Yesterday (on Sunday), I had the pleasure and privilege of baptizing three children from the same family. These three children (there is a younger one I hope to baptize some day in the future) have grown up in a fine Christian family, and each has made the decision to follow Jesus in their lives. For each of them, it was a very natural step. This family recently came into the life of our church. They had worshiped with us for about a year and made a decision after attending our Cornerstone Class (for those exploring the idea of church membership) to become a part of us.
(Membership in a church, by the way, is supposed to be more than a having a name on a roll. It means belonging to one another in a community of faith, hope, and love. The Bible says it this way: Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others (Romans 12.4-5 NIV). We join together as "members" of the body of Christ, giving Him hands and feet to accomplish His mission.)
Although these three children had made a decision to follow Jesus already, none of them had yet had a believer's baptism. A few weeks ago, I was invited to their home to discuss the idea of baptism, with the result of yesterday's baptism as part of our worship service.
As meaningful as that was for the family, those they had invited to share in it, for me, and for our church as a whole, there was an unexpected blessing to come.
That afternoon, my son-in-law Rick, a fine Christian young man (he turned 23 last week), asked me if I would baptize him today (Monday) in our neighborhood pool. Now, you may need a little background.
Churches with different traditions baptize at different times and in different ways. Most of our discussions of baptism in the body of Christ concentrate on the meaning (what it is about) and the mode (how you do it.)
The meaning of baptism has been debated for many centuries: Is it necessary for salvation? Is it a symbol? Is it a promise (so that infants are baptized)? Is it for believers?
There are also a variety of modes used for baptism: sprinkling, pouring, and immersion.
While both of these are important, in my mind, the meaning is the most important.
So, what is baptism? The only place to get the definitive answer, in my mind, is from the Bible. Any other source (church tradition, etc.) can only inform the decision. What do we learn about baptism from the Bible?
Baptism is a symbol—an important symbol—of the Christian faith (rather than a means of grace). In other words, it a sign that someone is a believer, not a magic elixir that confers eternal life. Peter writes, "...this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also--not the removal of dirt from the body but the pledge of a good conscience toward God" (1 Peter 3.21 NIV, emphasis mine).
Baptism is also for believers. The command that Jesus left his disciples that is the end of Matthew's gospel, says, in part: "Therefore go and make disciples, baptizing them..." (Matthew 28.19 NIV). Note that you make a disciple and then baptize him. That is also the pattern of the New Testament--people believe and then they are baptized. There are no infant baptisms in the Bible, because infants cannot believe.
The Bible also says, "We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life" (Romans 6.4 NIV). It speaks of baptism symbolizing a new life, which shows repentance and faith have already occurred. Baptism, in the Bible, is for believers.
Why, then, do some baptize infants? While I could go into that, let me not make this post any longer than it needs to be. Let me just say that none of the defenses of the practice use the Bible. (Well, some use a creative parallel with circumcision, which is for infants, but note that in this passage, it really doesn't fly to make baptism for infants: "In him you were also circumcized, in the putting off off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead" (Colossians 2.11-12 NIV). Isn't it clear that the circumcision here comes when we believe have our sins forgiven?
The mode is also important and is related to the meaning.
How should we baptize? We do so by immersion, that is, by dipping one totally in the water, as opposed to sprinkling or pouring water on the person. You see, baptism is a wonderful symbol that communicates on three levels. Only baptism of believers by immersion encompasses all three.
First, baptism symbolizes the washing away of sin. As you can see, any mode of baptism can adequately show sins being washed away. However, the other two meanings can only be clearly communicated through immersion. Let's see how...
Second, baptism tells the story of Jesus—specifically his death, burial and resurrection. When one is placed under the water, it is symbolic of burial. When a person is brought out of the water, it proclaims the glorious resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ! No other mode of baptism can convey this beautiful portrait of the gospel of Jesus.
Third, baptism tells the story of the new believer: the Scripture says (as previously quoted), “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life” (Romans 6.4 NIV). When one is baptized, he or she is proclaiming, “The old me—who did not yet follow Jesus—is dead. There is a new me! I have been raised with Christ and am now following Him!” Again, the Bible says it best (in 2 Corinthians 5.17): “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” It’s kind of hard to see how others could understand baptism differently when they read the words of the Bible.
Now, back to my son-in-law Rick. He had become serious about being a believer in Jesus when he was a teenager. And he was baptized after that time. However, he was baptized by sprinkling and not by immersion. So, he had the meaning right--a believer's baptism--but the mode wrong--it wasn't by immersion.
As I said earlier, while both are important, the meaning (to me) is the more important.
Some people want others to be baptized just to conform to the teaching of the church they lead. I always want people to be baptized in the correct mode (and meaning, for that matter) because they are convinced that it is biblically correct. I am, therefore, patient, believing that baptism is best when done out of conviction that it is what God has in mind. The Ethiopian in Acts 8 asks to be baptized. Now, baptism is a command--make no mistake about that--but with different ideas, it makes sense to let people study the issue to be sure what it is all about.
I most times end a baptism by saying, "This is but water. What prevents you from being baptized?"
I am not sure how God motivated Rick to request baptism, but I know that it was born of his own decision that he wanted to have the right meaning and the right mode.
I mentioned that he wanted to know if I would baptize him in our neighborhood pool. I would have been privileged to do so. A cloudy and relatively cool Labor Day made us rethink. Knowing that the water from the previous day's baptism would still be in the baptistry at the church building, a group of us convened there. It was a special time.
Some wonder why such a big deal about a symbol. I guess I can ask why some people make such a big deal about a wedding ring. It's only a symbol, too! And as I often tell people when discussion the subject of baptism comes up: "Baptism is the wedding ring of the Christian life--a symbol of the commitment between Jesus and His 'bride,' the church."
Thanks, Rick. To paraphrase God the Father at the baptism of Jesus: You are my son-in-law, whom I love. With you I am well pleased!
Monday, September 01, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
What Is the Truth?
My last post--about a month ago--was entitled, "The Truth Will Set You Free." And it will. But as we asked then, "What is truth?" We also mentioned that truth can be missed on either side of it--to the right OR to the left. We often miss at least a bit of the truth because of our own perspectives, and we must be very careful because of that.
For instance, a few years ago, my favorite team, Georgia Tech, beat our arch rivals (the university of georgia) in one of the most exciting games in history by the outlandish score of 51-48 in overtime. Now, uga was just about to score what would have been the winning touchdown. They were practically on our goal line. Rather than kick an easy field goal to win the game, they decided to run it in. Instead of the winning touchdown (which uga almost always scores at the end of the game to win), the official signaled a fumble and said that Tech recovered. We ran out the clock and won, as I said, in overtime. The fumble, however, was very controversial to some. For me, it was as clear as could be. Just because I was in the stadium in the upper deck on the opposite 40 yard line, and couldn't see underneath the pile, it was obviously a fumble! In fact, just about everyone wearing gold saw it as a fumble. Funny, anyone wearing red saw it as being down and a defender grabbing the ball after the runner was tackled. You get the point. We all are affected to some degree by our own perspectives.
That's why I often say to people, "There are at least two side to every story--and sometimes 5 or 6!" Sometimes it is honest. We say what we see, and we see from where we stand. At other times, hypocrisy or downright deceit enters into our telling selective facts and leaving others untold. We believe we should give our best spin and let someone else bring forth evidence of a different sort.
That's one reason I appreciate the Bible writers so much. The other week, as I continue preaching through the gospel of John, we were dealing with some of the absolutely ultimate claims that Jesus made about Himself and God the Father. I so much appreciate that John does not only give the claims of Jesus, but also states the objections from others to those claims. The example stated was in John 8 where his critics asked Jesus, "Aren't we right in saying you are a Samaritan and demon-possessed?"
Don't get me wrong--no one who reads John is unclear about his own opinions about Jesus. He states his purpose in writing is so that people will believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing his readers will have life through the name of Jesus. He is not unbiased. Yet, he freely tells what others say about Jesus.
Why does John (and other gospel writers) feel so free to state what others are saying? It's simple: he is not afraid of the truth. Remember, the truth will set you free, and one day (maybe not here) all truth will be set forth and all will be made right. So those who love the truth aren't afraid to speak out what others say, for we believe the truth will be known, and the truth will bring freedom.
It's disappointing at times when some people set themselves up as the only arbiters of truth and spout it out only as they see it and are seemingly afraid for the other side (or sides!) to be given a hearing. I have been involved in, thankfully, only a few major disputes. Because I know that I am not infallible, I tell my side but try to tell people the view of the other side, even if I don't agree with it (obviously) or can't make much sense of it. And sometimes I can indeed understand the other side given their point of view, though I may think they hold the wrong point of view for assessing the situation.
Recently, I have been saddened and bothered by some issues in a disagreement between two Christian families (not in our church) who share similar visions and have worked together for many years. The decision to go in separate directions affects many other people.
I am saddened that sometimes it seems people can see things only from their own perspective and cannot even seem to appreciate the other person's point of view, even if they disagree with it. The real danger there is that we set ourselves up as righteous and the other side becomes the devil. This was often the case with Jesus' opponents. They were so sure they were right that they called Jesus demon-possessed. When we learn to at least see things from the point of view of the other person, though, we may move to a more healthy "Paul and Barnabas" kind of disagreement, where the differences are too real and the division too deep to resolve while staying together but where there can be mutual appreciation and support while going in different directions. Now, it may be that at times it really is a total "good vs. evil" situation, but often our inability to give someone else the benefit of the doubt points to our own lack of humility in assessing the truth. Paul once said that he didn't even judge himself but would leave that to his Lord.
Sometimes I will have a person come in to talk about someone else--whether a spouse or family member or other. This person may tell me all kinds of things about how bad the other person is. Knowing as I do that there are at least two sides to every story (and maybe five or six), I try to realize that it is wrong for me to form an opinion based on only one perspective. Since the person has come alone, however, I have found a way to try to get other perspectives. I may ask, for instance, "If so-and-so was sitting here, with us, what do you think his response would be to what you have said?" or "What would her side of the story be if she came in to tell it?" I feel a bit better when the person can actually tell me what he or she thinks the response would be. I feel an "uh-0h", though, when someone says, "I have no idea what he would say." Although not the only possibility, one possibility for that answer is that the person coming to me has made no attempt to understand the other person's point of view. And when that happens--or fails to happen--there can be no real communication.
Another sad thing in a situation like the one I have described is when self-appointed righteous people take sides and begin to "stir the pot" by calling others with all kinds of information and accusations, trying to get them to take sides. It is amazing that some can be so blind as to think by gossip, innuendo, and even name calling that they are advancing the cause of Christ and are on some kind of holy mission for God. I am reminded of Jesus' words to his disciples that some would kill them, thinking they were doing a service for God. The reputation of many can be murdered because we are so sure of the truth without having some humility.
