person. We also made the reservation for the after-rehearsal dinner ... which was a good thing because the restaurant manager was already booking up dates in July, including the date we need it. We had to take a larger, bit more expensive, banquet room. If I'd waited much longer, we would have been out of luck on more than one level as they serve the best bread sticks I've ever eaten anywhere at that place!!!

On the way home, my car would barely go ... sputtering ... dash warning light flashing (that's always a great feeling) ... people behind me on the 15 freeway acting as if I should be going faster than 35 in a 70mph zone. C'mon, it was an incline! Go figure, huh? I turned around to go back to Josh's and take his Tahoe home, but decided if I could limp home, I'd be ahead of the game. So we turned around (again) and headed back toward Long Beach. Car sputtering, no power for about 20 miles or so then it just started running fine. 70mph, no problem ... so long as I didn't try to pass, then the same symptoms. We limped home with the dash warning light on the entire trip. Not a trip I'd want to repeat. It was COLD and dark and rainy. The last thing I wanted was to have the car towed, when those tow truck drivers will carry one passenger but not two. We finally got to within distance of friends and I knew if the worst happened, I could count on friends to take care of us. I'm glad God brought good friends into my life. I took the car in for repairs ... $1,200 worth of repairs. Final cost to me: $104. For once, having that extended warranty paid off in spades.

Speaking of friends, I got a call from one of my closest friends asking if I would fly to where he lives and help out his praise band for a weekend. After letting our elders know I'd be out of town for a weekend in March (the weekend of my 53rd birthday), I called him back and told him I'd be glad to come. I think that maybe this now makes me someone of importance? Or maybe not.

I'm Really Trying

2006-02-21T14:05:00.000-08:00

For those of you who are 24 / Jack Bauer fans and may have missed Monday night's episode, you obviously are prehistoric and do not own a digital video recording device. So being the generous guy I happen to be, I'm giving you a link to Dave (my favorite non-spiritual author) Barry's review of the Feb. 20 episode. You can generously thank me later! (Click on this sentence for the review.)

Last Sunday I preached from John 9, the man born blind and healed by Jesus. The point I was making is that if we are to love God and love others as an extension of God's love, then we must learn to see through the eyes of Jesus. The disciples saw the man (but failed to be moved with compassion) as a theological discussion. The Pharisees saw the man as a violation of Sabbath and a threat to their authority. The parents were too scared to do much more than say, "Ask him, he's of age," after being threatened with synagogue expulsion by the Pharisees. The neighbors had ignored the man for so many years, they weren't sure who he was! But Jesus first of all actually saw the man, and saw an opportunity for the grace and power of God to shine.

With that week of study and sermon fresh on my mind, I took a funeral Tuesday morning. Graveside up in Inglewood just across the street from the Great Western Forum where Three Dog Night held a concert years ago and, I'm sure, other events of importance have taken place. The man being buried was a member of the gay community, as were the friends who came to say their farewells. I have a very low tolerance for the gay community and the behavior they insist that I embrace, or at least tolerate. They were calling each other, "Sweetie" and I found that just a bit out of my zone of comfort.

On the other hand, they are human beings and God's children just as I am God's child in a universal sense, and I know that I need to set aside prejudice, political posturing, political correctness and learn to see everyone through the eyes of Jesus ... as people through whom the grace and love and power of God just may shine. So I was very conscious of the need to be Jesus to them. To see beyond their culture and treat them as I would treat any human being.

I tried. I really tried today to do just that. I simply tried to be the person to them that God would be to them had Jesus been the funeral director. It didn't come naturally nor very easily, but they thanked me after the service for all the help our mortuary had been. Jim, the significant other to the man buried, was very appreciative of all we did. And I thought about how very appreciative I am of all that God has done in my life. I may not be living a lifestyle of rebellion againt God, but I certainly have attitudes and thoughts and actions from time to time that are just as displeasing as the most blatant sinner. And God's wrath against sin, mine included, is a consistent wrath. Just as consistent as his love.

Angels

2006-02-20T06:05:00.000-08:00

I wrestled for two days with the decision ... do I get up at 5am and make the drive to Pepperdine School of Law (50 miles) or do I just skip the meeting and get whatever I need to know from my friend, Larry? By Thursday evening something was prodding me to set the alarm and make the drive. Normally it would take less than an hour to drive 50 miles, but this is "the city, Los Angeles, California," in the immortal words of Stg. Joe Friday. And a morning commute can take hours, not to mention the stress level that comes with such a drive.

I arrived at 7:30 for an 8:00 meeting, which turned out to be more of a prayer meeting than informational. We were praying for an upcoming "Church Leader's Forum" to be held at the Law School the first weekend in March. I will speak for one and facilitate three of the who-knows-how-many sessions over the weekend.

After the meeting, I walked out on the balcony overlooking the main campus and the Pacific Ocean with Larry and just took in the spectacular view. I was reminded of a time several years ago when I was taking a course in mediation and conflict resolution at the law school and President Clinton was to arrive on campus later that afternoon for a fund-raiser in Malibu. Helicopter gunships sat motionless out on the horizon at about a quarter mile, with other gunships further out. The campus was surrounded by very high-tech, high calibre protection. I was impressed. I was also glad that I left the campus literally moments before Clinton's entourage. I could see them in my rear-view mirror less than an eighth of a mile behind me.

I told Larry as we prayed, that whole scenario came to mind, only instead of helicopter gunships sitting out on the horizon at various distances, I imagined God's angels surrounding the school, protecting this forum from the onslaught of Satan (not to suggest any metaphorical relationship between Satan and Bill Clinton. Now Hillary????). I just wish I could remember on a daily basis that his angels do surround and protect me. I guess I don't because it's just such an awe-inspiring thought ... almost too much to wrap this finite mind around.

An Overdue Visit

2006-02-17T06:05:00.000-08:00

Thursday afternoon, my co-partner in crime (Ken) and I went out to a convalescent home to visit with a dear lady, Clarice. When I entered her room, she said, "Well, Greg England!" I was embarrassed to be visiting her since I'd not seen her in far too many months. (Ken and I regularly visit, but we see different "shut-ins" of our church.) We talked a while ... actually, I listened as she repeatedly told me how much pain she was in and how glad she was I came to see her. I would try to make conversation only to realize she wasn't hearing a word I said. I almost felt like I was preaching, what with her not listening and all! So I listened.

In the past we'd take Clarice out for lunch or dinner and she would fascinate us with stories from her childhood, including one that all but made my children drop their jaws. When she was a child, her family lived in the panhandle of Florida and her sister was "seeing" a boy from the next county. One evening a group of men rode up on horseback, wearing white hoods and robes and carrying torches. They warned her father about his daughter thinking she's too good to date the local boys! That was one of many stories from her life. My children had heard about the klan, but had never met anyone threatened by them! It was a bit of history (though be it dark history). She loved pizza and deli's and we enjoyed those meals together for a couple of years.

About three years ago, she sold her house and moved into a skilled care facility because of her inability to walk. Her journey has been pretty much downhill from that time until now. She is in constant pain. Doesn't hear very well. Speech is a bit slurred. Spends her days and nights trying to achieve the impossible -- getting comfortable. But she doesn't complain, just informs. She has a sweet spirit with an attitude to match.

At one point in the conversation, this lady who has sold or given away everything she'd ever owned, and is in very poor health overall said to me, "I'm thankful for all that I have." What a statement! Except for her poor health and some insurance coverage to pay her expenses, she has nothing of an earthly nature. Never had children. Has been a widow for many, many years. But she has a heart of gratitude for what she does have ... friends, church family, and most of all, Jesus and HOPE. I went there with Ken to try and encourage Clarice. I came away being encouraged by her. Come to think of it, she has all she really needs, and all that she can take from this life is love and relationship.

