PreacherMike

I’m on a dessert binge.

This is a place where I think I could blame my father, one of the world’s great dessert eaters, or my mother and paternal grandmother, two of the world’s great dessert makers. Of course, I’m not a blamer. I just think it should be mentioned.

I’m not a respecter of desserts. I pretty much love them all. Yes, yes, chocolate, of course. But it goes way beyond that. I like blueberry pies (my all-time fav), blackberry pies, apple pies (and my wife makes the world’s best), rhubarb pies (it’s been a while), anything with the word “cobbler” in it, strawberry shortcake, lemon meringue pies, coconut cream pies, chocolate meringue pies, cake (our philosophy: why bake cakes when McKay’s does it so well?), chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal cookies, butterscotch cookies, peanut butter cookies, and a various assortment of candy bars. I’m not a big ice cream person unless it’s homemade. That takes me back to childhood of taking my turn at cranking the ice cream maker. (Now you just plug them in!)

The key here isn’t abstinence. I gave up desserts one year for Lent–seriously. I wound up resenting Lent and being glad for my Church of Christ roots. The movie “Chocolat” comes to mind here.

Moderation is such a great word, isn’t it? There’s always a temptation to present options of binging or abstaining. Some Christians get carried away with lust, so we decide all dancing is wrong. Some people have drinking problems, so we decide a glass of wine is taboo.

It’s time for breakfast. My daily assortment of “Good Friends” and “Fiber One” cereal with a sprinkling of almonds and blueberrys. (Sometimes a side of salmon, but I figured you wouldn’t want to know that. Not everyone is a breakfast salmon person.)

The dessert itch doesn’t begin until mid-afternoon.

Now — how about you? What’s in your Dessert Hall of Fame?

I still haven’t seen “Friday Night Lights” even though the central character, Gary Gaines, is a Highland member–and, as I’ve blogged before, a really good man. (Anyone seen it? Is it good?)

But I have to say this: I really do love Friday nights under the lights at Shotwell stadium. The last two weeks, the place has been full (15,000-17,000). Last night AHS played Midland Lee for the district championship. Of course, I loved that Abilene High won, extending their record to 10-0 and giving them an outright district championship for the first time in a gazillion years. But even beyond that, it’s just the experience of West Texas high school football. And especially West Texas football in November when it’s cool and crisp–as football weather ought to be.

Not living around family has NOT been my first choice. With three years of graduate school in Memphis, a couple years of preaching in North Carolina, seven years in Arkansas, and thirteen-plus years in Texas, I have missed being around my family.

I’m so envious of families who raise their children around grandparents, uncles and aunts, and cousins. For two years in Searcy, one of my little sisters and one of Diane’s little sisters were students at Harding. So Matt and Megan had aunts (and one little cousin) around. Not just aunts. But cool, college-age aunts. And for the the past two years another of Diane’s sisters, my brother-in-law, and three nieces have lived here.

On our end, we’ve tried to bridge the gap. Every other year we’ve alternated Ohio (McKee) and Missouri (Copes) Christmases. On the Ohio Christmas years, we’ve usually driven to Missouri (that’s Miz-ur-uh) for Thanksgiving.

And my parents have been wonderful. Who knows how many trips they’ve made to pinch-hit as babysitters or to see graduations, soccer games, baseball games, basketball games, and football games. Matt’s senior year when AHS made it to the state quarterfinals, they came to two regular season games and all four (!) post-season games. Four straight weekends they drove from MO to Lubbock (twice) or Texas Stadium (twice).

My youngest sister, now a teacher in AR, is a reliable e-mailer. My brother, a newspaper publisher (and executive for a newspaper chain), and I go through spurts of e-mail flurries. We know we’re always there for each other.

I know it hasn’t been easy from my parents’ end: having their grandchildren carted around from NC to AR to TX. But they have called, sent cards and photos, remembered every Christmas/birthday/Halloween/Easter, and visited often. While Megan was alive, they kept the kids a week every year. Trust me: keeping Megan for a week was a joy. But it wasn’t easy. One year they kept her for ten days. When we returned, my very loving-but-haggard mother hugged us and said, “I think I’m a seven-day grandma.” (A story lives on in our family of the day Megan wore my mom out during that ten-day stint. She called a good friend and told her that if she’d come keep Megan for half an hour she’d pay her $100,000,000.) I can’t tell you what those weeks meant to our marriage, since life with Megan rarely gave us restful time together.

It’s not that we planned it this way. As Robert Frost said, “Way leads to way.” We took one road and then another and then another. And now our folks are in their late sixties, and we’re wishing we’d had more time together through the years.

Would love to be an uncle-in-residence to Crista, Van, Tatum, Kari, Madison, and Hunter (from my side — not counting, of course, my buddy Jantsen, my brother’s son, who died in 1999), and Daniel, Caleb, Hannah, Benjamin, Joshua, Darrin, Abby, Brady (from Diane’s side — along with Sarah, Rebekah, and Elizabeth who live here).

Probably many of you are separated from family. I hope you’re working at it as hard as my parents have to stay in touch.

My life has been blessed by knowing Larry James. Larry graduated from Harding a little before I got there, but we connected in the mid-80s when I was preaching in Searcy and he was preaching in Dallas at the East Richardson Church of Christ. For the last several years Larry has been the Executive Director of Central Dallas Ministries.

I know of no one . . . no one . . . who has inspired me more to follow the way of Christ in addressing the needs of those without a voice. It’s so easy for me to be wrapped up into my white, middle-class world and to forget the suffering poor of the world who tend to be hidden all around me.

Here’s something Larry wrote that just won’t leave me. If he seems a bit angry, you’ll have to excuse him. I think it has something to do with the fact that he’s pouring out his life in the trenches for the Lazaruses of the world who remain outside, ignored, stereotyped, and unfed.

