Sunday, April 1, 2012

If I Decided to Further My Education

For a little while, I toyed with going back to school and getting my Doctorate of Ministry.  I even made inquiries at the Presbyterian Seminary in Austin.  I never quite took the plunge.

And now, I've decided if I do decide to further my education, it will not be in the theological realm. 

When I moved out to Cat Spring, I was blessed to meet someone who was/is well versed in science.  He and I have had numerous conversations about faith, theology, science, and reason in the past seven and a half  years.  What he had to teach me blew my ever-loving mind--in a very good way.

In our conversations, I was exposed to the wonderful reality of quantum mechanics.  The further I have delved into this arena of physics, the more my faith has grown.  It has been quite a ride.

I very much wish I could have wrapped my head around these concepts when I was younger.  I'm not saying that I would have entered into a different calling.  I am almost 100% certain I am called to be a Lutheran pastor and will continued to be called to live out this vocation.  Yet, I am inextricably drawn to the quantum reality.  I am inextricably drawn to how the quantum world affects our understanding of reality.  I am inextricably drawn to how the quantum world and the world of faith relate.


The book that I am currently writing relates to quantum theory and the reality of time.  I wish I were more knowledgeable of the subject, but fortunately for me, my church member is helping me along with that part.

I do know, that given the opportunity, I would further my education so that I wouldn't need such assistance.  Given the opportunity, I would pursue a BS in physics and probably follow it up with an MS as well.  A PhD would probably be beyond my grasp, but who would know?  There is a whole realm of probabilities.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Thelogically Correct Mega-Millions Numbers

1 -- For the one God

3 -- For the Trinity and the number of days until Jesus' resurrection

10 -- For the 10 Commandments and 10 Plagues

12 -- For the 12 Disciples

40 -- For the Days Jesus fasted in the desert.

Mega Ball -- 7 -- For 7 Days of Creation and the 7 Seals in the book of Revelation

Good luck to you, and  if these numbers prove true, remember to give 10% to your congregation and 1% to  your advisor.  ;-)

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Down and Dirty

Last night after our Lenten service, we had a little accident at the church.

Oh, it was quite minor.  You see, during the construction of the fellowship hall, those who laid the pipe put a cutoff valve right next to the driveway beside the building.  More than once, someone has accidentally driven over the valve cover and busted the pipe.  It happened again last night.

Ordinarily, this wouldn't be much of an issue.  We'd just cut the water off and wait until morning to fix things.  However, there is one problem: the church and the parsonage come off the same water source.  Shutting the water off for one shuts it off for the other.  Now, I am positive my family and I could make it without water for a night, but it wouldn't exactly be the easiest thing in the world.   Fortunately, my congregation members understand that.

We jumped into action quickly...beginning with me.  Since the parsonage is right next door, I grabbed my sharpshooter (it's a shovel for those of you who might not know) and started digging down to the broken pipe.  Within a matter of moments, I had dug down to the leak.  At this point, I didn't look much like the "saintly, scholarly" pastor.

I had mud up to my elbows.

I had mud covering my jeans.

My boots were wet and muddy.

And I loved it!

I miss doing things where I get dirty and grimy.  Growing up, I spent numerous hours on my grandfather's farm.  Whether it was chopping cotton, getting Johnson grass out of the grain, or working on farm implements, by the time I was done, I was dusty, grimy, dirty, with sweat and dirt stains on my clothes and stinking to high heaven.  And yet, despite all this, I could look at what I had done and have a sense of accomplishment.  There was visible evidence that I had done at least something.

I know there are some who would trade places with me in a heart-beat.  They'd gladly give up their jobs to be able to sit at a desk and type and read or drive to visit people in their homes.  They'd love not having to break a sweat all day long.  I understand such sentiments.  I truly am blessed to be in such a position.

However, there is something holy about digging around in the dirt.  There is something holy about using your muscles to accomplish tasks.  There is something holy about seeing the results of your labor--something I don't always get a chance to see.  There is something holy about getting down and dirty.

Within an hour, we had everything fixed.  Several congregation members pitched in with pipe and couplings.  Water was restored to all places.  Soon, I was showered and clean.  I wonder how long it will be until the next time church work will require me to get dirt under my fingernails once again?

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

A Christian Response to the Trayvon Martin Shooting

Yesterday, I waded into the Trayvon Martin case and offered a call for calm and due process.  Today, I offer a Christian response to the situation.  Mind you, I cannot for certain say that it is THE Christian response, but it is the one I offer after thought and prayer on the subject.  It might take a little while to read through the argument, but I believe it will be worth your time.

Most of the commentary from my own denomination and fellow clergy have focused on the issue of justice.  The presiding bishop of the ELCA even took this path.  It's not surprising given my own denomination's linking of the Christian faith to justice.  In fact, I would argue that the majority of clergy in the ELCA see Christianity as synonymous with justice. 