Keep Heather's grandmother, Natalie Bither, in your prayers. She is scheduled to have some pretty major surgery done today (Friday). She's a sweet grandmother.

On another subject altogether, you'll love this best blonde joke ever ... Hope you have a great weekend and that we're all around on Monday to "visit" again.

Critics

2006-02-16T06:15:00.000-08:00

I was listening to the morning news Tuesday regarding the latest on the riots occuring here in the Los Angeles County jail system. Two inmates are dead, numerous injured, the Mexican Mafia has been identified as the instigators of the riots, and the authorities are handling the situation according to SOP (Standard Operating Procedure), because when you are are in a governmnet position, everything must be handled according to SOP.

And since it is being handled according to SOP, which is approved (if not written) by politicians, one would not logically expect the situation to get any better! Prisoners are, however, being moved around in an attempt to contain the situation. We know the source of the problem, but no one has the guts to take on the Mexican Mafia. God forbid that anyone in that group have their "rights" violated! Who wants to mess with the ACLU just because a few prisoners are roughed up and a couple are dead? Just not worth the hassle.

What caught my attention is that now, after days and days of rioting, the social critics (unlike myself, who is merely an on-line blog critic, whose job is to point out other, real-life critics!) have decided to take things into their own hands. If anyone can pinpoint the heart of a problem and go straight to the solution, that person would be the critic. So, the solution to the mess here in Los Angeles? Simple ... stand around outside government buildings and protest!!

Have you ever noticed that protestors and critics never do much of anything else? They show up, let their voice be heard, if they are lucky they are captured by some news camera and shown for a split second on the evening news, then they go home leaving the situation the same. Their protests never resolve anything.

Happens in churches as well. I've been in the "biness" almost three decades. I've endured my share (and then some) of the critics. But I've yet to see the church critics actually involved in any of the ongoing ministry of the church! They come. They scowl. They leave (often early). And they complain. But they are never involved in anything of a positive, life-changing nature within the context of church ministry. I am grateful to say that some elderships have decided to no longer give the critic much attention. For the longest, the critics pretty much had the power because elders saw their role as maintaining peace while keeping the status quo. Which, by the way, never satisfies the critic! They just disrespect authority even more ... and continue to criticize.

Someone has said that no one ever erected a statue of a critic. Though I did make a passing grade in art appreciation, I'm not an art expert, but a quick search of Google revealed this statue in the Louvre that is known as the "statue of a critic." (Brady, I'll trust you to weigh in on this.) I guess someone finally did erect a statue of a critic. Interesting ... notice what she's holding in her right hand! That is the perfect portrayal of a critic for you.

Viewer's Guide to The 2006 Olympic Winter Games

2006-02-15T06:45:00.000-08:00

[Notes:
1. FYI: I did give my lovely bride of 31 years flowers (though she fussed at the cost); I had her lunch prepared when she came home; and I did take her out to dinner and then to Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory to get a favorite of hers ... candy-coated apple. I'm not the valentine ogre you mistake me to be!

2. A favorite author (non-spiritual) of mine is Dave Barry, a humorist out of Miami, Florida. As a favor to the public at large, Dave recently published his guide to the Winter Olympic Games ... which I humbly share with you(with no further comment) and, hopefully, not too late.]

It's time once again for the Winter Olympics -- three magical weeks during which all of America will gather in front of the television set to watch American Idol.

The Winter Games ... [is] a truly international gathering of athletes from all over the world, except for those parts of the world located in Africa, South America, Central America, Australia and large sectors of Asia.

The games officially began Friday night with an unforgettable opening ceremony, climaxing with the lighting of the Olympic torch by Italy's greatest and most beloved ski champion, Wayne Gretzky. (Note to editor: Please check this; I nodded off during the second unforgettable hour.)

I have prepared the following guide of Winter Olympic Events to watch:

FIGURE SKATING: In this dramatic and demanding sport, competitors must perform difficult skating maneuvers while dressed as swans and wearing enough makeup to spackle a four-bedroom house. And those are the men. Judges enter their scores into a computer, which calculates the results using an objective scientific formula, after which the Russians always win because they CHEAT.

BIATHLON: This fun sport was invented by the Norwegians, often called "The Yuckmeisters of Western Scandinavia." Rifle-toting competitors ski for a while, then shoot at targets, then ski some more, then shoot some more, then ski some more, then shoot some more, then ski some more, then shoot some more and so on until France surrenders.

THE LUGE: Competitors wearing Spider-Man costumes lie on their backs on tiny sleds and go down the bobsled run. The ones who survive (about 8 percent) are tested for drugs. If they don't contain any, they are declared legally insane.

THE SKELETON: This is the same as luge, except competitors go headfirst. The medal winners stand on a special "booster" podium because when they cross the finish line and hit the stopping barrier, their bodies are compressed to the height of a Pringles can.

CROSS-COUNTRY CURLING: In this greuling sport, competitors, using brooms to clear the way, race to see who can be the first to slide a heavy stone across Italy.

SKI-JUMPING WITH CELEBRITIES: This is a new sport, introduced this year to boost TV ratings. Competitors are sent down the ski-jump ramp, often leaving deep grooves for the entire length with their fingernails, then soar into space, where they encounter gravity. The heavily favored U.S. team consists of Erik Estrada, William Shatner, Nicole Richie, Lieutenant Uhura from Star Trek and the naked guy from Survivor.

BROKEBACK BOBSLED: This is another new sport, about which little is known, other than that, according to International Olympic Committee President Jacques Rogge, it "involves sheep."

Of course these are just a fraction of the Winter Olympics highlights. There will be plenty of other action in events such as the 500 meters, the 750 meters, the 1,000 meters, the 1,250 meters, the 1,300 meters, the 1,325 meters, and the 1,325.874 meters, to name just a few of the more exciting lengths. NBC is planning 17,000 hours of coverage, and you will not want to miss a single minute. So strap yourself into your Barcalounger and enjoy the show!

Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, for all you romance-challenged clowns out there who might not know the following information, I humbly submit it for the well-being of your love life. (Quite honestly, I didn't know this either!)

What color roses do you give the love of your life? Here are the meanings behind the various colors:

Red - Passionate love A single rose - "I love you"
White - Innocent, pure love
Yellow - Friendship
Coral / Orange - Enthusiasm, desire
Pink - Young love Dark pink - Gratitude
Pastel colors - Friendship
Red and White - Unity
Red and Yellow - Happiness
Lavender - Love at first sight

I'm 37 years too late with the lavender roses, but I'm thinking of a single red / white / coral / orange / dark pink rose if I can find it. Otherwise I may just have to buy my love something that says, "I love you!" as nothing else can say it. Something she doesn't already have. I'm thinking .... guitar???

Looking Good!

2006-02-13T06:43:00.000-08:00

I took a spiritual mini-retreat on Saturday ... just a short one to get away for a few minutes. As I was walking through the parking lot toward Wal Mart, I overheard a young lady on her cell phone. Wasn't hard to do, she was all but yelling into the phone, which is what Josh says I do. I think if I actually did that I would know it.

This girl was telling her friend she couldn't do something next week because her family was giving her mother a birthday party. Here's the part of the conversation I overheard: "Yeah, she's going to be 55 on Thursday ... but she looks really good for her age and still gets around very well...."