The most disappointing of all, however, is that some people are so prone to listen to one side of a story and not even ask the other side involved for a response. It is almost beyond comprehension. If I had two really good friends who had a fight and one of them came to me with his side, should I not have the decency to at least call my other friend and say, "I have heard some really disturbing things about you and want to hear your side of it"? Are we so quick to believe bad about people we have loved and trusted that we don't at least give them a word? Forget our country's "innocent until proven guilty" ideal--isn't this just the way of Jesus?
In the situation I am aware of, hearing both sides helps me understand each's perspective. And I understand, I think, both perspectives though I don't agree with both. When disagreements arise between Christians or between Christian groups, it's important to ask, "What is the truth?" And the only way to discover that is to listen to different sides. When that has happened, let people judge which side they believe is closest to the truth. Let them move forward with that. But let us be careful of pitting the sides of Jesus versus the devil when it may be more on the line of Paul and Barnabas.
Yes, I am thankful that the apostle John is not afraid to share what critics of Jesus believe. I am glad that he is not afraid of the truth. I don't want to be afraid of the truth, either, because the truth has set me free.
For instance, a few years ago, my favorite team, Georgia Tech, beat our arch rivals (the university of georgia) in one of the most exciting games in history by the outlandish score of 51-48 in overtime. Now, uga was just about to score what would have been the winning touchdown. They were practically on our goal line. Rather than kick an easy field goal to win the game, they decided to run it in. Instead of the winning touchdown (which uga almost always scores at the end of the game to win), the official signaled a fumble and said that Tech recovered. We ran out the clock and won, as I said, in overtime. The fumble, however, was very controversial to some. For me, it was as clear as could be. Just because I was in the stadium in the upper deck on the opposite 40 yard line, and couldn't see underneath the pile, it was obviously a fumble! In fact, just about everyone wearing gold saw it as a fumble. Funny, anyone wearing red saw it as being down and a defender grabbing the ball after the runner was tackled. You get the point. We all are affected to some degree by our own perspectives.
That's why I often say to people, "There are at least two side to every story--and sometimes 5 or 6!" Sometimes it is honest. We say what we see, and we see from where we stand. At other times, hypocrisy or downright deceit enters into our telling selective facts and leaving others untold. We believe we should give our best spin and let someone else bring forth evidence of a different sort.
That's one reason I appreciate the Bible writers so much. The other week, as I continue preaching through the gospel of John, we were dealing with some of the absolutely ultimate claims that Jesus made about Himself and God the Father. I so much appreciate that John does not only give the claims of Jesus, but also states the objections from others to those claims. The example stated was in John 8 where his critics asked Jesus, "Aren't we right in saying you are a Samaritan and demon-possessed?"
Don't get me wrong--no one who reads John is unclear about his own opinions about Jesus. He states his purpose in writing is so that people will believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing his readers will have life through the name of Jesus. He is not unbiased. Yet, he freely tells what others say about Jesus.
Why does John (and other gospel writers) feel so free to state what others are saying? It's simple: he is not afraid of the truth. Remember, the truth will set you free, and one day (maybe not here) all truth will be set forth and all will be made right. So those who love the truth aren't afraid to speak out what others say, for we believe the truth will be known, and the truth will bring freedom.
It's disappointing at times when some people set themselves up as the only arbiters of truth and spout it out only as they see it and are seemingly afraid for the other side (or sides!) to be given a hearing. I have been involved in, thankfully, only a few major disputes. Because I know that I am not infallible, I tell my side but try to tell people the view of the other side, even if I don't agree with it (obviously) or can't make much sense of it. And sometimes I can indeed understand the other side given their point of view, though I may think they hold the wrong point of view for assessing the situation.
Recently, I have been saddened and bothered by some issues in a disagreement between two Christian families (not in our church) who share similar visions and have worked together for many years. The decision to go in separate directions affects many other people.
I am saddened that sometimes it seems people can see things only from their own perspective and cannot even seem to appreciate the other person's point of view, even if they disagree with it. The real danger there is that we set ourselves up as righteous and the other side becomes the devil. This was often the case with Jesus' opponents. They were so sure they were right that they called Jesus demon-possessed. When we learn to at least see things from the point of view of the other person, though, we may move to a more healthy "Paul and Barnabas" kind of disagreement, where the differences are too real and the division too deep to resolve while staying together but where there can be mutual appreciation and support while going in different directions. Now, it may be that at times it really is a total "good vs. evil" situation, but often our inability to give someone else the benefit of the doubt points to our own lack of humility in assessing the truth. Paul once said that he didn't even judge himself but would leave that to his Lord.
Sometimes I will have a person come in to talk about someone else--whether a spouse or family member or other. This person may tell me all kinds of things about how bad the other person is. Knowing as I do that there are at least two sides to every story (and maybe five or six), I try to realize that it is wrong for me to form an opinion based on only one perspective. Since the person has come alone, however, I have found a way to try to get other perspectives. I may ask, for instance, "If so-and-so was sitting here, with us, what do you think his response would be to what you have said?" or "What would her side of the story be if she came in to tell it?" I feel a bit better when the person can actually tell me what he or she thinks the response would be. I feel an "uh-0h", though, when someone says, "I have no idea what he would say." Although not the only possibility, one possibility for that answer is that the person coming to me has made no attempt to understand the other person's point of view. And when that happens--or fails to happen--there can be no real communication.
Another sad thing in a situation like the one I have described is when self-appointed righteous people take sides and begin to "stir the pot" by calling others with all kinds of information and accusations, trying to get them to take sides. It is amazing that some can be so blind as to think by gossip, innuendo, and even name calling that they are advancing the cause of Christ and are on some kind of holy mission for God. I am reminded of Jesus' words to his disciples that some would kill them, thinking they were doing a service for God. The reputation of many can be murdered because we are so sure of the truth without having some humility.
The most disappointing of all, however, is that some people are so prone to listen to one side of a story and not even ask the other side involved for a response. It is almost beyond comprehension. If I had two really good friends who had a fight and one of them came to me with his side, should I not have the decency to at least call my other friend and say, "I have heard some really disturbing things about you and want to hear your side of it"? Are we so quick to believe bad about people we have loved and trusted that we don't at least give them a word? Forget our country's "innocent until proven guilty" ideal--isn't this just the way of Jesus?
In the situation I am aware of, hearing both sides helps me understand each's perspective. And I understand, I think, both perspectives though I don't agree with both. When disagreements arise between Christians or between Christian groups, it's important to ask, "What is the truth?" And the only way to discover that is to listen to different sides. When that has happened, let people judge which side they believe is closest to the truth. Let them move forward with that. But let us be careful of pitting the sides of Jesus versus the devil when it may be more on the line of Paul and Barnabas.
Yes, I am thankful that the apostle John is not afraid to share what critics of Jesus believe. I am glad that he is not afraid of the truth. I don't want to be afraid of the truth, either, because the truth has set me free.
Friday, June 27, 2008
The Truth WIll Set You Free
Jesus said it: "The truth will set you free." While He had in mind for the occasion a specific truth for a specific freedom (I will be teaching on that passage from John 8 on July 6), there is a reason that this is a much quoted adage, even by those who don't know it came from Jesus. That reason? Well, because it's--how else can you say it?--TRUE!
For instance, we are often in bondage to our lies. We make up a lie to get out of trouble or simply to avoid embarrassment, and then we end up telling another lie to cover up the first one. We may give slightly different versions to different people, and then we have a problem keeping our stories straight. Besides, we have the inner turmoil of knowing we are not doing the right thing. Being committed to the truth sets us free from such stresses.
We are often in bondage to misconceptions. Someone else may put a guilt trip on us or manipulate us in some way. We fight against feelings of inadequacy, failure, false guilt, etc. When we finally see the truth clearly, what a rush of relief! We are free!
Jesus was committed to truth, and while the truth sets you free, those who don't know the truth or won't see the truth often fight against the truth--and the truth-tellers. Jesus was caught in such positions often. Many people seem to see life from a skewed perspective and interpret everything from that perspective. They think they know the truth--to the detriment of themselves and others.
Jesus often found himself walking what we might think was a middle course between such people. On one hand, we would see Him challenging the hard-heartedness of the Pharisees, who always looked down on those they considered "sinners." He considered them legalistic hypocrites. On the other hand, Jesus was never soft on sin itself. Instead, he preached forgiveness and change (repentance). He never condoned or advocated continuing in sinful behavior. He eschewed both legalism and license.
While Jesus indeed walked a middle ground in such instances, it would be a mistake to simply label Him as a "middle-of-the-roader." Some folks make this mistake. They think since they see Jesus as a moderate--somewhere between legalism and license--that being a moderate is the a philosophy for living life. But Jesus was not committed to a philosophy of moderation. He was committed to TRUTH.
You can miss the truth on either side. That's why the truth almost always seems to be a middle position. It's not. The truth is the truth. You can just miss it on either side. However you decide to label those positions is irrelevant. If you are travelling on a straight and narrow road, you can fall into the ditch on either the right or the left. We must be careful that we are not so afraid of the left ditch that we swerve too far too the right! (Or vice versa.) And that's a mistake too many make, in my opinion. (As an aside, it is interesting that in the Old Testament, it is often said that we should not go "to the left or the right" and good kings are described as "not going to the left or the right.")
Of course, a great question that you have no doubt already thought of in conjuction with this is, "What is truth?" (It's the same question that Pilate asked Jesus at His trial.) Variations are, "How do I know the truth?" and "What makes you think you know the truth?" Just how do we judge what it the truth?
Jesus obviously claimed to know the truth. He even claimed to be the truth--part of His claim to be the unique Son of God. In His prayer not long before Pilate asked the question, He had already answered it. He prayed, just before His arrest, that His Father would "sanctify" (or set apart) His followers by "the truth." Then He defined it for us: "Your word is truth." (See also the quote at the end to learn how to know the truth.)
Some today believe that truth is relative. In other words, something may be true for you but not for me. It may be true for one group but not for another. There may be a sense where that is correct--if we are loose with what we include as "truth." In other words, one product may relieve my headache but not yours. But that's not on the level of what we mean by TRUTH here. Truth, as we are speaking of it, is ultimate reality, what constitutes moral right and wrong, the meaning of life, etc. Jesus said that truth is not something we find through our own opinions; final truth is revealed to us by God. He is the judge of truth.
So don't be misled into thinking that truth comes from a political, theological, economic, or any other kind of philosphy. The question to ask when seeking to form an opinion on an issue, then, is not, "What is the conservative view?" or "What is the liberal view?" or "What is the moderate view?" but "What is God's view?"