However, what if the assumption is wrong?  What if Christianity is not about justice and is instead about reconciliation and redemption?

Don't get me wrong.  Justice is a strong part of the Christian faith.  In fact, reading through the Old Testament shows just how important justice is to God:

1.  Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden and forbidden to eat from the Tree of Life because it was God's justice for their sin.

2.  God destroyed the world and all that was in it by the great flood because of the injustice of humankind--saving only Noah and his family and enough animals to repopulate the earth.

3.  God delivered justice upon the Egyptians for enslaving the Hebrews decimating their power through the 10 plagues and then destroying their army in the Red Sea.

4. God swallowed up a portion of the people of Israel for turning away from Him and causing rebellion on the way to the Promised Land.

5. As the people were becoming established in the Promised Land, they turned from God numerous times.  God exacted justice by allowing foreign tribes to conquer the people of Israel.  When the people repented, God sent Judges to free them.

6. When the Kingdom of Israel was established, God sent numerous prophets to call for justice; and when their calls fell on deaf ears, God punished the people by allowing the Assyrians and Babylonians to conquer them.

As one reads through the Old Testament, a clear pattern is established of God calling His people to account and doling out justice when they fail to measure up to following His law.  God could have chosen to continue in this unhealthy pattern, but as they say, "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."

For the God-honest truth is that we as humans will not change.  We continually rebel against God.  We continue to commit injustice.  We continue to sin.  A wise man once wrote, "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God..."  We deserve God's punishment for this.  We deserve God's justice.

And justice for sin is not pretty.  "For the wages of sin is death."  Such is what we deserve.  Such is God's justice.

Yet, God chose to act differently.  God chose to take a different path.  God chose the path of reconciliation and redemption.  God sent Christ who would die in our stead--thus satisfying God's justice, and offering God's mercy--reconciliation between humankind and God.  This reconciliation empowers us then to respond in like manner--seeking reconciliation between each other.  God's reconciliation also comes with the promise of redemption--a new relationship between God and humankind; a relationship founded in forgiveness and grace.

So, we must now ask ourselves how such reconciliation and redemption can apply in the Trayvon Martin shooting?  How may such a path be walked which satisfies justice yet focuses upon reconciliation and redemption?  Is there anyone willing to imitate Jesus in what He did for us?

As I reflected upon that final question, I began to ask myself what kind of courage it would take to go to Florida and offer myself up to arrest in George Zimmerman's stead.  I wondered what kind of courage it would take to tell the communities affected by this tragedy (both in the taking of Trayvon's life and the ensuing manufactured racial crisis), "I will sit in jail and await trial in Zimmerman's stead.  Someone will be arrested (satisfying justice) and we can now await the evidence coming forth without all the controversy (showing mercy)."

Sadly, I'm not sure I have the courage to do such a thing.  Plus, I live in Texas, and we're embarking upon Holy Week.  Ah, but could you imagine the power it would show if Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson would do such a thing?  Could you imagine the head scratching that would go on if one of the ELCA's bishops (or any other denomination's bishops or leaders) would do such a thing?  Could you imagine the completely counter-cultural stand it would have in this issue?  Could you imagine such a thing offering a pathway to reconciliation and redemption? 

I personally can.

And what a breath of fresh air it would provide to the circus and heightened anxiety produced in our culture today.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Wading In on the Trayvon Martin Case

Six years ago, the country was met with a firestorm.

Three players of the Duke lacrosse team were accused by a black student at North Carolina Central University who worked as as stripper and escort.  She accused them of raping her repeatedly at a party.

All kinds of hell broke loose.  People hit the television screens and the talk radio waves condemning the players who had exercised white privilege and power to abuse this stripper.  They were guilty of a hate crime.  People were demanding that Duke University dole out punishment upon the players and team for this heinous act.

As public pressure mounted by the media increased, the university took action.  At first, the team was suspended for two games.  Then the coach was forced to resign.  Finally, the president of the university canceled the rest of the season for the team.

Before too long, the facts of the case started coming out.  Inconsistencies in the report filed by the woman surfaced.  Further investigation showed, she blatantly lied.  There was no rape.  The accusations were false.

But the damage had already been done by an overzealous media which (in my opinion) purposely tried to whip communities into a frenzy by its selective reporting of the facts.  Unfortunately, the lives of innocent people were damaged by this rush to judgment.

Fast forward to this year.  Tragedy hits in Sanford, Florida.

A young, unarmed black teenager--Trayvon Martin--is killed by a neighborhood watch captain--George Zimmerman--who at first is called white.  The police do not even arrest Zimmerman.

The media grabs hold of the story, selectively doles out information, and once again whips people into a mad frenzy. 

It's a hate crime.

It's an injustice.