Wait a mintue!!!??? She looks good for her age? She gets around well for her age? At fifty-five? C'mon, I'll be 53 next month and I don't think I'm ready for people to be talking about me as "looking good" for my age, or "getting around well" for such an advanced age. I'll beat Randy to this next statement: Maybe they are already talking that way about me, but I'm still not ready for it. I wanted so badly to interrupt her phone conversation and ask her to be gentle with people our age. After all, one can be very fragile at such an old age.

On another front, our Sunday attendance was low. Lots of people out of town. Large youth group / parents gone to the mountains for a retreat. Result: Very little energy in our worship today. It's always good to be with my spiritual family, but I can't remember when I've tried to preach with such a low energy level as I experience this morning. Maybe it was a culmination of this past week's events? Be that as it may, more than the usual people came up to me to say something about the sermon (mostly positive!), so God still provides for emotional support when my energy is at its lowest. I think I needed to hear somebody say it was a good morning.

We did have Heather's family over on Saturday for dinner. (We didn't have them for dinner, as that would neither be very Christ-like nor very tasty! We had dinner with them. Did I need to explain that?) Anyway, it was so good to have all three of our children with us for the evening and to have Heather's mom, dad, sister, grandmama and grandaddy with us. Wonderful people. Wish we were closer so we could spend more time with them.

Got all the tax stuff gathered to deliver to our accountant! That's always a relief!!!!

Have a good week. See ya' back here tomorrow....

Super Bored XL

2006-02-10T06:19:00.000-08:00

[Before my week was placed on hold by the events of Monday night, I intended to post this blog. By now it's pretty much irrelevant, but since I went to the trouble of writing it last Sunday evening, I'll trouble you to read it!]

As you know, I'm not much of a sports fan. Don't have a problem with those who are, it's just something that I basically see as a waste of my time. So the Super Bowl is just another big event in the sports world that interests me very little. Except that I have to set up the video equipment so others who like that stuff can watch the game on the BIG screen over at the church.

We started SuperBowl Sunday about 8 years ago and it drew a lot of people. We had tons of food. Table games. Contests. Basektball (for the teens and adults who haven't discovered they are no longer teens). Half time games with prizes. It was fun because the game could be secondary to the other fun. Over the years the crowds have become smaller and smaller. There are no more half time events other than getting more food. Very few table games were being played this year. All in all, the church event was about as boring as the game itself, except that I was with people I love and enjoy hanging with. Not to blame anyone, I think it's just one of those events that was fun in the past and we probably should just let it die.

The commercials once were the only reason I'd watch a game, but not only have they become rather sleezy, the ones that aren't sleezy are just lame, for the most part. Certainly not worth $80,000+ / second!

But this year, the worst of the event was the half time show with the Rolling Stones. I know they have lots of fans out there and still bring in millions each year from concerts, but they were pathetic. The sound was horrible. Those guys are almost freaky to look at. Except for the people immediately surrounding the stage, the crowd in the stands seemed to hardly even notice what was happening mid-field. TiVo said they monitored the most-replayed parts of the game, and the half time show was the least replayed part of the event.

Why not bring in something at least contemporary? The Stones? They're 60+ years old and what's more pathetic than seeing Jagger prancing about in his teenage girly outfit? I don't know of any self respecting teenage boy that would wear the tight clothes with revealing midriff that Jagger wore, and we live in a very permissive culture here in Southern California. They might be a great act for some geriatric gala event, but not the SuperBowl. And aren't you glad there was no wardrobe malfunction w/ Mick?

Who's up for next year, the Dave Clark 5? Maybe Paul and Ringo will give us a Beatle's reunion, less two. Is Lawrence Welk's orchestra still doing gigs? Alvin and the Chipmonks???

I've vented enough. See you later ....

Prayer for Fred

2006-02-08T15:13:00.000-08:00

If you read this before Wednesday night (Feb.8), 11pm Pacific (you'll have to do the math to determine the time where you live), and you just happen to be awake, would you please say a prayer for a dear friend, Fred Stolle?

Fred has a very aggressive type of prostate cancer and went to Germany (his birth country) last year for a surgery that is not approved in the United States. They told him then there was a chance he'd have to have the procedure re-done. However, on those who have had the second surgery, the survival rate is 97%. So Fred and his wife, Diane, (members here at Long Beach Church) are in Germany and it will be Thursday morning when you offer your prayer.

Fred has a fascinating testimony he calls, "From the Swastika to the Cross"and I want him to share that testimony along with his healing in the near future! He was one of thousands of young boys caught up in Hitler's Brown Shirts during the war years but eventually came to America ... came to the Lord ... came to be a very wealthy and generous man ... and came to be my friend (perhaps the least of those accomplishments). But it will take the power and grace of God to pull him through this and he knows this. Fred and Diane covet your prayers, so thanks for joining with your brothers and sisters around the world in this offering to God. Thanks for caring. I'll let you know the results of the surgery and the prognosis as soon as I know something.

CSI: LONG BEACH

2006-02-08T06:31:00.000-08:00

I'll not bore you with the aftermath of our crime scene beyond this blog, but it's been an evening and a day of roller-coaster emotions. Through the course of the evening, we began to notice things missing that brought some degree of sadness. About the only "things" that I had belonging to my father are now gone, which is sort of interesting in that several years ago my son borrowed a diamond tie pin and it never got back in my drawer. He gave it to Janice who said she put it back, but it disappeared. I'd been somewhat upset beneath the surface over them losing that tie pin (which was my dad's). Now that everything I owned of Dad's is gone, that pin seems a non-issue now. All that time holding that regret ... what a waste of time.

It became more personal to Janice when she was getting ready to finally go to bed and noticed the thief had taken two of our pillowcases to haul off the items, including one of two cases that match our sheets! Don't mess with Janice's matching sheet sets! She actually called the theif a "stinker" which in her vocabulary is as close to something profane as she gets! Were I to use an equivalent word from my vocabulary, my mother would come back from the grave to wash my mouth out with soap!

I found it very difficult to go to sleep last night, thinking I needed to stay awake to protect us. I guess that's the man's role in a relationship (among other roles) ... protector. To be strong. I was surprised to awaken this morning and realize I'd actually fallen asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning.

During the day (Tuesday), aside from completing the police report and the insurance claim, I found myself just staying in the house. I guess it's that protecting mode working overtime. I finished my sermon and basically just stayed here. Just felt odd to even want to go anywhere else, though after supper we did take a two-mile walk. Even then, I kept thinking, "If we get back home and find it's been broken into again....." I guess that just takes time, too.

Wednesday I plan to do some proactive moves to better secure the place. I probably should start with getting rid of our worthless dog, but I love her too much. I just need to realize she is not bred to be a watch-dog. For that matter, I'm not really sure what she's bred to be other than a pest! The Crime Scene Officer and I had an interesting talk about home security and his thoughts on the various CSI TV shows. He watches them and finds them "entertaining." Interesting perspective. But I noticed in broad daylight, he sure used his little flashlight a lot, so that part of the show that I always found a bit pretentious seems to be somewhat factual.

The insurance adjuster has no idea just how much his check is going to help us pay for our part of Josh and Heather's wedding!! But I'd rather have Dad's ring and sweat out the wedding bills, for Josh was to inherit Dad's ring from me in time and he wanted very much to have that memory to keep and pass on to his child some day. That will never happen. I feel sad for Josh.