On specific issues, His truth may line up with the idea of one "group" on one and another "group" on another. And that may mean you are labeled as part of a group--incorrectly. Or others may disdain you because you don't hold to the "party line" in every instance. But that's okay. You are not going to be judged by the "party" one day. No, you will stand before Jesus.
And that's the truth. So look to Him for His truth, and be prayerful and careful--and also a bit humble--in those areas in which you have to take the principles He gives and discern how best to apply them to a new situation.
Let's allow the truth giver to have the last word. Meditate on the relatively less known first part of this quote, and it will give you more insight into the well-known second part:
Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really by disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
For instance, we are often in bondage to our lies. We make up a lie to get out of trouble or simply to avoid embarrassment, and then we end up telling another lie to cover up the first one. We may give slightly different versions to different people, and then we have a problem keeping our stories straight. Besides, we have the inner turmoil of knowing we are not doing the right thing. Being committed to the truth sets us free from such stresses.
We are often in bondage to misconceptions. Someone else may put a guilt trip on us or manipulate us in some way. We fight against feelings of inadequacy, failure, false guilt, etc. When we finally see the truth clearly, what a rush of relief! We are free!
Jesus was committed to truth, and while the truth sets you free, those who don't know the truth or won't see the truth often fight against the truth--and the truth-tellers. Jesus was caught in such positions often. Many people seem to see life from a skewed perspective and interpret everything from that perspective. They think they know the truth--to the detriment of themselves and others.
Jesus often found himself walking what we might think was a middle course between such people. On one hand, we would see Him challenging the hard-heartedness of the Pharisees, who always looked down on those they considered "sinners." He considered them legalistic hypocrites. On the other hand, Jesus was never soft on sin itself. Instead, he preached forgiveness and change (repentance). He never condoned or advocated continuing in sinful behavior. He eschewed both legalism and license.
While Jesus indeed walked a middle ground in such instances, it would be a mistake to simply label Him as a "middle-of-the-roader." Some folks make this mistake. They think since they see Jesus as a moderate--somewhere between legalism and license--that being a moderate is the a philosophy for living life. But Jesus was not committed to a philosophy of moderation. He was committed to TRUTH.
You can miss the truth on either side. That's why the truth almost always seems to be a middle position. It's not. The truth is the truth. You can just miss it on either side. However you decide to label those positions is irrelevant. If you are travelling on a straight and narrow road, you can fall into the ditch on either the right or the left. We must be careful that we are not so afraid of the left ditch that we swerve too far too the right! (Or vice versa.) And that's a mistake too many make, in my opinion. (As an aside, it is interesting that in the Old Testament, it is often said that we should not go "to the left or the right" and good kings are described as "not going to the left or the right.")
Of course, a great question that you have no doubt already thought of in conjuction with this is, "What is truth?" (It's the same question that Pilate asked Jesus at His trial.) Variations are, "How do I know the truth?" and "What makes you think you know the truth?" Just how do we judge what it the truth?
Jesus obviously claimed to know the truth. He even claimed to be the truth--part of His claim to be the unique Son of God. In His prayer not long before Pilate asked the question, He had already answered it. He prayed, just before His arrest, that His Father would "sanctify" (or set apart) His followers by "the truth." Then He defined it for us: "Your word is truth." (See also the quote at the end to learn how to know the truth.)
Some today believe that truth is relative. In other words, something may be true for you but not for me. It may be true for one group but not for another. There may be a sense where that is correct--if we are loose with what we include as "truth." In other words, one product may relieve my headache but not yours. But that's not on the level of what we mean by TRUTH here. Truth, as we are speaking of it, is ultimate reality, what constitutes moral right and wrong, the meaning of life, etc. Jesus said that truth is not something we find through our own opinions; final truth is revealed to us by God. He is the judge of truth.
So don't be misled into thinking that truth comes from a political, theological, economic, or any other kind of philosphy. The question to ask when seeking to form an opinion on an issue, then, is not, "What is the conservative view?" or "What is the liberal view?" or "What is the moderate view?" but "What is God's view?"
On specific issues, His truth may line up with the idea of one "group" on one and another "group" on another. And that may mean you are labeled as part of a group--incorrectly. Or others may disdain you because you don't hold to the "party line" in every instance. But that's okay. You are not going to be judged by the "party" one day. No, you will stand before Jesus.
And that's the truth. So look to Him for His truth, and be prayerful and careful--and also a bit humble--in those areas in which you have to take the principles He gives and discern how best to apply them to a new situation.
Let's allow the truth giver to have the last word. Meditate on the relatively less known first part of this quote, and it will give you more insight into the well-known second part:
Jesus said, "If you hold to my teaching, you are really by disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."
Monday, June 23, 2008
Custer's Last Stand
Last night at Clairmont Hills Baptist Church, we hosted the last service for Custer Avenue Baptist Church of Atlanta. Steve Powell, the last pastor, serves as our part time Minister to Senior Adults. His father was once the full time pastor of Custer Avenue. The church ministered to countless people in her 104 years of ministry. Like so many other churches, especially in urban areas where neighborhoods can change fairly quickly and residents for many years moved from inside the city to the suburbs, the last few decades for Custer Avenue have been marked by decline in membership. Custer Avenue, wanting to continue her legacy, has been generous in sharing remaining resources with several ministries. Among them are a gift for a perpetual scholarship at Truett-McConnel college, funds for an after-school ministry for at-risk kids, and mission funds and the resources for Steve to be on staff at our church.
I was privileged to be one of the speakers at the last service, which was very meaningful to the participants. Steve preached a short message, there was special worship music, and three of us who were recipients of Custer Avenue's kindness each shared briefly.
Here are my remarks...
Yet, today the inner city is once again vibrant and growing. How will we meet the challenge of reaching the city again for a new generation? I am part of an initiative, called the Urban Atlanta Impact Initiative, that is seeking the wisdom of God to answer this question. One thing is sure--the churches of the future inside the perimeter of Atlanta will be vastly different from those of the past. As only one example, I believe most will not invest in land and buildings as has been the habit in the past. How could they? The cost of land alone in urban Atlanta will prove prohibitive, at least for the first years, of almost any church. Quite likely, we will see a return to smaller churches (such as can meet in an apartment or condo), much like the house churches of the first century, even while some of the mega churches will continue to thrive. Others will meet in hotel ballrooms or theaters but will have small groups in homes. Even now, some churches are starting in coffee houses or similar venues, while some churches who are declining are opening their facilities to church planters who are planting churches in the same spaces but starting separate churches. It is wonderful to see these unselfish existing churches committing themselves to a legacy of faith, even though the expression of it will "look" different from their traditional practices (while the message of faith in Jesus will be the same--or it will all be for naught.) Certainly, it will be both interesting and exciting to observe the process as once again we will see God declare, "Behold, I do a new thing!"
I pray that through the initiative that I am privileged to be part of, we will see a new day and a revival of faith in God within the perimeter of Atlanta. I am sure I will share more later of what I see and hear in days ahead.
I was privileged to be one of the speakers at the last service, which was very meaningful to the participants. Steve preached a short message, there was special worship music, and three of us who were recipients of Custer Avenue's kindness each shared briefly.
Here are my remarks...
My grandfather (Papa) was named W. M. Pitts. He was a hardworking farmer who, along with my Granny, raised 9 children. Papa died when I was a freshman in high school. He was 88 years old.This brings up a topic that goes beyond the final service of one church. Over the past twenty years, many churches (as I said in my remarks) have held final services, and there will be more.
While we were sad that he died, he was not a failure in life because he died. At his funeral, it was a great celebration of his life. We recounted our memories of him and thought about the legacy he left behind.
One of my great memories of my Papa was his taking me into town with him. We would go from store to store, and we would hand out little red booklets that contained Scripture portions. He was my first witnessing example and trainer.
All nine of Papa’s children were trained up in the way of Lord, in the way they should go; even as his children have grown old (and some have passed away), they have not turned from it. Not that being a minister is a greater task in the kingdom than any other calling of God, but one of Papa’s sons was called to be a minister, two of his grandchildren, and at least two of his great-grandchildren and their families are on the mission field today.
Even though my Papa died almost thirty years ago, his life and legacy live on.
And I think about such things when a church holds her final service. Some see it as a sign of failure. I think such people are shortsighted. Just as it was a natural thing for my Papa and every other person to die, so it is with churches. I am not aware of any of the churches in the New Testament that have survived in unbroken line. Each came to the close of their natural ministry, and most churches do the same.
This has been particularly true inside the perimeter of Atlanta in the past twenty to forty years. Almost every traditional, long established Baptist church has experienced decline, and many of them have likewise had a celebration of their ministries in a final service, and Custer Avenue will not be the last.
Churches may come to the end of their life cycles for various reasons: changing neighborhoods, changing demographics, aging membership, rising secularism—we could go on and on. The important thing on a day like today is to celebrate the vibrant and eternal consequences of the ministry over the years and look at the legacy that is left behind. Just as it was not a failure for my Papa to die, it is not a failure for a church to come to an end of a ministry cycle. So while there is to be some sadness, even more there should be celebration—celebration of the life and the legacy.
Even as our church struggles with the decline that every other church has, we are grateful for your legacy, for your generosity will help us as we continue to seek to minister in this place.
Last summer, I was taking an annual prayer and study break, and I began to feel that it would be profitable for our church to have a part time Minister to Senior Adults. A majority of our members are seniors, and it was difficult to minister properly to them while seeking to reach out to the younger people around us.
Not long after that, Steve and I began to talk. Financially, we would not be able to pay a part time Senior Adult minister. Through the legacy of Custer Avenue, though, we are pleased that for two years we can have a monthly stipend so that we can have Steve serve in that position. Already he has proven to be a wonderful asset to our ministry here, and it is possible because of the legacy of Custer Avenue Baptist Church.
We are also a church that not only believes in the Cooperative Program to support missions around the world, we believe in hands-on missions as well. In the past couple of years we have had several experiences. First, there was a trip to NY state last summer to work with a new church. Twenty-five went last year and a similar number is going again this year. Pastor Pete Shults’ ministry has been greatly enhanced by this work. There have been three or four trips to Biloxi, Mississippi, to help with cleanup from Hurricane Katrina. Our members have gone on three trips to Africa—one each to Uganda, Gambia, and Nigeria. We have helped support short term mission opportunities of others as well.
In the next few months, one member will travel to China for ministry during the Olympics, a doctor is returning to Nigeria, and a recent college graduate is going to spend three years in Europe.