While it is certainly true that the particular issues associated with injustice in this culture may leave much room for debate, compromise and new agreements and partnerships leading to various solutions, the bedrock theological values clearly and consistently espoused by the witness of Scripture and a significant and influential slice of Christian history refuses to let one comfortably “off the hook” so to speak! Whether one turns to the Law of Moses, the wisdom literature of Israel, the books of history or the prophets, throughout the Hebrew bible one is confronted again and again with the clear outlines of what a just, compassionate and true community culture would look and function like.

Approaching the life of Jesus, the message becomes even clearer. For the sake of this reflection there seems to be no need to rehearse the long list of texts that address this divine mandate. The Messiahship of Jesus is largely defined by a radical, demanding commitment to the values of the Jubilee Year (Luke 4:14ff). Whether one considers the basis of eternal judgment as defined by Jesus (Matthew 25:31-46; Luke 16:19ff) or the consistency of his rabbinic teaching (scan the entire book of Luke!), it is very clear that the issues of compassion, fairness, adequate provision and justice filled his agenda. The early church definitely got this point (Acts 2, 4; James; Paul’s work on behalf of the poor in Jerusalem; et al).

Taking its cue from these sacred texts the history of the church is replete with advocates, reformers and community developers who press hard against the various forces of injustice within society and at times within the church itself. God’s messengers throughout history have understood the connections between the revelation of God and the reality of life for the poor, the oppressed and the marginalized.

Two undeniable aspects of this struggle for me involve the opportunities presented by life in a post-modern democratic society and the drifting irrelevance of the church, as we know it.

Freedom and the democratic opportunity to craft a truly compassionate community/societal response beyond sound bit rhetoric to pressing contemporary challenges (such as poverty, access to and disparities around health and wellness, livable wages and the results of inadequate skills for marketplace realities, child care, affordable housing and homelessness) hold out great hope and almost endless possibilities. Yet, we are failing miserably in each of these areas. The powerful engines of freedom, choice and democracy currently serve the rich, the healthy and those with access to wellness methodologies, the fully employed, the secure families and the well-housed to the obvious neglect of those left far, far behind.

In a world of opportunity, now plagued by freedom’s failures, the church is largely silent as it stands mute like a shallow wading pool reflecting the values of a democratic society that systematically crushes the poor and the marginalized while waving the flags of a rabid patriotism. Ironically, at a time when the church’s influence appears to be growing in the public square (even if its membership is declining in real numbers), its prophetic, practical voice comes off muted and shrill. Where is the prophetic word today from the pulpits of Dallas? Who is there to speak a clear word of undeniable truth to power today in a state whose 78th legislature pillaged the poor of the few remaining benefits they could take advantage of? Is there a place for repentance, for fasting beyond the gimmicks of the latest spiritual growth regimen? Where is the biblical understanding that would drive a truly discipled people to their knees because of the suffering of the poor, the imprisoned, the naked, the sick and the stranger? Where are the prophets who would boldly challenge the court of American Royalty?

Today democracy and religion engage in a bizarre dance. The dance hall is brightly lighted. Smoke and mirrors complement the environment to cover a reality that is just out of view by design. The clerics dance with the one who invited them in hopes of securing new funds while creating a truly Christian nation to the glory of God! All the while the numbers of the dispossessed grow. The suffering continues. Important subjects such as programmatic scale in the face of the overwhelming numbers or the efficiency of comprehensive public policy strategies never arises in any of the significant conversations and, thus, is never achieved. The night of celebration ends in prayer and everyone returns home full, honored and satisfied . . . except for Lazarus who remains unseen outside the gate.

Good words from Rubel Shelly in this week’s “Fax of Life” that might be useful on this eve of the election.

There has to be more to this story than made the papers. No charges were filed. The official report simply called it “accidental.” But the consequences were quite serious – and could have been deadly.

A resident of Confluence, Pennsylvania, saw a mouse. Since most of us don’t like mice inside our residences, he took action. Instead of setting a trap, however, he got a pistol! Maybe he’s a marksman. Maybe he just really hates rodents. But it turns out that he soon had cause to regret his decision.

The 43-year-old man raised his weapon and fired. He missed the mouse but not his girlfriend! The bullet hit her in the arm and put her in Somerset Hospital. The day after the shooting, she was in fair condition. And state police who investigated the incident issued a statement encouraging people not to shoot guns indoors. I’d say that was a minimal lesson to be learned.

It sounds like a real-life illustration of our tendency to overreact to things. To go to extremes. To do disproportionate damage in responding to people and events. Remember this old adage against extreme responses: “It’s like swatting the fly on your friend’s forehead with a hatchet”? This is the new version!

When the 2004 presidential election ends this week, what will be the aftermath of all the strident rhetoric? “We’ve come to expect it!” you say? Then shame on us. Honest disagreement is one thing. Verbal assault is another.

Wonder how many people who’ve never had a flu shot before are in a panic this year because of the much-publicized shortage of vaccine?

Ever watch a particular stock or some company’s viability ride the up-and- down frenzy of rumors that have hit the street?

Did you ever lose a valuable friendship because he or you – or the both of you – misread a situation and hit the roof?

Ever hear of a parent who went way over the line to discipline a child and wound up guilty of child abuse?”

Like a city breached, without walls, is one who lacks self-control” says Proverbs 25:28. Indeed, the person who wants to make a difference in this world must first learn self-mastery. Appetite, tongue, passion, weaponry – in the absence of self-discipline, otherwise useful things become incredibly destructive.

Responses appropriate to a situation are one thing. “Tom & Jerry Cartoon” scripts acted out in the real world make for absurd headlines and bad outcomes.