Aside from that, the entire incident did a lot to wrap my mind around something Jesus has tried to teach us for centuries: Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth.... That passage has never been so relevant. Last night, while awaiting the investigating officer, I opened my Bible to Matthew to find a particular verse in chapter 25, but it opened to chapter 6 and that verse (19) was staring me right in the face. Hmmm. . . . .

Violated!

2006-02-06T20:39:00.001-08:00

Two things became official this evening (Monday) as Janice and I were having dinner at Chipotle's:

1. We are now a part of the crime statistics in Long Beach, California.
2. Our hundred-pound dog, Chipper, is absolutely worthless as a watch dog.

When we pulled into the driveway, I mentioned to Janice that the front door was open. I was the last one to leave the house and I know I locked the door after me. Not only was the front door open, there was no electricity anywhere in the house. Completely dark.

I got a flashlight and and a .357 handgun and started a search. Our bedroom had been ransacked. The burglar (hereafter referred to as "the perp") came through a window in the back bedroom, knocking over my banjo as he / she entered. After a careful search, without touching anything, all that was missing was my laptop, the power charger to it, and a few cups of loose change I kept in my top drawer. The other contents of the top draw were spilled all over the bed and floor.

I am very thankful for many things. One, that no one was injured in the crime. Had we been home, someone would be lying dead or dying in our house. I would hope it would be the perp, but it could easily have been Janice or myself, or both of us. I am thankful nothing of any real value and / or irreplacable was taken ... mainly some of the things from Mom's house. Things of sentimental value. And, of course, I'm glad none of the more expensive items (instruments, Jan's laptop, etc) were taken.

That said, I feel very violated and a bit angry. Don't know how this will affect my sleep tonight, but I'm sure it will be restless, if I get any at all.

Oh, yes ... apparently home burglaries in Long Beach are very low on the crime list as far as response time and priority is concerned. We were told not to touch anything (meaning we can't go to bed or even close and lock the front door) until the officer(s) arrive. So far it's been over an hour and we're a bit frustrated and getting tired.

P.S. As it approaches 10pm, the officer did come by. Very nice young man ... delayed because of a shooting north of us. Gang related ... drug deal gone bad. So now we turn in the report and hope the insurance will give me enough $$ to replace my laptop. We'll see. At least a car didn't drive through my kitchen!!!

P.P.S. As time went on, we discovered several other things missing including jewelry. I had a few pieces of jewely that had belonged to my dad. They are now the possessions of someone who never knew him and wouldn't know or care that he'd taken a part of my life with him. Our high school class rings are gone as well. Oh well .... what can we do? They are only things. I wrote that for my benefit more than your benefit. By the way, anyone out there want a not-so-good watch dog? She's a sweetheart ... just basically worthless!

God's Rag Dolls

2006-02-06T06:54:00.000-08:00

When Josh was a baby, his favorite stuffed toy was an educational Snoopy dog that had a zipper, snap, button, shoe laces, and buckle for the child to learn how to work those items of clothing. It was a good refresher course for me as well! In very short time, Snoopy was not just one of many stuffed animals. Snoopy was a part of our family. If you loved Josh, you loved Snoopy. The two were inseparable.

When Josh took a nap or went to bed, Snoopy was with him. Snoopy ate with us, went on vacations with us, was a regular church-goer. Snoopy joined us for meals and we actually carried on conversations with Snoopy. Okay, maybe we weren't the brightest family, but we loved Snoopy because Josh loved Snoopy.

As you can imagine, over the years Snoopy became rather ragged looking. The body fuzz was rubbed off. The nose was pretty much gone. An eye was missing. The laces and buckles on the shoes were long gone. The colors were fading. At one point, Janice took Snoopy apart and did her best to rebuild him ... sort of unlicensed reconstructive surgery. In time, Snoopy had to "live" in a plastic bag just to protect him from further deterioration. In time, Josh outgrew Snoopy, replacing him with sports and drums and adulthood. Well, for the most part ....

While packing Josh up to move him to Temecula, we came across Snoopy and Josh wanted very much to take his beloved dog with him. (I'd rather he took Chipper, but that's another story.) I used Snoopy in my sermon yesterday morning as an object lesson. What made Snoopy so important to our family ... what made us literally fall in love with a stuffed dog is the love Josh had for Snoopy. Theologians call this "imputed love." It is a love that loves for no logical / rational reason, but a love that in and of itself causes the one that is loved to be of inestimable valuable. It is the love God has for us and was demonstrated when we were most unlovable ... while we were yet sinners.

I told my church family there are two truths about human beings: We are all rag dolls, very much like Snoopy. But we are God's rag dolls! And His love for us not only makes us special, it makes us valuable beyond calculation!

And when we come together in community, each of us bearing so many characteristics that are quite unlovable, we need to learn to see one another through the eyes of God. We need to see others as Josh saw Snoopy! Love beyond reason!

A Loose Leash

2006-02-03T06:22:00.000-08:00

After a good dinner, Jan and I took a walk south on Linden for about a half mile then stopped by Sav-On drugs on the way home to see if some throws (basically really big, very soft towels for women who seem to be cold all the time to throw over them while watching television) were on sale. Deciding to walk further on the north side of the house, we picked up Chipper to let her enjoy a few minutes on the other side of the fence. As always, she was ecstatic!

You need to understand that when I take her out, I tend to give her a loose leash, allowing her to make frequent stops, checking her "pee-mail" along the way. After a few blocks, Janice asked if I wanted her to take the leash. I quickly agreed. Being the school teacher she is, she took a tighter leash and actually made my dog mind, which is something out of character for her (the dog)! Chipper walked with Janice about 25 or 30 feet and suddenly came across Janice and started jumping all over me. She wanted nothing else to do with that tight leash stuff. She wanted "the Rev" back in control so she could do more as she pleased.

We had a good laugh over that as I took back the leash and she settled down into a loose leash again. I'm sure there's some deeper life-lesson to be learned in our walk w/ Chipper, but I'm just too tired to think it through. Enjoy your weekend!

We're Safe!

2006-02-02T06:09:00.000-08:00

I was determined not to get involved in (addicted to?) this season's episodes of 24, which, I realize, is about as un-American as one can be. I failed to convince my wife that she could better spend her time than watching this particular series. So she watches and since there's no one else around and I don't really want to be off by myself, I end up doing something in the den while she watches 24. I glance up occasionally, but mostly just listen to some of the dialogue while playing computer solitare or sniffing around Google.

This season involves canisters. Evil people (terrorists) and canisters are never a good thing for Americans! We need to keep that in mind. Add a dim-witted pansy of a president with a staff member on the bad guy payroll and we're really in trouble! However, CTU (is that what they're called?) is right on top of everything, unlike our real spy machine.

So far this season as I've sat doing other things, I've figured this much out:

A bunch of people got killed the first 10 minutes of the season, but Jack survived.

The president's wife conceals important information in her cleavage, which eventually gets her sent to the looney place for a vacation.

The canisters were to be shipped out of Long Beach in containers disguised as medical supplies. Any reference to Long Beach gets my attention. (And the fact that canisters containing chemicals that could destroy the universe may be disguised as medical supplies is one more reason why I stay away from doctors!)

Just when you think it couldn't get any worse ... it always gets worse.

Not to worry, though, for Jack Bauer can handle this while multi-tasking!

So ... as long as Jack is around, I feel absolutely confident we'll be okay as a nation. If something, God forbid, should happen to Jack, then we may have to rely on divine grace and mercy once again to pull us through.

In the meantime, if network television really wants a winner, they should team up Bauer with Inspector Clouseau! Now that I would watch.