Trayvon must be vindicated.

Marches ensue.  Al Sharpton and Jessie Jackson rush in.  Even some of my fellow clergy jump on the bandwagon and wear hoodies to church to be in solidarity with those demanding justice.

All this takes place before the facts of the case are even laid out. 

Nothing has gone before the grand jury. 

Little evidence has been produced.

To begin with, none in the media investigated Zimmerman's claim of self-defense.  Only recently did police reports (which were leaked) detail Zimmerman's side of the story.  Sure, he's telling his account of the events, but there is no disputing the officers who detailed the bloody nose he had, the lacerations on the back of his head, and the grass stains on the back of his shirt which corroborated his story of being beaten by Trayvon.

Kind of shed a different light on things.

But, the rush to judgment is taking place once again.  Once again, lives are ruined by a news media which throws selective chum into the water to make the sharks go into a feeding frenzy.  And they don't give a darn about who gets hurt in the process.

Justice will be served.  It will happen when all the facts are brought forward--the witnesses consulted--and characters assessed.  It will happen if Zimmerman is indicted by a Grand Jury who has the facts--or if he is vindicated.  Let the process work.  Stop jumping on the emotional rollercoaster.  That has happened before to the detriment of justice. 

Don't let that happen again.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sermon Delivered March 25, 2012: He Will Draw All Unto Him

In 1984, my grandparents moved to the retirement community of Bella Vista, Arkansas. I have traveled there many times in the past 28 years to visit, and I’ve been privileged to do quite a bit of sight-seeing in the surrounding areas. About an hour or so drive from my grandparents’ house is the town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. It’s a quaint little tourist community with quite a few artisan shops. It has a unique Ozark’s flair and flaunts the hillbilly way. But such things are not the only reason folks flock to Eureka Springs. Being right smack dab in the middle of the Bible Belt, more than a few Christians travel to this destination because it is home of the Great Passion Play.

I remember clearly the first time my family traveled to Eureka Springs to see the play. We spent the entire day there taking in the sights and sounds of all the site had to offer including walking to see the Christ of the Ozarks statue. This statue stands seven stories tall and weighs over 2 million pounds! It’s an impressive sight set on a picturesque mountainside. I remember my dad taking what seemed like hundreds of pictures of the statue, and I also remember the inscription carved into the stone at the bottom. It was from our gospel lesson today from the 12th chapter of the book of John verse 32. Jesus says, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself."

It was a rather appropriate comment regarding this statue since thousands of people per year come to see it. They are drawn not necessarily by the statue itself but by the one the statue represents. They are drawn to Jesus.

But as many people come to see this statue, I cannot help but wonder how many of the people who come to view this statue are non-Christians. I mean, in our gospel lesson, Jesus was very clear about who He would draw unto Himself. He said, "I will draw all people to myself." He did not say, "I will draw all believers to myself," as if they were the only ones that counted. Jesus’ heart and desire is to draw all people to himself. Period.

Now, we could stop right here and say, "Well, Jesus, you’re not exactly doing a very good job. Not that I want to question the Son of the Almighty God who has been with God from eternity, but Jesus take a look around the world. The earth’s population is estimated to be around 7 billion people. Just over 2 billion of those people are Christian. Now, that’s a lot of people who believe in you, but that’s only 2 out of every 7 people. You can’t even gather ½ of the earth’s population unto yourself. What’s going on, Jesus? Are you somehow slipping?"

That question might seem a little blasphemous to our ears, but I think it’s a legitimate question to ask. Why aren’t more people being drawn to Jesus? Why does only less than half of the world’s population consider themselves followers of Christ? Why, in our country does the number of non-believers increase and the number of Christ’s followers decrease? Jesus wants to draw all people to Himself, but that’s obviously not happening. So, what’s the problem?

As I think about these questions, and I picture myself going up to Jesus Himself and asking them, I can almost see Him smirk and smile at me. I can almost picture Him putting His arm around me and say, "Do you remember the last thing I told my followers before I ascended into heaven?"

At this, I respond, "Well, sure. You said, ‘Go and make disciples of all nations baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit and teaching them to believe everything you commanded. And you said you would be with them always until the end of the age."

Jesus, beaming, says, "Good job. Your Bible memorization skills are admirable, and you are right about my command. Now, think deeply about what my command has to do with drawing all people unto myself. Is there a connection?"

Well, is there? Is there a connection between Jesus’ desire to draw all people unto himself and His final command to make disciples of all nations and teaching them to obey everything He commanded us?
Simply put: yes, there is–a very strong one.