Seeing this commitment to missions, Steve wanted part of the legacy of Custer Avenue to be used for this kind of endeavor as we try to supplement the costs of our members so they can participate in such missions ventures. We are grateful for a generous grant of $15,000 from Custer Avenue for this kind of work, another example of the legacy you leave behind.
We can’t begin to tell you how much we appreciate what you are doing for us and others, and we pledge to continue to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ, the gospel that has been once for all entrusted to the saints, just as you have done for over 100 years. We ask for your prayers for us that, being only a bit over 50, we can continue to reach out to this community for many years to come.
Let me close by reading one verse of Scripture. It is found in Hebrews 6.
God is not unjust; He will not forget your work and the love you have shown Him as you have helped His people and continue to help them. (Hebrews 6.10)
Certainly, this verse aptly applies to Custer Avenue Baptist Church today. May God bless you!
Yet, today the inner city is once again vibrant and growing. How will we meet the challenge of reaching the city again for a new generation? I am part of an initiative, called the Urban Atlanta Impact Initiative, that is seeking the wisdom of God to answer this question. One thing is sure--the churches of the future inside the perimeter of Atlanta will be vastly different from those of the past. As only one example, I believe most will not invest in land and buildings as has been the habit in the past. How could they? The cost of land alone in urban Atlanta will prove prohibitive, at least for the first years, of almost any church. Quite likely, we will see a return to smaller churches (such as can meet in an apartment or condo), much like the house churches of the first century, even while some of the mega churches will continue to thrive. Others will meet in hotel ballrooms or theaters but will have small groups in homes. Even now, some churches are starting in coffee houses or similar venues, while some churches who are declining are opening their facilities to church planters who are planting churches in the same spaces but starting separate churches. It is wonderful to see these unselfish existing churches committing themselves to a legacy of faith, even though the expression of it will "look" different from their traditional practices (while the message of faith in Jesus will be the same--or it will all be for naught.) Certainly, it will be both interesting and exciting to observe the process as once again we will see God declare, "Behold, I do a new thing!"
I pray that through the initiative that I am privileged to be part of, we will see a new day and a revival of faith in God within the perimeter of Atlanta. I am sure I will share more later of what I see and hear in days ahead.
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Trip Back Home
Today is my dad's birthday. He is 79 years old. (His grandson Andy--my nephew--also shares the birthday and is 30 today.) I drove down to Thomaston this morning to say "Happy Birthday" to my dad. He was at his long time place of business--He still goes in daily and works--as I expected. My brother Stan and sister Debbie and nephew Andy were there when I arrived. Debbie had made some peach ice cream for the occasion, and they were all enjoying it as I came in. Other family members and friends were in and out during the day, and it was a good visit.
Lately, whenever I visit my hometown, I get a bit nostalgic. I think back to all the great memories I had growing up. I realize what I miss by not being around my larger family. (Read a couple of posts back to understand how important my own family is to me.) I am the only one of my siblings who has moved away from home. (Marsha, my other sister who I missed by a few minutes today, did move a couple of years ago--a whole 20 miles away!) I was excited start the adventure of life when high school was over and never regretted moving to Atlanta to attend Georgia Tech. Living in California for a year after graduation doing some mission work was a wonderful experience. Even living in Texas for a few years while in seminary was palatable. (If you ever wonder why Texans think Texas is so great, it's because the state is so large they have never been out of it.)
It was a blessing to be able to move back to Georgia after graduation (we prayerfully considered heading out to California) to start a church. We have lived in three places in Georgia, and we are closest to Thomaston now--90 miles, which is not bad at all, but being a pastor is not conducive to a lot of weekend travel! I actually once had the opportunity to move back to Thomaston as a pastor, but didn't in the end. Even reflecting on that, I believe it was the right decision, and we love where we are--Atlanta feels like home to us--but I am simply reporting that I am at the age when the scent of nostalgia has become a strong and pleasing aroma when I drive into town.
For instance, I worked for several summers for my dad, and going into the back of the building brings back a lot of memories--not all good, since some involved actual labor! Driving around the town square or going into the church where I grew up (my mom works there) or driving by places I attended school or played ball or where I lived, brings back good memories and even a healthy sense of melancholy.
My sister Debbie had compiled a group of stories from my Dad's lifetime--mostly his childhood--and presented him and the rest of us a copy today. She did a great job with it and hopes it encourages some of the rest of us to add to it.
Dad is leaving for Florida tomorrow, going to Daytona, where we always went for vacation when I was young. So in our reminiscing today, we thought back to "The Hacienda," the motel we stayed in all those years (which was torn down for a larger hotel or condos years ago), the Inlet Harbor, and he even brought up the volleyball game with the girls again. (Ask me about that later.)
I even ate a Piggy Park today. It was one of the few times since "the incident" when I was a senior in high school. Piggie Park is a drive-in--kind of like Sonic, but a local affair. I can't tell you how many grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milks I had there as a youngster. Today I got a hamburger, and how good it was. Their hamburgers are scrambled, and they have a sauce that mixes ketchup and mustard together, and it wasn't just good--it brought back other good memories of years gone by.
"The incident" was a rather humorous affair. I had a CB (Citizen's Band) radio in my car as a teenager, and one day I pulled into Piggy Park with my two good friends, Dennis and Tommy. After we pushed the botton on the speaker and received the familiar, "Take your order, please?" we ordered our food. I was parked near the kitchen, and I began to talk on my CB. We discovered, with our windows down, that our transmission was "bleeding over" to the nearby speakers. In other words, you could hear our voices coming out of some of the drive-in speakers when we talked into the CB. Tommy saw a girl in a car nearby and had an idea. He said, "Hey, Carla!" into the microphone. Sure enough, she could hear him but thought it originated from Piggy Park, not a car nearby. So she started waving. Tommy then took it a step further. "I can't hear you unless you push the button." So she did. And what did she hear? "Take your order, please?"
As other cars drove in, we made mischievous use of our newly discovered powers. As soon as someone pulled up, one of us would say, "Take your order, please?"
After a few minutes, we began to notice people in the kitchen--the walls were glass so they could see out--looking intently at each car. We began to play it cool--and sweat--all at the same time. I began to think it was time to leave, and was about it do so, when the owner's son, a few years older than me who lived right around the corner from us so we knew each other, came out the door and to the car. He kept his cool pretty much but was pretty perturbed at us. It was then that we discovered that the "bleeding over" of our transmissions was not limited to just a few parking spaces--they were going out over the whole system to every car!
David (the owner's son) said, "Fred, you may come here several times a week, but we've got a real problem here. We ask people for their order and they are saying, "I've already given you my order ten times!" (I may have left out a few colorful words in that last sentence.)
Needless to say, we were repentant and thought we had gotten away with a mild consequence. That is, we thought that until we got home. When I dropped off Dennis, his mother had already been contacted. So had my parents. Their consequences were a bit more substantial than just a talking to, though nothing that left permanent scarring.
The ironic thing is that David knew both Dennis and me and called our parents. He didn't know Tommy, who did about 75% of the talking. It was another one of those occasions when I learned that any time I did something wrong, I would get caught! (And I learned that sometimes people who did the most would get away with it!)
See--who wouldn't get nostalgic about home when you have such wonderful memories as these?
Happy Birthday, Dad! The members of the "prodigal" family up in Atlanta all say, "We love you!"
Lately, whenever I visit my hometown, I get a bit nostalgic. I think back to all the great memories I had growing up. I realize what I miss by not being around my larger family. (Read a couple of posts back to understand how important my own family is to me.) I am the only one of my siblings who has moved away from home. (Marsha, my other sister who I missed by a few minutes today, did move a couple of years ago--a whole 20 miles away!) I was excited start the adventure of life when high school was over and never regretted moving to Atlanta to attend Georgia Tech. Living in California for a year after graduation doing some mission work was a wonderful experience. Even living in Texas for a few years while in seminary was palatable. (If you ever wonder why Texans think Texas is so great, it's because the state is so large they have never been out of it.)
It was a blessing to be able to move back to Georgia after graduation (we prayerfully considered heading out to California) to start a church. We have lived in three places in Georgia, and we are closest to Thomaston now--90 miles, which is not bad at all, but being a pastor is not conducive to a lot of weekend travel! I actually once had the opportunity to move back to Thomaston as a pastor, but didn't in the end. Even reflecting on that, I believe it was the right decision, and we love where we are--Atlanta feels like home to us--but I am simply reporting that I am at the age when the scent of nostalgia has become a strong and pleasing aroma when I drive into town.
For instance, I worked for several summers for my dad, and going into the back of the building brings back a lot of memories--not all good, since some involved actual labor! Driving around the town square or going into the church where I grew up (my mom works there) or driving by places I attended school or played ball or where I lived, brings back good memories and even a healthy sense of melancholy.
My sister Debbie had compiled a group of stories from my Dad's lifetime--mostly his childhood--and presented him and the rest of us a copy today. She did a great job with it and hopes it encourages some of the rest of us to add to it.
Dad is leaving for Florida tomorrow, going to Daytona, where we always went for vacation when I was young. So in our reminiscing today, we thought back to "The Hacienda," the motel we stayed in all those years (which was torn down for a larger hotel or condos years ago), the Inlet Harbor, and he even brought up the volleyball game with the girls again. (Ask me about that later.)
I even ate a Piggy Park today. It was one of the few times since "the incident" when I was a senior in high school. Piggie Park is a drive-in--kind of like Sonic, but a local affair. I can't tell you how many grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milks I had there as a youngster. Today I got a hamburger, and how good it was. Their hamburgers are scrambled, and they have a sauce that mixes ketchup and mustard together, and it wasn't just good--it brought back other good memories of years gone by.
"The incident" was a rather humorous affair. I had a CB (Citizen's Band) radio in my car as a teenager, and one day I pulled into Piggy Park with my two good friends, Dennis and Tommy. After we pushed the botton on the speaker and received the familiar, "Take your order, please?" we ordered our food. I was parked near the kitchen, and I began to talk on my CB. We discovered, with our windows down, that our transmission was "bleeding over" to the nearby speakers. In other words, you could hear our voices coming out of some of the drive-in speakers when we talked into the CB. Tommy saw a girl in a car nearby and had an idea. He said, "Hey, Carla!" into the microphone. Sure enough, she could hear him but thought it originated from Piggy Park, not a car nearby. So she started waving. Tommy then took it a step further. "I can't hear you unless you push the button." So she did. And what did she hear? "Take your order, please?"
As other cars drove in, we made mischievous use of our newly discovered powers. As soon as someone pulled up, one of us would say, "Take your order, please?"