An Old Guitar

2006-02-01T06:33:00.000-08:00

For years, the guitar pictured was in Josh's closet. I'd wanted to throw it away but he wanted to keep it for no other reason than it was his daddy's guitar. My first guitar. I was in 8th grade. Montgomery, Alabama. The guitar is a Harmony ... one of the worst guitars I've ever played and one of the worst sounding guitars ever made. (In retrospect, the sound may have had something to do with the fact we could only afford to change strings about every two years.) But, it was all my parents could afford at the time. I think it was $60 with a case.

That said, I loved that guitar! It was hard to play and I've wrapped tape around my bleeding fingertips many times so I could keep playing it. I'd never played a really nice guitar (my best friend, David, had one just like mine so we had nothing to which we could compare) and had no idea what "action" meant on a stringed instrument. So we played our guitars for hours, even to the point of having a trunk key made to our family cars so we could sneak the guitars to church then conveniently leave worship during the preaching and play our guitars in the parking lot, always returning during the invitation song. That worked great for weeks until the preacher (who happened to be David's father) had an unusually short sermon and we got caught when one of us was called for closing prayer and we were no where to be found. Funny thing about that story, no amount of explaining could ever convince our parents to let us keep our copies of the trunk key! For a long time, Dad made sure the guitar was in the house when we went to church. I guess in the long run it made me a better person.

When I had a chance to play in a band, I drilled holes in the thing and added a modified electric pick-up so I could have an electric sounding guitar. Dad got me a used Gibson all-tube amp that had a great sound in spite of my pathetic sounding guitar. I later put the amp in a pawn shop for money to take Janice on a date and never got it out of hock. I'd give a few hundred dollars to have that amp today! Love can be so blind, but if I had to choose between Janice or the amp, I'd certainly ..... choose Janice! What did you think I'd say????

A few years ago I put new strings on the old Harmony and attempted to tune it, but the tension required was pulling the bridge off the body, so I loosened the strings and put the guitar back in the closet ... until Josh moved out recently. Knowing I couldn't just throw it away, I cleaned the dust off of it (as those who know me would expect me to do) and decided to hang it on the wall of the bedroom formerly known as Josh's where I now have the keyboard, music stand, Vox amp, and a couple of my guitars. It hangs along side a violin my dad bought once and kept in a closet and an old banjolene I found in a dumpster in Florida. It's a great reminder of how far I've come since 8th grade ... not only in my ability to play, but in the quality of instruments I now use. Though I can no more afford what I have than my parents could afford the Harmony, I've come to see the value in a good instrument. I think they may have spent more for me that Christmas, but they had no idea I'd actually learn to play the thing and they were buying my older brother a set of drums (cheap set like the guitar). Parents can be so pragmatic.

The old Harmony hanging on the wall also reminds me that maybe I can still be of use to someone when I get too old to play.

Jim

2006-01-31T06:52:00.000-08:00

Sunday was another one of those amazingly wonderful days at Long Beach. It's difficult for me to put into words (and keep it short enough to print) how much this church family lifts me up on a given weekend.

Last year, the theme of my preaching was "Sanctuary." I used a lot of ideas from John Ortberg's excellent book, Everybody's Normal 'Till You Get to Know Them. We all come with an "as is" tag on us ... usually off the "marked down / slightly damaged" shelf of humanity. The purpose of this focus of preaching was to help us think in terms of being a community that doesn't have it all together and come out of the various stages of denial that make us think we have it all together and be a safe haven for those around us who are searching for sanctuary. That's a tough order for our heritage and culture. We're so programmed to think just the opposite.

Anyway, I preached a sermon on hearing the voice of God back in November and made a comment that there is no program ... no book ... no 12-step program that can tell us how to hear the voice of God. Jim wrote a rather lengthy email and shared with me his journey from alcoholism to sobriety and how the AA Step Program actually did help him hear the voice of God. (Don't you just hate it when proven wrong? Especially the preacher!) I wrote Jim back and asked him to think about and pray about sharing his story with our church family. His first response was one of great hesitation. Then he decided if it would help others, then he'd do it.

Sunday Doyle (our worship leader) selected some of the best songs to set an environment in which Jim could share his story. It was powerful! We were all touched. And Jim was affirmed by so many in our church. I think we came a little closer to what the assembling of the saints should be about on Sunday.

Twenty-One!

2006-01-30T07:02:00.000-08:00

Both of our children were "church babies" in that Josh was born on a Sunday night and Jessica on a Wednesday night. Jessica exactly 21 years ago tonight! No matter how old you get, there is a part of my heart that wants to forever keep you that sweet little blond-headed girl with a lisp. The first year of your life, we wondered if you would ever grow any hair! But life was never any sweeter to this daddy than when I'd play "Beberly Hillbellies" on my banjo and you would sing the lyrics as best as you understood them!

As the old song goes, "Sunrise, sunset ... swiftly fly the years..." I can hardly believe you're now an adult in every respect.

As a baby, you never wanted anything to do with anyone other than brother, mama, and daddy. Everyone wanted to hold you and love on you and you would have none of it. Interestingly (and this indicates what a history we have with Cecil Walker's family), the night you actually allowed Barbara Walker to hold you is still a vivid memory because it was so out of character for our little Jessica. It was a Sunday evening ... a special Sunday evening because one of our very best friends had decided after our church assembly to go back to the building and be baptized. We'd been praying for this for a long time. After Jim's baptism, all of our closer friends came to the house to continue our evening together of food and fun. Barbara and "Thethil" have always been center of your (and Josh's) heart.

You always loved to wear your daddy's shirts, which were always HUGE on you. I remember being in the school office when you were in pre-school or kindergarten and another girl your age was there with her mother. The girl was telling her mother she wanted bigger clothes to wear. The mother, not knowing who I was, answered, "No, you'll look like that Jessica England!" That particular family sort of looked down their noses at everyone else. If your mama had not been on the faculty of that school (and, of course, I had not been a preacher and pretty well known in the small community) that woman might have had a fight on her hands! I'm pretty sure I could have taken her. You can say all you want about me, but don't talk about my wife, my children, or my dog!

Jessica, you've has always been very intelligent. Very spiritual. Very determined. Very friendly. Very social. Very committed to your family, friends, school, and peer group. And very much a pride of my heart. You've taught me so much about love and acceptance of others. You consistently demonstrate character in your life that I only teach about. (You are so much like her mama, which is a good thing!) When you asked to be baptized at the age of 8, I never hesitated nor questioned your decision. You'd had a long relationship with God that I envied. To my knowledge, you've never wavered from your commitment to the Lord and are such an example to others. Your closeness to Josh still amazes me. I don't know what we did to foster such a closeness between sister and older brother (especially with the two of you graduating from rival high schools) but your closeness and love for one another is wonderful medicine for my aging heart!

So, birthday girl, enjoy your new status as being of legal age for things you should never do! (Inside joke) With you and Josh (and now Heather), your mama, and a few guitars, Chipper, and good friends, I could not be blessed more! I love you, sweetheart!!!

[The pictures are from our dinner together on Sunday at the Cheesecake Factory in Pasadena, CA. Top: Jessica. Middle: Josh and Heather. Bottom: Janice and Jessica. There was one of Jessica and me, but Mondays are bad enough without having to face my face!]

Varsity!

2006-01-27T06:29:00.000-08:00

I gave much thought to sharing this and almost backed out, but then I have no dignity left with this crowd! Cecil's blogs about Steven trying out for and (eventually) making the varsity baseball team reminded me of a similar time in my life.