For you see, my brothers and sisters in Christ, Jesus’ desire and His command walk hand in hand. Jesus’ desire and His call to all Christians are intended to work together. Jesus seeks to work through you and I as we engage the world to make disciples and draw all people toward Him. Simply put, Jesus gave the Church the responsibility of reaching out and drawing all people to Him. So, the question gets turned away from Jesus and back toward you and I. The question becomes not: how are you drawing all people toward you, Jesus? But instead: How is the Church working to draw all people toward Jesus? That’s a very different and very difficult question given the circumstances in this world in which we live.

For now, we must address ourselves. Now we must address our congregations. Now we must address how we interact with the world and with our neighbors. We must address our own hearts and minds and attitudes toward those who are and who are not members of our congregations. We must dig down deep within ourselves and see if we are seeking to follow Christ’s command by first learning what He commands and then teaching it to others. How are we being disciples, being drawn to Jesus so that we may in turn then work toward drawing others toward our Lord and Savior?

I am reminded of a sermon illustration I have used numerous times, but as with all good stories, it bears repeating often enough. And if one were to ask me why I keep repeating it, I will respond in the same manner the old preacher once responded to one of his congregation members when he was asked why he kept repeating the same sermons over and over and over again. The old preacher said, "Well, once y’all start living them sermons, I’ll stop preaching them."

Onto the illustration: Tony Campolo tells the story of a reformed drunk, Joe, who was marvelously converted at a Bowery mission. Joe had been an incorrigible wino, and no one who met him ever expected him to be anything other than a homeless drunk. So the transformation that occurred after his conversion stunned everyone who knew him. Filled with the Holy Spirit, Joe became the most caring person that anyone associated with the mission had ever known. He spent his days and nights at the mission serving both the homeless and the drunk, as well as the Christian workers. He considered no job beneath his dignity, whether it was cleaning up vomit or scrubbing the toilets after careless men left the bathroom filthy. Joe did what was asked with a soft smile on his face and with gratitude for the chance to help. He could be counted on to feed feeble men who wandered in off the street, and to undress and tuck into bed men who were too inebriated to take care of themselves.

One Sunday in the mission, an evangelist was delivering his evening message to the usual crowd of still and sullen men. When he made his regular appeal for people to come forward to accept Christ, one repentant drunk shuffled down the aisle to the altar and knelt to pray, crying out to God for help. The penitent sinner kept shouting, "Oh God, make me like Joe! Make me like Joe! Make me like Joe!" The director of the
mission leaned over and said to the man, "Son, I think it would be better if you prayed, ‘Make me like Jesus!’" The man looked up at the director with a quizzical expression on his face and asked, "Is he like Joe?"

What if our lives reflected the same attitude of Joe? What if our lives reflected the same willingness to serve others like Joe was able to serve others? What if our lives captured the same spirit of compassion and understanding and change that were manifest in Joe’s life after he experienced the risen Lord? Would that impact our community? Would that impact our congregations? Would that make a difference as we follow Jesus’ command? Would that help the Church draw all people unto Jesus? Would it hurt anything if we tried to find out? Amen.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Politics and Preaching

I've found myself in a bit of a conundrum.

One of my congregation members is running for Sheriff of Austin County.  I admire this man.  He's family oriented.  He's Constable of the county, and he has gone out of his way to be visible in the community--attending football and basketball games to direct traffic, working with kids, and taking time to make sure our church's Halloween hayride has an escort around the community.

I support him with his campaign to become Sheriff.  However, I haven't publicly declared that I will cast my ballot for him--or any of the other candidates running for Sheriff (one whom happens to be my neighbor and another who I know well too).

There's a reason I haven't done so: my position as pastor in the community.  Cat Spring is a one church town.  As such, I am highly visible in all that I do as this congregation's pastor.  People watch what I do and listen to what I say (for better or worse).  Part of my calling is to proclaim the Gospel and then allow others to make choices based upon their understanding of that Gospel.  This includes the realm of politics.  In no uncertain terms am I to seek to persuade people to vote Democrat or Republican.  In no uncertain terms am I to endorse any candidate who runs for office.  This would be seen as violating the two kingdoms understanding of the Lutheran heritage.  It could--if I proclaimed such things from the pulpit--open my congregation up to investigation by the IRS.  It could also be seen as me using my influence to sway an election by making it seem like God prefers one candidate over another (as if I fully know  God's will as to which candidate should be elected to office).  It also could cause potential problems because if there are folks in my congregation who support one of the other candidates, I could be seen as alienating them.

Because of all these things, I will not and cannot endorse any candidate for office, even if that person is a member of my congregation.  It may sound harsh, but such is the role I believe I am called to.

Unfortunately, this also means I get stuck in some sticky situations at times.  I've been invited to attend a fundraiser for my member's campaign.  While I want to go to show my support, I also know this could be seen as a public endorsement.  Then, all those things above could come into play.

I'm going to have to decline the invitation: not because I don't want to go; not because I don't support my congregation member; but because as a preacher, I need to keep my distance from politics as much as I can.  I hope my folks understand.