After a few minutes, we began to notice people in the kitchen--the walls were glass so they could see out--looking intently at each car. We began to play it cool--and sweat--all at the same time. I began to think it was time to leave, and was about it do so, when the owner's son, a few years older than me who lived right around the corner from us so we knew each other, came out the door and to the car. He kept his cool pretty much but was pretty perturbed at us. It was then that we discovered that the "bleeding over" of our transmissions was not limited to just a few parking spaces--they were going out over the whole system to every car!
David (the owner's son) said, "Fred, you may come here several times a week, but we've got a real problem here. We ask people for their order and they are saying, "I've already given you my order ten times!" (I may have left out a few colorful words in that last sentence.)
Needless to say, we were repentant and thought we had gotten away with a mild consequence. That is, we thought that until we got home. When I dropped off Dennis, his mother had already been contacted. So had my parents. Their consequences were a bit more substantial than just a talking to, though nothing that left permanent scarring.
The ironic thing is that David knew both Dennis and me and called our parents. He didn't know Tommy, who did about 75% of the talking. It was another one of those occasions when I learned that any time I did something wrong, I would get caught! (And I learned that sometimes people who did the most would get away with it!)
See--who wouldn't get nostalgic about home when you have such wonderful memories as these?
Happy Birthday, Dad! The members of the "prodigal" family up in Atlanta all say, "We love you!"
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A Good Day with the Normans
Today is Father's Day. It has been a wonderful day for me. At our Sunday lunch, each of our children (without too much arm twisting from their mom) shared some of their thoughts, feelings, and memories about their dad (that's me, if you are a bit slow), and it was all very encouraging and uplifting.
We also had some very special guests--the Normans, some of our best friends. Where we have five children, there are six in their family, and the first five in each of our families were born within a few months of each other. Of the children, the older two were not with us. Spencer, the oldest, directs a children's Christian camp in Indiana, if I have my facts straight. Catherine, the only girl among the gang, is on a summer mission trip to South Africa.
Those with us today, then, were the mom, Becky, and the four youngest boys: Willis (who just graduated from high school), David, Joel, and Charles. Also missing was the father, Steve, who has been my best friend since college. Steve would have loved to have been here. We would have had a lot of laughs if Steve had been able to join us. He would have regaled us with stories and jokes and commentary on life. Being the brilliant engineer, he might have helped us troubleshoot any problem we might be having. Steve couldn't be with us. He died of a rare brain disorder called Pick's disease three years ago at the age of 52.
I really wish Steve could have been here today, because it was an extra special day, and that started before lunch. I had the incredible privilege of baptizing Steve's four boys who were with us this morning. All of the Norman kids, just like the Norman parents, are followers of Jesus. They grew up in such a way that it has been a very natural step for each of them to make a decision to follow Jesus. Each has made that decision over the years, but for some reason, none of them had been baptized. While baptism is a symbol, it is a very important symbol. In fact, it is a commanded symbol. And the beauty of this symbol is unsurpassed. This simple symbol--lowering someone into the water and raising them back up again--communicates Christian truth on three levels:
1. It symbolizes the washing away of our sins. (My daughter Abigail earlier in life told me that she wanted to be "bath-tized," and I thought how funny that was; then it occured to me how close she really was! As we get cleaned up on the outside in a bath, baptism symbolizes how we get cleaned up on the inside!)
2. It tells the story of Jesus. When a person is lowered into the water, it symbolizes the death and burial of Jesus. The bringing of the person out of the water represents the resurrection of Jesus--how God raised Him from the dead. In baptism, the gospel is preached!
3. It tells the person's story. The Bible says we are "buried with Jesus in baptism" and "raised to walk in newness of life." Baptism tells onlookers that the person being baptized is changed. The old person has "passed away." Everything has "become new." The new person follows Jesus.
Several months ago, Becky began to talk to me about baptizing the boys. We finally decided that Father's Day would be a very appropriate time. When Jesus was baptized, a voice was heard from heaven saying, "This is my Son, whom I love. With him I am well pleased." I know that there was another father in heaven who likewise is well-pleased with the sons that he loves.
At least a dozen family members and friends of the Normans were at the service to share in this special time. Someone said it was a shame that Steve couldn't be there. I told the congregation that I wasn't sure what folks in heaven are and are not able to do regarding earth, but I asked God today to allow Steve to view our proceedings, and I have a sense that would be something the Father would be pleased to do. (I also shared with the folks at lunch that I also prayed that Steve would wait for me until he told everyone else the dog story...)
I am grateful for the time with Normans today, both in the service and at lunch. It made for a great Father's Day for us all.
For those who did not have the pleasure of knowing my friend Steve, I am including a portion of the remarks that I made at his funeral three years ago. I think it will give you a flavor of his uniqueness.
This is from the funeral of March 3, 2005, after his death on March 1:
Steve is the most brilliant person I have ever known. He could figure out and fix anything, whether it was schoolwork, or computers, or cars, or something around the house. How ironic it is that this “beautiful mind” he possessed betrayed him in the last years. I had always thought I was smart until I saw Steve come up with unique ways of looking at problems and finding solutions. He proved himself as brilliant, not only in his schoolwork or in rigging up little inventions around the apartment or the house, but in other areas as well. We both liked puzzles like the Jumble. I would often be working on it and was normally pretty good. But I almost always had to write down the letters to get the answer. It always unnerved me a little when Steve would look at the Jumble over my shoulder. While I was writing combinations of letters down, hoping I would hit something familiar, Steve would in his head get all the words and the puzzle and then say, “That’s pretty cute.” We also have had a good time with the Car Talk puzzlers over the years. Steve had a wonderfully nimble mind.
Steve’s genius was confirmed in his idiosyncrasies. He was, in some ways, the “absent-minded professor.” One day while living on campus at Tech, he drove his old Mustang to the Student Center to pick up his mail. He got distracted talking to some folks and walked back to the dorm. The next morning he got up but couldn’t find his car—and it didn’t occur to him that it was at the Student Center. So, he called the police to report his car missing. He found it himself a few weeks later—happened to walk by it and finally remembered. Jim Haskell wonders why he would think the Mustang was stolen. Who would take it? This is the car that, when Steve would take a sharp left hand turn, the passenger door would fly wide open. Now, why didn’t he fix that? I think it was because it served a dual purpose on dates: if he liked the girl, it gave him an excuse to reach out and grab her. If he didn’t like her, well, it gave him an easy way to get rid of her.
Let me say one more thing about his brilliance. It went beyond mere computing power. Steve was brilliant because he knew his limits. One Saturday a bunch of us were at the old gym here at Second-Ponce, playing basketball. Steve was, as usual, playing in the middle, mixing it up with the other “big guys” while the little guys like me were staying safely outside. Apparently it got rather heated inside—a few elbows flew and words were exchanged. Finally Steve walked off the court and sat on the bench. He said, “I quit,” and nothing more. At first, some of us were thinking, “Come on, you’re a Christian; you can handle it. Without you we don’t have an even number of people.” I know, because those are the kinds of things we began to say to try to get him to come back and play. After a few moments of listening in silence, Steve finally spoke. “If I stay out there, I know I’m going to lose my cool. I don’t want to do that, so it’s better for me to take myself out and calm down over here.” We had thought Steve immature for quitting; his answer showed he was the one being mature. He knew that his limit had been reached. He knew the temptation that lay before him. He knew that God counsels us to get ourselves out of temptation’s way, to flee from it. He reminded me in that moment that many times we should remove ourselves from difficult circumstances instead of staying in them, that the “way of escape” often involves taking just the kind of action that Steve did that day.
Yes, Steve was brilliant, but not everybody knew that. That’s because he often kept it well-hidden behind a unique sense of humor. I know that others would have more colorful descriptions of his humor, but since I shared it in every way, I think unique will suffice.
This sense of humor is well illustrated in one of his famous escapades with Linn Acuff. In college days, they were headed to Florida for a vacation, and they were going to meet up with Cindy—Lin’s wife, who he was dating at the time—and some friends in Cedartown. Steve and Lin plotted an elaborate hoax. Lin was to pull up his car in a parking lot where he was to meet Cindy and her friends. Lin would step away from the car but leave the keys in the ignition. Steve, who would be let off a block early, would disguise himself by putting on an old wig they had found, run to the car, hop in, crank it up, and take off. Lin would give chase in Cindy’s car. The plan called for them to turn off on a county road. Steve would stop the car by the side of the road and flee. Lin would give chase and catch him. They would tumble out of sight. Finally, Lin would emerge alone back to the car filled with frightened girls. When they asked the inevitable, “What happened?” Lin was to raise the wig he had taken from Steve’s head during the fight and say, “I scalped him.” And it would have worked, too—except for one thing. An alert Cedartown citizen witnessed the car theft and notified police. So, instead of two cars in the ensuing chase, there were three—and one of them had lights and sirens.
Steve had a lot of humorous adventures in his life, but I think he went on these adventures, not as much for the adventures themselves as for their story value. Steve loved more than anything else to tell stories. And if they happened to be true, so much the better.
I met Steve 30 years ago. He was 22, and I was 18. He was, of course, already bald on top at that age. One day I made the mistake of asking him why he was bald so early in life. “You’ve never heard this story?” he asked. “Well, I use to smoke cigars, and one day I was reading the newspaper, and my cigar fell out of my mouth and caught the newspaper on fire, and my hair was burned off and never grew back.” I bit: “Why didn’t you throw the newspaper down and run?” Steve said, “Well, I couldn’t get out my crib.”
I wish I had time to explain and tell you the Dog Joke—but Steve never let me tell it. I had to supply the laughter so people would think there was something funny in it and wonder why they couldn’t get the joke. Of course, they would often laugh, pretending they got the joke that wasn’t there. Or to tell you about Steve’s game called, “Name a State” or to tell you the true facts of the time we saved a man from floating off into space that turned into another wonderful story or about the ceramic owl that Bill Hunkin once made me that our families have surreptitiously smuggled to one another over the years. I wanted to put it in the casket, but someone said, “You’d really be surprised to see how Steve would get it back to you, then, wouldn’t you?”
Steve was brilliant, yes. And he certainly possessed a unique sense of humor. But his life is even more defined by the loves of his life.
Steve was a man who loved his family. Becky, Steve had dated many girls before he dated you. But he knew quickly that you were the one with whom he wanted to spend his life. So he pursued you and caught you. And he has always been glad for that. In the last couple of years, as Steve’s behavior changed but we didn’t know why and there was frustration and Steve and I spent extra time together, he told me that he wanted to do anything that would make him the husband you wanted. He loved you so much.