By the way, we've known Steven from the moment of his birth. I was with Barb and Cec and Jean (Cecil's sweet mom) when we all went over to Orlando for his birth and his homecoming with the Walkers. My wife and children remained behind to decorate the Walker's house and make dinner for us all. So we truly have a "rejoice when you rejoice, weep when you weep" relationship that goes back two decades.

I never doubted Steven would make the team. He could dribble a basketball (a much needed skill for varsity baseball) almost before he could walk and has always had an amazing eye-hand coordination. I've never seen a kid throw and catch a ball at such a young age as did Steven.

But making varsity is not all it's made out to be. Case in point: Your's truly. I was attending Alabama Christian High School in Montgomery (my final year as I was invited to move my student-ship to another school, but that's another blog) in 9th grade when I made the high school varsity basketball team. A ninth grader on varsity basketball ... I was impressed! So much so that I would wear my uniform warm-up jacket as a regular jacket just so people would know they were in the presence of somebody! I know you're getting goose bumps just reading this. It was so cool to have accomplished so much in such a short lifetime.

We were going to be "the team" that year. The season began with a tournament among Bible schools in Alabama and was held that year in Athens. I don't remember all the participant schools, but Mars Hill (Florence, AL) was always the tournament champ. Everyone else played for the glory of second place. Fate dealt us an evil hand that year as we drew Mars Hill for the opening game of the tournament. After a 200-mile drive to Athens, we came out on the floor ready to make history. We were going to finally be the team that unseated the perennial champion. (I would later move my studentship to Mars Hill, meet my future wife and graduate ... somewhat with honors. See what Alabama Christian missed by their invitation for me to go elsewhere ... an honor student!) When the final buzzer sounded the score was 100 - 30. The first of many, many defeats for us that year. I sat the bench that game but I doubt my participation would have made much difference.

Then came my first opportunity to play in an actual game (rather than team scrimmages). I was point guard. Missed shot ... we got the reboud. Pass to wingman. I was far down court awaiting a pass for my easy lay-up. We'd practiced this dozens of times a day. As far as I was concerned this was a walk in the park, even if there were hundreds of eyes watching me. I was completely alone on my end of the court when I received the pass ... took a couple of dribbles ... and threw the ball over the backboard and out of bounds! Apparently hundreds of eyes watching makes a huge difference to a 14-year-old varsity basketball player playing in his first actual game.

For some reason our coach called for a time out and I was invited to join him on the bench ... for the rest of the game. We won three games that year, if you count the post-season annual Varsity - Faculty game. I think they may have let us win for some morale reason.

I played one year at Mars Hill and hung up the old Converse All-Star tennis shoes. I always found it interesting, though, how proud we were to wear our varsity letter jackets as freshmen in college only to conveniently leave them at home first opportunity as no one in college is impressed with a high school varsity letter jacket!

I'm sure Steven will have a much better first year as a varsity player than his uncle Greg.

Leadership

2006-01-26T06:18:00.000-08:00

Wednesday afternoon, I was browsing through some church leadership magazine that came in the mail and stopped to read an article by one of the foremost Christian financial wizards. A sure-fire method for getting out of debt. Here it is in two steps (and I kid you not): Step One - Pay off your debts. Step Two - Accumulate wealth. I'm in the wrong profession!

For several years, I took Leadership magazine and read it cover to cover. Well, I looked at all the cartoons cover to cover and read some of the articles.

When I moved to Long Beach, this church staff was big into John Maxwell's leadership material, with shelves of audio cassettes and volumes of printed material. We had regular meetings with our staff, elders and deacons for leadership training. Being the new Minister of the Word, the teaching often fell to me. We'd go down to San Diego to "sit at the feet of rabbi John." We came away with tons of ideas and pearls of wisdom. We implemented some of it as best we could. Never saw much result from it other than we looked like leadership material.

I've been to week-long seminars that taught me step-by-step how to take three people in a living room and transform them into a mega church of thousands. I've been to other seminars that taught me how to transform everyone in our church into dynamic personal evangelists.

Yet other seminars to just keep me focused and energized. Still others to bring life and pizzaz (I find I use that word often these days ... must be a good word.) to our worship. I've been on panels for church leadership discussions. Mountain prayer retreats. Small group sessions for leadership.

I read over the books others are reading (far beyond just this blog family) and invariably leadership books top the list with high recommendations. With all our personal investment in the books and seminars, I don't see a lot happening in our faith heritage. Certainly no ratio between reading / implementation / and change indicating it's all working for us!

Seminars. Workshops. Conferences. Forums. Lectureships. What have I learned? Lots and lots of ways other people have been blessed in their ministries by the Lord. A few ways others have made their ministries appear to be blessed by God ... enough so to pull together a seminar and get saps such as myself to pay money to hear their stories.

The main thing I've learned is to keep the main thing the main thing. Which usually means when I try to mimmick someone else's success, the result is basically frustration. When we try to import other's "programs" we never get the same results. We hardly get results at all.

I've decided if I keep the main thing the main thing, then I'll be God's servant where I am and he'll bless that. And if enough of us do this, the kingdom is enriched and enlarged. I have no doubt there are wonderfully gifted men and women among us who are, indeed, God's leaders in their churches. And when God gifts a leader, it's evident. For the rest of us, my leadership model is rather simple: Stay faithful and focused.

Perception

2006-01-25T06:18:00.000-08:00

For two years I taught a couple of psychology classes at Alabama Christian College's (now Faulkner University) north Alabama extension campus. My favorite chapter in the intro course was that on perception. I've found optical illusions fascinating. During my years as a hyno-therapist, I was equally fascinated by our ability to either misinterpret what we saw, or just the distortion of what we thought was reality. I've hynotized people for memory recall and found huge differences in what they thought consciously and what they'd stored subconsciously. It's all about how we perceive the world around us. Unfortunately, what we see in life, including the judgments we make about others, are often wrong because we see what we are conditioned to see. For example ....

To some, I am perceived as a liberal. Hard to believe, isn't it? Me, a liberal? Say it ain't so! For that matter, exactly what is a liberal? Theologically, liberals deny the deity of Christ or even the existence of God. On a more practical level, we usually define a liberal as someone who doesn't believe all that I believe to be true. For the record, on the core issues of our faith I am as conservative as they come. Jesus is the only Son of God. Born of a virgin. Died, was buried, and resurrected. Ascended to the Father and returning some day. I don't waver on that at all. That God exists and is the only living God ... no question! Miracles? No questions.

The Word? Infallible. Inspired. Able to cut right through the human heart. Profitable for every aspect of our lives. Historically accurate. Living and active. Indwells our hearts through the ministry of the Holy Spirit.

On the "second tier" issues, I'm equally conservative. Things such as baptism as an act of obedience and an integral aspect of our faith response to God's grace ... I'm right there. The act of baptism doesn't save as we're saved by the blood of Jesus. But I don't believe baptism to be an optional, take-it-or-leave it matter. To do that, we have to remove some words regarding baptism from the mouth of Jesus and I'm not prepared to do that on any subject. So I teach it, practice it, promote it. I believe communion on a regular basis to be one of those sacraments that takes us right back to the cross of Christ (as does baptism).

But when it comes to some of the more peripheral issues such as role of women in the assemly, or the use of instrumental music in our praise and worship, or the acceptance of people outside my own faith heritage as brothers and sisters in the Lord, then I guess I'm a liberal. But those who really know my heart, know it has nothing to do with liberal / conservative and everything to do with the liberty we have in Christ and my rejection of some of our traditions and orthodoxy that I simply do not find in Scripture.

Another aspect of perception is how others actually see us. I have a perception of Greg England that is reflected in my memory and, occasionally in a mirror ... but whenever I see a recent photograph of myself, it blows my perception out of the mirror. I don't see multiple chins in the mirror. Or the bags under my eyes. Or the crow's feet. Or the thinning hair. Or the extra pounds around the waist. I see myself at about the same weight as when I married. Interesting what the human eye sees.

One of the teens in our church drew a picture of me one Sunday as I was preaching. I wonder if he really sees me like this? I hope not. After all, he is a rather talented young man and I know he can draw better than this. Maybe he needs glasses? Maybe he has a future as one of those caricature artists at an amusement park? Anyway, it humored me. And sort of shocked me!

Bottom line: How does God perceive me? By grace, he sees me through the sacrificial blood of Jesus, my Savior. If only I could see others through the same spiritual lenses. If only.... There would be no labels other than a spiritual sibling. A brother, a sister in Christ. Another sinner saved by grace.

Planning My Obituary

2006-01-23T20:07:00.000-08:00

Occasionally while sniffing around in Google for something legit, I come across sites that just raise my curiosity. Last week I came across a couple regarding "death clocks." One of them was a running world clock of how many people just died of what cause ... pretty interesting, very sobering. I was there 17 seconds and 34 people somewhere in the world died during my 17 seconds. I figure the best I could do for the world was stay out of that site!

Others "predict" your date of death based on the input you provide. Seems just since last week my life has been extended 21 years! But I'm not so sure I want to live to be 97!

Based on several visits to two different sites, I should expect to be around another 12,306 days. Okay, make that 12,305 by the time you read this. Either way, I figure I've got to work until the end of those days to pay off the college loans! Not to mention the possible purchase of additional guitars.

One prediction has me cashing in on Dec.29, 2029. Later, the same site updated my demise to March 5, 2050. Another site gave me until October 4, 2039. What to do with all this information?

If you want to join the fun, you can click below on either site ... have it calculate your demise ... and let me know. Maybe we can all plan a party before our dates come up!

DeathClock gave me the longer life but bases much of its calculation on body mass index ... a fancy way of telling us we're all not just fat, but actually OBESE! Go ahead, check it out.

FindYourFate was a bit more specific as far as input provided.

On earth as it is in heaven

2006-01-23T06:31:00.000-08:00

Jesus taught his disciples how to pray (Mt.6:9 - 15), and a part of that model prayer or disciple's prayer are the words, "thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." Of course, those words are preceded by "Thy kingdom come..." which, we were taught, made the prayer irrelevant for modern Christians. After all, with the establishment of the church on Pentecost of Acts 2, the kingdom of God had come, so why continue to pray that it come? Such was our reasoning, faulty as it was.

What Jesus taught is that whenever the will of God is done on earth as it is in heaven, there the kingdom exists. That being true, I am puzzled over the words of Revelation 15:2-3 where we see the redeemed (who had been victorious over the beast) holding harps of or from God and singing the song of Moses and the song of the Lamb. Whether or not God actually handed them harps is not clear in the Greek, but we do assume they were to be played during the singing by the redeemed. After all, that is the purpose of holding harps, is it not? They serve no other purpose in the scene ... regardless of how one interprets John's Revelation.

So-o-o-o-o-o-o ... if it is the will of God for the redeemed to hold (and we assume to play) harps of or from God while singing the song of Moses and the Lamb, how could it be against the will of God for the same act to done on earth? If it is God's will in heaven and we do the same here, wouldn't that be his will "on earth as it is in heaven?" And yet our religious heritage continues to hold on to an opinion that has become the "settled law" and given doctrinal status ... that the use of instrumental music in worship is a sin. That just doesn't make sense to me.

Just one of many things about which I wonder. Whaddayouthink?

The Smell of God

2006-01-20T06:30:00.000-08:00

Michael came by the house Thursday evening and knocked on the door just as I sat down to complete a movie I'd rented earlier. He needed some help to pay for a motel room for the night. You have no idea how many people ask me for help financially and were I to help them all, just a little, I would be unable to pay my own bills. Our church is generous and doesn't mind helping, but it's not my place to make those decisions and we have a policy not to hand out cash.

So ... I don't have the money to help him. He says I can write a check to the motel. I don't think so. Then a blog from that Randy fellow kicked in ... something about ministry to those in need. Though I didn't have the money on me to pay the balance of his motel bill, I did have some rolled coins in the office. I usually put them back until I need a little extra cash for a trip to Guitar Center or some CD store, but I couldn't get past that Randy fellow's blog yesterday. I told Michael to meet me at the office door. I got enough rolled coins to pay his motel bill and give him money for dinner. And I felt very good about it! Thanks, Randy fellow! A timely blog indeed and a gentle reminder of what it means to be Christ to others.

Now for the blog I wrote prior to Michael's visit. . .

Click here and you'll be taken to another web site containing a wonderful story that will just make you feel good! I checked it out @ truthorfiction.com and it's at least based on the family's story. Whether or not you believe it is up to you. Personally, I want to believe it ... if for no other reason than we had a somewhat similar experience with our son's premature birth and a dreary prediction of his chances of living a normal life.

Enjoy your weekend and don't be surprised if you encounter God as you've never done before! All you have to do is look around at his creation and you'll see him to be the God of pizzaz!

Church Programs

2006-01-19T06:49:00.000-08:00

I'm going to go on the record (for whatever this blog is worth as "the record") and answer the question: "Are church programs a good thing?"

My answer: "No." Make that an emphatic "NO!"

Those of you who want to disfellowship me may do so at this time.

Several years ago, with a change in eldership (a very positive transition, by the way) our church pretty much shut down all existing "programs." Wasn't easy, but we believed (and still do) it was the right thing to do.

Why? We came to the conclusion that programs are not very healthy for churches and they stand in the way of the ministry of the Holy Spirit. When Jesus ascended back to the Father, he told us to "go ... make disciples ... baptize them ... and teach them to obey." That last part is the process of equipping people to put their faith in action and involves developing skills, attitudes and actions consistent with the life of Christ. In reality, it is the process of allowing Christ in us to live through us (basically the whole point of Colossians). If Christ is, indeed, sufficient for the development of our faith. If Christ is committed to finishing the work he began in us. If Christ is really "my all in all" as we sing. Why do we substitute Christ with programs, hoping they will produce in us what only Christ can produce in us? Namely, the attitude of Christ!

Consider a statement from a Sunday School (rats! that's a program, isn't it?) class taught by one of our elders:

Our temptation is to believe that we must possess impressive gifts or abilities. Without something impressive or flashy to rely on, what kind of impact can we hope to make in the lives of others? But by dealing with the truth about ourselves, namely that we are flawed and sinful people, [we come to realize] that we in and of ourselves have nothing to offer anyone. But we have found Christ, and that changes everything. The one genuine gift we have to offer, we possess in abundance. The greatest need of the world is one we are able to meet. We can say, "I may not have impressive academic or religious credentials, polished answers, an unblemished background, a perfect marriage, or even a dramatic personal testimony, but I have Jesus. and more than anything in the world I would love to share that gift with you."

That's good stuff, I don't care who you are!!