Children, how he loved you! What a great concept he and your mother came up with that he would take a trip with each of you at age 10. I know that those of you who got to take the trip were blessed. Remember and cherish that time forever. For those who did not—just know that your dad wanted so much to share that time with you. And several of us have been inspired to do the same with our families. Getting a late start, I do it at age 13. In Elizabeth Musser’s e-mail in memory of Steve, which many of you have read and all of you should, she mentions how they too have been inspired by the example set by Steve for trips with the children. My, how he loved you. Let me encourage you, as you face life without the physical presence of you father, to draw even closer together as a family. As you have drawn together in his sickness, let that continue in the months and years ahead. Remember the words of the Scripture:
“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity.” You will honor your earthly father and your Heavenly Father as you put this into practice.
Steve not only loved his family.
Steve also loved the Lord Jesus and His church.
Yes, Steve loved Jesus, and he was what there are too few of in the world, in my estimation. He was an intellectual Christian. He didn’t just love Jesus with all his heart, all his soul, and all his strength. He loved him with all his mind. He liked to grapple with issues of faith. And he liked to help others grapple with those issues, too, whether it was through leading a Bible study or Sunday School class or simply engaging someone in conversation about the implications of what we say we believe. Steve didn’t want to have a faith that amounted to nothing more than window dressing. He possessed a faith that animated who he was and everything he did. He believed Jesus when He said, “I have come that you might have life, and might have it more abundantly.” Steve loved life. He loved his family. He loved His Lord. He loved this church and has been committed to her ministry through the past 30 years. And he died, by my reckoning, at least 30 years too soon.
When we learned of the Pick’s Disease, we didn’t know much about it. The one thing that we knew frightened us: it makes people less inhibited. Or, disinhibited, as Steve said it. Steve Norman, never possessing much inhibition to start with, was going to be less so? But we saw that happen. And many other things. We saw obsessions with washing and clothing and such things. I took him for a walk in the park near his house a few months back. He got tired and asked me to go get the van. When I got back, I couldn’t find him. I ran around asking people if they had seen a guy with a walker. No one had. I finally found him. In the park, there is a water treatment plant surrounded by a 6 foot iron fence and gate. I noticed Steve up in the air, straddling the top of the gate, with his walker hanging on the gate. He got it in his mind that he need to be on the other side of the gate and tried to climb over, but he couldn’t do it himself. And as I was taking him to a Tech game in the fall, as we were driving down Roswell Road near Buckhead, Steve kept unbuckling his seat belt and opening the car door as we were driving 40 miles an hour. And if I saw these things in my infrequent visits, how much more the family struggled day by day.
We knew that, barring a miracle, death would be the end result of this disease. It has come, and it has taken all of us by surprise at its suddenness. Death remains a great mystery. As Nurse Margaret Houlihan said in a M*A*S*H episode many years ago, “I’ve seen it many times, but I still don’t understand it. One minute you’re alive. The next minute you’re dead.” While all of us are sad and death is frightening to most of us, I think we will be able to say that in this case, death has come as a friend. None of us wanted to see Steve suffer and not be able to live the life he loved so much living. He has been spared that. But death cannot be a friend by removing physical suffering alone. Death can only be a friend when we are confident of what comes after death and that we see that as good. While none of us has been able to die and come back to report what it is like on the other side, we have One who has—our Lord Jesus Christ. And this One, who would never lie to us, even to make us feel better, said,
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” He also said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” [John 14.1-6; 11.25]
Death does not write the final chapter of life. Steve has a strong faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and he is there with Him today. And those of us who share that faith in Jesus Christ will see him again. How we look forward to that day.
Let me close by making one last observation. True to God’s promise that He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, I want to point out that there have been some hidden blessings that have come out of Steve’s illness. First, Becky, we have seen the body of Christ unite in a way that has been so encouraging to witness. While the body of Christ is often divided, we have seen the Spirit of God work in such a marvelous way as people have poured out their love to Steve and you, Becky, during this time. Your house is a tangible reminder of the strength and blessing of God. And, as funny as this may seem, there has even been a hidden blessing in the disinhibiting of Steve, at least to me personally. Several times in the past months, Steve has said, “Fred O., you’re my best friend.” And on one of my last times at the house as we sat around the kitchen table and I was rising to leave, Steve said something that I have long known but I had probably never heard. Steve looked up and said, “I love you, Fred O.”
I love you, too, Steve. We all do.
We also had some very special guests--the Normans, some of our best friends. Where we have five children, there are six in their family, and the first five in each of our families were born within a few months of each other. Of the children, the older two were not with us. Spencer, the oldest, directs a children's Christian camp in Indiana, if I have my facts straight. Catherine, the only girl among the gang, is on a summer mission trip to South Africa.
Those with us today, then, were the mom, Becky, and the four youngest boys: Willis (who just graduated from high school), David, Joel, and Charles. Also missing was the father, Steve, who has been my best friend since college. Steve would have loved to have been here. We would have had a lot of laughs if Steve had been able to join us. He would have regaled us with stories and jokes and commentary on life. Being the brilliant engineer, he might have helped us troubleshoot any problem we might be having. Steve couldn't be with us. He died of a rare brain disorder called Pick's disease three years ago at the age of 52.
I really wish Steve could have been here today, because it was an extra special day, and that started before lunch. I had the incredible privilege of baptizing Steve's four boys who were with us this morning. All of the Norman kids, just like the Norman parents, are followers of Jesus. They grew up in such a way that it has been a very natural step for each of them to make a decision to follow Jesus. Each has made that decision over the years, but for some reason, none of them had been baptized. While baptism is a symbol, it is a very important symbol. In fact, it is a commanded symbol. And the beauty of this symbol is unsurpassed. This simple symbol--lowering someone into the water and raising them back up again--communicates Christian truth on three levels:
1. It symbolizes the washing away of our sins. (My daughter Abigail earlier in life told me that she wanted to be "bath-tized," and I thought how funny that was; then it occured to me how close she really was! As we get cleaned up on the outside in a bath, baptism symbolizes how we get cleaned up on the inside!)
2. It tells the story of Jesus. When a person is lowered into the water, it symbolizes the death and burial of Jesus. The bringing of the person out of the water represents the resurrection of Jesus--how God raised Him from the dead. In baptism, the gospel is preached!
3. It tells the person's story. The Bible says we are "buried with Jesus in baptism" and "raised to walk in newness of life." Baptism tells onlookers that the person being baptized is changed. The old person has "passed away." Everything has "become new." The new person follows Jesus.
Several months ago, Becky began to talk to me about baptizing the boys. We finally decided that Father's Day would be a very appropriate time. When Jesus was baptized, a voice was heard from heaven saying, "This is my Son, whom I love. With him I am well pleased." I know that there was another father in heaven who likewise is well-pleased with the sons that he loves.
At least a dozen family members and friends of the Normans were at the service to share in this special time. Someone said it was a shame that Steve couldn't be there. I told the congregation that I wasn't sure what folks in heaven are and are not able to do regarding earth, but I asked God today to allow Steve to view our proceedings, and I have a sense that would be something the Father would be pleased to do. (I also shared with the folks at lunch that I also prayed that Steve would wait for me until he told everyone else the dog story...)
I am grateful for the time with Normans today, both in the service and at lunch. It made for a great Father's Day for us all.
For those who did not have the pleasure of knowing my friend Steve, I am including a portion of the remarks that I made at his funeral three years ago. I think it will give you a flavor of his uniqueness.
This is from the funeral of March 3, 2005, after his death on March 1:
Steve is the most brilliant person I have ever known. He could figure out and fix anything, whether it was schoolwork, or computers, or cars, or something around the house. How ironic it is that this “beautiful mind” he possessed betrayed him in the last years. I had always thought I was smart until I saw Steve come up with unique ways of looking at problems and finding solutions. He proved himself as brilliant, not only in his schoolwork or in rigging up little inventions around the apartment or the house, but in other areas as well. We both liked puzzles like the Jumble. I would often be working on it and was normally pretty good. But I almost always had to write down the letters to get the answer. It always unnerved me a little when Steve would look at the Jumble over my shoulder. While I was writing combinations of letters down, hoping I would hit something familiar, Steve would in his head get all the words and the puzzle and then say, “That’s pretty cute.” We also have had a good time with the Car Talk puzzlers over the years. Steve had a wonderfully nimble mind.
Steve’s genius was confirmed in his idiosyncrasies. He was, in some ways, the “absent-minded professor.” One day while living on campus at Tech, he drove his old Mustang to the Student Center to pick up his mail. He got distracted talking to some folks and walked back to the dorm. The next morning he got up but couldn’t find his car—and it didn’t occur to him that it was at the Student Center. So, he called the police to report his car missing. He found it himself a few weeks later—happened to walk by it and finally remembered. Jim Haskell wonders why he would think the Mustang was stolen. Who would take it? This is the car that, when Steve would take a sharp left hand turn, the passenger door would fly wide open. Now, why didn’t he fix that? I think it was because it served a dual purpose on dates: if he liked the girl, it gave him an excuse to reach out and grab her. If he didn’t like her, well, it gave him an easy way to get rid of her.
Let me say one more thing about his brilliance. It went beyond mere computing power. Steve was brilliant because he knew his limits. One Saturday a bunch of us were at the old gym here at Second-Ponce, playing basketball. Steve was, as usual, playing in the middle, mixing it up with the other “big guys” while the little guys like me were staying safely outside. Apparently it got rather heated inside—a few elbows flew and words were exchanged. Finally Steve walked off the court and sat on the bench. He said, “I quit,” and nothing more. At first, some of us were thinking, “Come on, you’re a Christian; you can handle it. Without you we don’t have an even number of people.” I know, because those are the kinds of things we began to say to try to get him to come back and play. After a few moments of listening in silence, Steve finally spoke. “If I stay out there, I know I’m going to lose my cool. I don’t want to do that, so it’s better for me to take myself out and calm down over here.” We had thought Steve immature for quitting; his answer showed he was the one being mature. He knew that his limit had been reached. He knew the temptation that lay before him. He knew that God counsels us to get ourselves out of temptation’s way, to flee from it. He reminded me in that moment that many times we should remove ourselves from difficult circumstances instead of staying in them, that the “way of escape” often involves taking just the kind of action that Steve did that day.
Yes, Steve was brilliant, but not everybody knew that. That’s because he often kept it well-hidden behind a unique sense of humor. I know that others would have more colorful descriptions of his humor, but since I shared it in every way, I think unique will suffice.