When I look back over almost 30 years of ministry in the churches of Christ (I've only served four churches in those years. One was a volunteer, non-paid youth minister. The other was a part-time ministry. Then 8 years in Florida and 13 here in Long Beach), I began to realize that church programs never really had any lasting effect on people and failed to produce the desired effects. Basically, the church remained about the same. Some people came and went, but for the most part, it was the core group that remained and the same core people that did most of the work. Every once in a while someone else emerged as a part of the core. More often that was not the result. How many people in your church are basically the same after all these years? They attend and occasionally fuss, but offer very little to the body? Those who study us say the percentage of those who actually work and those who just attend have not changed over the years. It's still about 20% of the people doing 80% of the work. The rest, as Cecil would tell us, are parking on someone else's nickle!

With all our programs, the churches of Christ have failed to produce any positive growth (statistically) in what ... 30 years or more? Oh, we get some people fired up for a while, but they seldom stay fired up unless we keep stoking the program. They seldom seem to actually grow and mature into the fullness of Christ through our programs. They seldom become excited simply about being in Christ and motivated by His love and Spirit through our programs.

We're very much like the school principal in a nearby city out here who was discussing the problem with her staff that their students just were not learning to read. This floored her because (in her words), "we have an excellent reading program! Other schools have copied our program." Great program! One small problem: The students aren't learning to read. But that's our program and, dog gone it, we're sticking with it! Looks great on paper ... even if it doesn't work.

So we still have our ministry fairs and we still try to hype the programs and attempt to get as many people involved as we can so we can at least look like we're accomplishing something. All the while, people come and go. And we keep doing the same things hoping for different results if we just try harder. Isn't that the definition of insanity?

Here's a truth that may shock you: Jesus didn't use programs! As our elder said in Sunday School, "Programs are our best guess, try-your-luck, hope-it-works-but-it-probably-won't attempts to move a large group of people into discipleship."

Jesus' "method" was relational. Caring enough to be aware of a need and then meeting the need through sacrificial servant-hearted relationship. My guess is you are a believer today through relationship rather than some church program. And I dare guess your growth has been more a product of your relationship to Christ than it has been the result of church programs. Mine has been in spite of church programs.

Maybe that's why we love programs ... they are so much easier than sustained relationships that can drain us emotionally, physically and spiritually. Maybe we love programs because they absolve us of personal responsibility and accountability.

The New Testament document we call The Acts of the Apostles has less to do with the acts of the apostles (only three of them are even highlighted in the book) and more to do with the actions of the Holy Spirit in the lives of people willing to submit to his indwelling leadership. And what happens in Acts? Through the ministry of the Holy Spirit, the world was "turned upside down by the message of the gospel" and churches exploded in growth! People were willing to give up everything for the sake of Christ ... even life itself. In my opinion, we've substituted our programs for the work of the Holy Spirit and the results have been all but pathetic. Am I wrong? If so, where is the reproduction of the growth of the early church in our generation?

And look at places in the world where the kingdom is actually growing ... China. India. Africa. Places with no programs (and few preachers) but a strong reliance upon the Holy Spirit and a commitment to the Word. For the most part, they don't even have a church as we know it. They meet in houses, in secret, and in faith! And when they meet, they do so to praise God and encourage one another by meeting needs.

One of the best metaphors of the church is that of family, so let me ask you: How many programs do you have working in your home so that you can function as a family? My guess is NONE. A functional family is that way because of unconditional love, selfless and sacrificial service to one another, a forgiving spirit, and a consistent attention to meeting needs with no ulterior motives. We simply do what it takes to make it work. Hmmmm ... I wonder if that just might work in a church family?

We're trying it at Long Beach. It's not been an easy process and it's taking a lot of time, but we're committed to becoming far more relational at the expense of our programs. Why not? The programs never produced much.

Okay, the response line is open: Give me your best shot ... but remember that I love you!

Willie the Wimp

2006-01-18T08:24:00.000-08:00

Today's post is late but I simply could not get Blogger to work with me last night. Anyone else ever have that problem w/ Blogger?

I'm working on the final sermon in a series (bleeding over from last year) on the nearness of God. This final sermon has to do with heaven, in a sense, but more with the fact that God invaded our space so we could have just a bit more than a glimpse of heaven, and that when we do his will on earth, heaven once again invades earth. I'll let you know how it goes in terms of numbers of sleepers verses listeners verses listeners with obvious interest verses our worship leader staying awake!

Anywho, I was reading (again) through some of Yancey's book, Rumors of Another World, and came across an interesting story of a two-bit Chicago ganster and rip-off artist (no, it wasn't Jesse Jackson but that would have been a good guess) by the name of Willie Stokes, Jr. Son of Flukey Stokes. The two gained a very bad reputation on the southside of Chicago -- beating people up, selling drugs, becoming very rich. Junior was known in the neighborhood as "Willie the Wimp" and was somewhat immortalized by the late, great Stevie Ray Vaughan in his song, "Willie the Wimp."

When Willie was murdered in 1984, his father gave him a lavish funeral followed by an equally lavish party. Willie was buried in a casket sporting a grill, tires, steering wheel, front and rear lights (that were flashing), dashboard, and trunk resembling a Cadillac Seville. Willie was propped up with his hands on the steering wheel. Fingers covered with rings and five $100-bills rolled like cigarettes stuck between his fingers.

Flannery O'Connor wrote a short story with the title, "You Can't Be Any Poorer Than Dead." With all the flash and glitz of Willie's funeral and death party that followed, I'm sure at some point the family must have realized that Willie couldn't be any poorer than dead!

Interestingly, knowing that truth we tend to continue a lifetime pursuit of trying to accumulate more. More money. More possessions. More guitars. When all along, Scripture tells us the true value of life is found in pursuing "God's will on earth as it is in heaven." A lesson I'm still trying to learn.

If nothing else, this blog is worth a sermon illustration!

Things I've Learned

2006-01-17T06:16:00.000-08:00

It's been a whirlwind of a weekend for this old man and his bride. We spent much of Friday evening trying to pick up some of the last odd and ends to help Josh in his move to independence. Saturday we were up early and spent the day in Temecula, arriving back home about 14 hours later. Sunday was a long day in that we had a teacher appreciation luncheon immediately after our assembly. It was a wonderful day, but long and tiring. I had to take down all the audio / video equipment after the event. After a brief snoozer, we were off again mainly just to avoid cleaning up Josh's room. After dinner at Chipotle's, we finally worked in there until about midnight. But through it all, I learned that I'm not too old to learn new things.

For instance:

I don't handle both of my children being gone as well as I thought I would. And in the words of F. Gump, "that's all I have to say about that."

I learned that even though I know a lot about sound equipment, Sony can trip me up with one of their newer surround sound systems ... but age and experience will eventually win out.

I learned that when Janice sees a table at a thrift store that she really wants, it's best for me to just go to the car and let her negotiate a price, for we will be taking it home! Even if we have to go pick up the church van and return later to get it. While sniffing around one of her many favorite thrift stores last Friday evening, she found an oak round coffee table that she liked. Then she noticed it had a metal handle underneath the top ... this table has a hydrolic system that allows the top to raise and lower so it can be used as a coffee table or a card / eating table! Doesn't matter that we have no place to put it, we are now the proud owners of this "cute" and unique table. She did get it for about $40 under the original price.

I learned that no matter how hungry Chipper may be at 9:30pm ... if we've been gone all day she is more interested in playing than eating!

I learned that our church doesn't quite know what to do when the sermon is less than 20 minutes ... but they are willing to learn if I'll just cooperate on a weekly basis.

I learned that I've been missing a wonderful Sunday School class taught by my good friend, Steve! It was good to be a student again rather than a teacher / co-teacher.

I've learned that when I don't have much else to blog about, I resort to blogs such as this! And that some of you will actually read it.

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