This sense of humor is well illustrated in one of his famous escapades with Linn Acuff. In college days, they were headed to Florida for a vacation, and they were going to meet up with Cindy—Lin’s wife, who he was dating at the time—and some friends in Cedartown. Steve and Lin plotted an elaborate hoax. Lin was to pull up his car in a parking lot where he was to meet Cindy and her friends. Lin would step away from the car but leave the keys in the ignition. Steve, who would be let off a block early, would disguise himself by putting on an old wig they had found, run to the car, hop in, crank it up, and take off. Lin would give chase in Cindy’s car. The plan called for them to turn off on a county road. Steve would stop the car by the side of the road and flee. Lin would give chase and catch him. They would tumble out of sight. Finally, Lin would emerge alone back to the car filled with frightened girls. When they asked the inevitable, “What happened?” Lin was to raise the wig he had taken from Steve’s head during the fight and say, “I scalped him.” And it would have worked, too—except for one thing. An alert Cedartown citizen witnessed the car theft and notified police. So, instead of two cars in the ensuing chase, there were three—and one of them had lights and sirens.
Steve had a lot of humorous adventures in his life, but I think he went on these adventures, not as much for the adventures themselves as for their story value. Steve loved more than anything else to tell stories. And if they happened to be true, so much the better.
I met Steve 30 years ago. He was 22, and I was 18. He was, of course, already bald on top at that age. One day I made the mistake of asking him why he was bald so early in life. “You’ve never heard this story?” he asked. “Well, I use to smoke cigars, and one day I was reading the newspaper, and my cigar fell out of my mouth and caught the newspaper on fire, and my hair was burned off and never grew back.” I bit: “Why didn’t you throw the newspaper down and run?” Steve said, “Well, I couldn’t get out my crib.”
I wish I had time to explain and tell you the Dog Joke—but Steve never let me tell it. I had to supply the laughter so people would think there was something funny in it and wonder why they couldn’t get the joke. Of course, they would often laugh, pretending they got the joke that wasn’t there. Or to tell you about Steve’s game called, “Name a State” or to tell you the true facts of the time we saved a man from floating off into space that turned into another wonderful story or about the ceramic owl that Bill Hunkin once made me that our families have surreptitiously smuggled to one another over the years. I wanted to put it in the casket, but someone said, “You’d really be surprised to see how Steve would get it back to you, then, wouldn’t you?”
Steve was brilliant, yes. And he certainly possessed a unique sense of humor. But his life is even more defined by the loves of his life.
Steve was a man who loved his family. Becky, Steve had dated many girls before he dated you. But he knew quickly that you were the one with whom he wanted to spend his life. So he pursued you and caught you. And he has always been glad for that. In the last couple of years, as Steve’s behavior changed but we didn’t know why and there was frustration and Steve and I spent extra time together, he told me that he wanted to do anything that would make him the husband you wanted. He loved you so much.
Children, how he loved you! What a great concept he and your mother came up with that he would take a trip with each of you at age 10. I know that those of you who got to take the trip were blessed. Remember and cherish that time forever. For those who did not—just know that your dad wanted so much to share that time with you. And several of us have been inspired to do the same with our families. Getting a late start, I do it at age 13. In Elizabeth Musser’s e-mail in memory of Steve, which many of you have read and all of you should, she mentions how they too have been inspired by the example set by Steve for trips with the children. My, how he loved you. Let me encourage you, as you face life without the physical presence of you father, to draw even closer together as a family. As you have drawn together in his sickness, let that continue in the months and years ahead. Remember the words of the Scripture:
“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity.” You will honor your earthly father and your Heavenly Father as you put this into practice.
Steve not only loved his family.
Steve also loved the Lord Jesus and His church.
Yes, Steve loved Jesus, and he was what there are too few of in the world, in my estimation. He was an intellectual Christian. He didn’t just love Jesus with all his heart, all his soul, and all his strength. He loved him with all his mind. He liked to grapple with issues of faith. And he liked to help others grapple with those issues, too, whether it was through leading a Bible study or Sunday School class or simply engaging someone in conversation about the implications of what we say we believe. Steve didn’t want to have a faith that amounted to nothing more than window dressing. He possessed a faith that animated who he was and everything he did. He believed Jesus when He said, “I have come that you might have life, and might have it more abundantly.” Steve loved life. He loved his family. He loved His Lord. He loved this church and has been committed to her ministry through the past 30 years. And he died, by my reckoning, at least 30 years too soon.
When we learned of the Pick’s Disease, we didn’t know much about it. The one thing that we knew frightened us: it makes people less inhibited. Or, disinhibited, as Steve said it. Steve Norman, never possessing much inhibition to start with, was going to be less so? But we saw that happen. And many other things. We saw obsessions with washing and clothing and such things. I took him for a walk in the park near his house a few months back. He got tired and asked me to go get the van. When I got back, I couldn’t find him. I ran around asking people if they had seen a guy with a walker. No one had. I finally found him. In the park, there is a water treatment plant surrounded by a 6 foot iron fence and gate. I noticed Steve up in the air, straddling the top of the gate, with his walker hanging on the gate. He got it in his mind that he need to be on the other side of the gate and tried to climb over, but he couldn’t do it himself. And as I was taking him to a Tech game in the fall, as we were driving down Roswell Road near Buckhead, Steve kept unbuckling his seat belt and opening the car door as we were driving 40 miles an hour. And if I saw these things in my infrequent visits, how much more the family struggled day by day.
We knew that, barring a miracle, death would be the end result of this disease. It has come, and it has taken all of us by surprise at its suddenness. Death remains a great mystery. As Nurse Margaret Houlihan said in a M*A*S*H episode many years ago, “I’ve seen it many times, but I still don’t understand it. One minute you’re alive. The next minute you’re dead.” While all of us are sad and death is frightening to most of us, I think we will be able to say that in this case, death has come as a friend. None of us wanted to see Steve suffer and not be able to live the life he loved so much living. He has been spared that. But death cannot be a friend by removing physical suffering alone. Death can only be a friend when we are confident of what comes after death and that we see that as good. While none of us has been able to die and come back to report what it is like on the other side, we have One who has—our Lord Jesus Christ. And this One, who would never lie to us, even to make us feel better, said,
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” He also said, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” [John 14.1-6; 11.25]
Death does not write the final chapter of life. Steve has a strong faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and he is there with Him today. And those of us who share that faith in Jesus Christ will see him again. How we look forward to that day.
Let me close by making one last observation. True to God’s promise that He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purpose, I want to point out that there have been some hidden blessings that have come out of Steve’s illness. First, Becky, we have seen the body of Christ unite in a way that has been so encouraging to witness. While the body of Christ is often divided, we have seen the Spirit of God work in such a marvelous way as people have poured out their love to Steve and you, Becky, during this time. Your house is a tangible reminder of the strength and blessing of God. And, as funny as this may seem, there has even been a hidden blessing in the disinhibiting of Steve, at least to me personally. Several times in the past months, Steve has said, “Fred O., you’re my best friend.” And on one of my last times at the house as we sat around the kitchen table and I was rising to leave, Steve said something that I have long known but I had probably never heard. Steve looked up and said, “I love you, Fred O.”
I love you, too, Steve. We all do.
Friday, June 13, 2008
A Father's Reflections
King David wrote many words that have ministered to the souls of countless people over the centuries--some of my favorites are found in Psalm 1, 19, 23, 32, 51, and 103, to name a few off the top of my head--but one phrase that has come to mean more and more to me in the past few months is a simple verse that resonates deeply in my soul because I have come to realize just how closely I identify with it. It comes from Psalm 16:
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I can imagine David looking out from his palace, knowing that he was king of all that his eyes could survey--and more--and becoming overcome with gratitude as he thought back to how he had been blessed by God as he considered his beginnings as a simple shepherd boy.
While I don't possess silver or gold nor will I ever know what it is like to be the leader of great multitudes, still I share with David the sentiment, when I pause to consider my half century sojourn here: "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places."
I look back over the 27 years Cindy and I have been married and the way she has always been such an enhancement to my life and ministry. I think of the dreams she was willing to put aside to become a pastor's wife and the stay-at-home mother of five children. When I think of all of the volunteer work that she has put in at the churches where I have pastored and the credit I have received for her work, I can only say, "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places."
When I think of the five beautiful children God has given us and the life we have lived, I am truly blessed. Making the decision to home school our children helped give our family more time together than we would have otherwise had. Thinking back to Fridays--when I was off from work and we could do projects or go on "field trips"--a multitude of memories flood my mind and warm my heart. Likewise, I can still hear in my memory today the giggles of girls hiding from their father at lunchtime and the plea to "sleep with me for one mo mo minute"; I can recall the delight of reading books at night and saying good night prayers. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
Just weeks ago we went on our usual trek to St. Augustine for vacation. The whole family was there--the seven of us plus our wonderful son-in-law and Cindy's always generous parents. For some, ten family members together for an entire week is a recipe for disaster; for us, it was a delightful time of rest and relaxation. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
As Father's Day approaches, I cannot but be moved again by the love and devotion of these five--er, six--Hannah, Lydia, Abigail, Rebekah, Fred O, and son-in-law, Rick. Hannah never lets a Sunday go by without telling me how much she enjoyed my sermon. (So, yes, there are times when a "little white lie" is appreciated, though she is adamant that she is telling the truth.) Just this past week, her husband Rick called me to ask how I might answer someone who asked certain questions about faith in God. He is a serious and growing Christian. Lydia continues to mature and plans to attend seminary when she completes her final year of college. She often engages me, too, in discussions about faith. Abigail still confides in me what is going on in her life and asks for my counsel about many different areas of life. Rebekah has such patience with me even though she is 17 and doesn't have a car of her own to drive. She is very respectful, even when I say no to a request. Fred O still will hang out with me and doesn't mind telling me he loves me even when others are around--and he turned 15 this year. These are just small tidbits of what I could write about my family. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
Although I may some days wish that I had more to provide for my children, I truly believe that faith in Jesus is the most important thing to give them. As I pastor, I have taught it to others. As a dad, together with Mom, we have let it be more than religious talk. As I have said before, I can say again, for it is still true today--and I hope it will continue--all of my children today are walking with and following Jesus. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
While I hope that one day I will have something to leave to my children, the truth is, they are already an inheritance to me that I enjoy every day of my life.
Yes, David spoke for me when he praised the Lord. I could not improve on it at all:
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I praise the Lord for His wonderful blessing to me, particularly this wonderful family!
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I can imagine David looking out from his palace, knowing that he was king of all that his eyes could survey--and more--and becoming overcome with gratitude as he thought back to how he had been blessed by God as he considered his beginnings as a simple shepherd boy.
While I don't possess silver or gold nor will I ever know what it is like to be the leader of great multitudes, still I share with David the sentiment, when I pause to consider my half century sojourn here: "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places."
I look back over the 27 years Cindy and I have been married and the way she has always been such an enhancement to my life and ministry. I think of the dreams she was willing to put aside to become a pastor's wife and the stay-at-home mother of five children. When I think of all of the volunteer work that she has put in at the churches where I have pastored and the credit I have received for her work, I can only say, "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places."
When I think of the five beautiful children God has given us and the life we have lived, I am truly blessed. Making the decision to home school our children helped give our family more time together than we would have otherwise had. Thinking back to Fridays--when I was off from work and we could do projects or go on "field trips"--a multitude of memories flood my mind and warm my heart. Likewise, I can still hear in my memory today the giggles of girls hiding from their father at lunchtime and the plea to "sleep with me for one mo mo minute"; I can recall the delight of reading books at night and saying good night prayers. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
Just weeks ago we went on our usual trek to St. Augustine for vacation. The whole family was there--the seven of us plus our wonderful son-in-law and Cindy's always generous parents. For some, ten family members together for an entire week is a recipe for disaster; for us, it was a delightful time of rest and relaxation. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
As Father's Day approaches, I cannot but be moved again by the love and devotion of these five--er, six--Hannah, Lydia, Abigail, Rebekah, Fred O, and son-in-law, Rick. Hannah never lets a Sunday go by without telling me how much she enjoyed my sermon. (So, yes, there are times when a "little white lie" is appreciated, though she is adamant that she is telling the truth.) Just this past week, her husband Rick called me to ask how I might answer someone who asked certain questions about faith in God. He is a serious and growing Christian. Lydia continues to mature and plans to attend seminary when she completes her final year of college. She often engages me, too, in discussions about faith. Abigail still confides in me what is going on in her life and asks for my counsel about many different areas of life. Rebekah has such patience with me even though she is 17 and doesn't have a car of her own to drive. She is very respectful, even when I say no to a request. Fred O still will hang out with me and doesn't mind telling me he loves me even when others are around--and he turned 15 this year. These are just small tidbits of what I could write about my family. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
Although I may some days wish that I had more to provide for my children, I truly believe that faith in Jesus is the most important thing to give them. As I pastor, I have taught it to others. As a dad, together with Mom, we have let it be more than religious talk. As I have said before, I can say again, for it is still true today--and I hope it will continue--all of my children today are walking with and following Jesus. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.
While I hope that one day I will have something to leave to my children, the truth is, they are already an inheritance to me that I enjoy every day of my life.
Yes, David spoke for me when he praised the Lord. I could not improve on it at all:
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
Surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I praise the Lord for His wonderful blessing to me, particularly this wonderful family!
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Uganda Update 2
At this writing, it is just after 4 p.m. on Saturday afternoon in Uganda. This was the last day of the conference, and we only taught until lunch. After lunch, we helped present certificates of attendance to all those who attended--both pastors and wives--and I think it ended up being about 190. (James and I had to sign each one of them!) Of course, the certificates were the idea of the Executive Committee of the Joint Ministries of Uganda, the group that we have been working with the past three trips. Since most of these pastors have had no formal training, the certificate of attendance means a lot to them.
Many pastors have shared with us how much they have appreciated the ministry--as well as the housing and the food. As stated earlier (I think), we have tried to do a combination of practical and theological messages, and while both are needed, it is the practical which many of these seem so starved for. (Though, again, some of the questions submitted showed that we were absolutely correct to address some basic doctrinal truths.)
The pastors here are very gracious to us, and we only can hope and believe that what they say to us is true. After each trip, I implore the leaders to tell us what is helpful and what is not, and I encourage them to be truthful. Still, I know it would be hard for them, so I say, "Tell me what would be better and more helpful for pastors next time we come." Even so, they always have affirmed what we have done. This year as we planned the conference, I did ask for suggestions of what they felt would be helpful, and upon receiving some, I sent a list of suggested or possible sessions back to them. I think this helped us to hit on a variety of subjects and help these pastors with them.
One of the messages they especially asked for was "A Healthy Church." In it, since the church is called in the Bible both the "body of Christ" and the "bride of Christ," I use those images to paint for them a picture of a healthy church that is (hopefully) simple, easy to remember, and helpful. After sharing that with them near the beginning of our time, it showed that it did indeed hit a chord with them. To help them remember, I would stop often as we went through it, and we would go through the parts of the body we used.
I had also preached this in our own church the Sunday before I left, so the list was the same though the sharing of it was somewhat different. We shared that a healthy church needs the following:
Many pastors have shared with us how much they have appreciated the ministry--as well as the housing and the food. As stated earlier (I think), we have tried to do a combination of practical and theological messages, and while both are needed, it is the practical which many of these seem so starved for. (Though, again, some of the questions submitted showed that we were absolutely correct to address some basic doctrinal truths.)
The pastors here are very gracious to us, and we only can hope and believe that what they say to us is true. After each trip, I implore the leaders to tell us what is helpful and what is not, and I encourage them to be truthful. Still, I know it would be hard for them, so I say, "Tell me what would be better and more helpful for pastors next time we come." Even so, they always have affirmed what we have done. This year as we planned the conference, I did ask for suggestions of what they felt would be helpful, and upon receiving some, I sent a list of suggested or possible sessions back to them. I think this helped us to hit on a variety of subjects and help these pastors with them.
One of the messages they especially asked for was "A Healthy Church." In it, since the church is called in the Bible both the "body of Christ" and the "bride of Christ," I use those images to paint for them a picture of a healthy church that is (hopefully) simple, easy to remember, and helpful. After sharing that with them near the beginning of our time, it showed that it did indeed hit a chord with them. To help them remember, I would stop often as we went through it, and we would go through the parts of the body we used.
I had also preached this in our own church the Sunday before I left, so the list was the same though the sharing of it was somewhat different. We shared that a healthy church needs the following:
- A godly head (and vision)--and that is Jesus, who is the head of the church
- A loving heart--love for God and others as the Great Commandments state
- Serving hands--ministries to assist those within and without
- Proper nutrition--the word of God on a regular basis
- Calloused knees--in other words, a praying church
- Beautiful feet--evangelism and missions ("how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news")
- Healthy children--as the bride of Christ, Jesus and the church will reproduce more churches
- Vital relationships--both within and without (in other words, for "within," the members of the body have to be coordinated, going in the same direction, and for "without," every "body" needs to interact with other bodies, so we speak of the need for churches to work together to accomplish what they cannot do alone)
We built on that and spoke much about the individual parts of this. We also spoke of "healthy Christians" and the certificates ended up saying, "Healthy pastors for healthy churches."
But the marriage and family messages hit home as well. Over one third of the questions submitted were on the subject, including divorce. So instead of answering the questions one by one, yesterday I simply did another hour plus session (remember, that includes translation time!) on such issues, letting them know that God had a word for them whether single, married, divorced but not remarried, and divorced and already remarried. I also had to include some of the other questions asked.
Again, many people spoke to me about how this had helped. One man told me today that he had been so busy with the conference that he was too tired for his kids when he got home; the message, he said, "challenged" him. Today, he brought a son to the conference with him!
Most touching of all regarding this subject, though, was was a twenty year old girl named Sarah who came up to me today right before we left. I had not met her previously. Exactly why she was at the conference I wasn't sure--I'm not sure if her father was a pastor or what--but she came to me and just began to thank me. She said her mother was in process of divorcing her father, and she had felt very badly about it, but she didn't really know what the Bible said about it--nor did her parents! She said every question she had was answered, and she had talked to her father (or else he was there--couldn't quite understand), and they had been given new hope and they believed because they had a clear word from God that He would bring the family back together again. She spoke to me several minutes and was so thankful--the whole trip was worth that episode.
Many are asking about our coming back again. It's a bit early to think of that. But we always try to be open to whatever the Father may have for us.
We are looking forward to being home soon!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Uganda Update 1
Pastor James Sapp and I are in Uganda right now, conducting a conference for pastors and their wives near Jinja, the second largest city. This is my fifth trip to Uganda and the third for James. We arrived late Sunday night Uganda time and began our work the next day.
Last time, we taught through the letter of First Thessalonians to a group that included pastors and lay leaders. Since we only have pastors and wives this time, we are more focused on sharin g with pastors.
The kinds of messages we have delivered have been a mixture of both practical and doctrinal issues:
We are about to go out for our Friday conference. We will each preach only once today and then answer questions in the afternoon. Today I will be speaking about Stewardship, which is a much needed topic. James will speak about the role of the pastor in the community.
This afternoon's Q and A will be interesting, to say the least. We have already received the questions and they have a lot about marriage and divorce and polygamy and "family planning," so it is going to be a really hard time trying to go through all these kinds of things--even more difficult when you have to have things translated for most of the people. One pastor wants to know if he can divorce his wife because she hasn't provided him any children! There are other questions more concerning pastoring itself, of course.
Tomorrow (Saturday) will be our last day for the conference, and we will speak about how the gospel can change Uganda and close with a message on the pastor's heart.
On Sunday we will preach in some area churches.
It is good to hear the comments of those who are attending. They are very grateful for our presence and our teaching--and for the generosity of the church for sending us and providing food and other things for them while they are here.
Please continue to pray for us. We are scheduled to be back next Wednesdat, January 23.
God bless,
Fred
Last time, we taught through the letter of First Thessalonians to a group that included pastors and lay leaders. Since we only have pastors and wives this time, we are more focused on sharin g with pastors.
The kinds of messages we have delivered have been a mixture of both practical and doctrinal issues:
- The Call to Being a Pastor
- How to Read and Study the Bible
- Developing Leaders in the Church
- A Description of a Healthy Church
- A Description of a Healthy Christian
- The Trinity: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit
- The Great Commission: Multiplying Believers and Churches
- Salvation
- Marriage
- Family
- The Tasks of a Pastor
- How to Preach a Sermon
- How to Comfort in Times of Grief
- A Christian Funeral
We are about to go out for our Friday conference. We will each preach only once today and then answer questions in the afternoon. Today I will be speaking about Stewardship, which is a much needed topic. James will speak about the role of the pastor in the community.
This afternoon's Q and A will be interesting, to say the least. We have already received the questions and they have a lot about marriage and divorce and polygamy and "family planning," so it is going to be a really hard time trying to go through all these kinds of things--even more difficult when you have to have things translated for most of the people. One pastor wants to know if he can divorce his wife because she hasn't provided him any children! There are other questions more concerning pastoring itself, of course.
Tomorrow (Saturday) will be our last day for the conference, and we will speak about how the gospel can change Uganda and close with a message on the pastor's heart.
On Sunday we will preach in some area churches.
It is good to hear the comments of those who are attending. They are very grateful for our presence and our teaching--and for the generosity of the church for sending us and providing food and other things for them while they are here.
Please continue to pray for us. We are scheduled to be back next Wednesdat, January 23.
God bless,
Fred
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