Archive for May, 2005

The Last Kid in America to See “Sith”

Published
by
Mike
on May 19, 2005
in family and movies
. 23 Comments

I’m a bad parent. We still haven’t seen “Return of the Sith.”

Yes, we could have gone to the 12:02 showing, the 12:10 showing, or the 12:20 showing early this morning, but that tends to be when I like to sleep. If there had been a 4:04 showing, I would gladly have taken Chris.

“You have school on Thursday. You can’t go without sleep. You already have a hard time sleeping with the brace on.” All good points. None seem to matter.

It made it worse that I accidentally let it slip that Caroline and Holton (who are like an older sister and brother to him) had invited him to go with them. I didn’t even have to take him. He could have slummed a ride with them.

But there’s still that school thing.

We do have tickets for 4:50 tomorrow afternoon. But that’s like A WHOLE GALAXY AWAY. He’ll probably be the last kid in America to get to see it. :)

So did anyone out there go to the midnight showing? Don’t spill anything significant. But was it good? Does Yoda kick some serious sith butt? Does Leia have the cool hair even as a little girl? Do all wookies speak like Chewbacca? Inquiring minds want to know.

Give Me the Old Songs. And the New Ones

Published
by
Mike
on May 18, 2005
in Church and music
. 39 Comments

For me, there is no either/or with old hymns or contemporary songs.

It isn’t like everything I sang growing up was of the “Be Thou My Vision” quality. I’ve had quite enough of “You Never Mentioned Him to Me” (with those wonderful lyrics “you taught me not the light to see”–basically a guilt-inducing hymn about all the people you failed to teach the gospel and who are paying for your failures at judgment day), “Toiling On,” and “Each Day I’ll Do a Golden Deed.”

And I certainly don’t think all of the newer songs are shallow. Like in every generation, the best will live on (we’ll be singing “In Christ Alone,” “Here I Am to Worship,” and “Wonderful, Merciful Savior” fifty years from now–I hope) while others will fall to the wayside. That’s just the way it is.

AND YET . . . we just can’t let go of the best hymns. I want future generations to be nurtured by “Blessed Assurance,” “My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less,” and “Rock of Ages” — songs that taught me things about the gospel I wasn’t hearing from preaching or teaching as an adolescent. I want them to be encouraged by the depth of faith expressed in “God Moves in a Mysterious Way,” “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” (”I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain, that morn shall tearless be”), “When Peace Like a River,” and “Be Still My Soul.” And I want them to be able to join in the generations who have stood in awe before a holy, mighty God singing “On Zion’s Glorious Summit,” “Holy, Holy, Holy,” “How Great Thou Art,” and “O Lord, Our Lord.”

Give me the old. And the new.

My Treasure Thou Art

Published
by
Mike
on May 17, 2005
in music
. 23 Comments

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Nought be all else to me, save that Thou art;
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always;
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
Great God of heaven, my treasure Thou art.

Be Thou my wisdom, and Thou my true word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

Senior Sunday

Published
by
Mike
on May 16, 2005
in Church and Highland
. 10 Comments

Yesterday was “Senior Sunday” at Highland as we recognized and challenged our 48 high school seniors. A few thoughts:

1. Years ago as we called off their names, we listed all their honors from high school. I never liked that. Some kids had lots of things to mention; others didn’t. But why should church be a place where once again someone without all the honors feels left out? Now, we don’t even mention those. We’re proud of all such honors, and hopefully people have told them so through the years. But on Senior Sunday we tell how they each responded to two questions: Who at Highland has had a profound impact on your faith? What are your favorite memories in the youth group?

2. For almost every senior, something is mentioned about trips. I’d say the majority say, “My favorite part of being in the youth group was going to Mexico.” “Faith cometh by hearing” (Rom. 10:17, KJV)? Well, that’s true. But faith also cometh by doing — by participating in the work of God in this world! You might think they’d talk about ski trips or camping trips. Both are wonderful. But it’s the time when they go work in the hot sun to build a church building and when they encounter genuine poverty that they remember.

3. I kept hearing the name of Marti O’Rear come up. All those years later (they left her children’s ministry seven years earlier!), and they still remember how this amazing woman nurtured their faith–especially in the musicals.

4. Senior-after-senior kept mentioning how Sarah, who only became a full-time youth minister in January, had helped lead them to faith. And someone pointed out that she’d been with them since they were in sixth grade (as an intern). Was she fourteen at the time? (Sheesh, I’m getting old.)

5. I love seeing our huddle leaders up there hugging every senior as they receive their Bible. What a privilege for these students to have been mentored by three such godly, fun couples. But you know what? Try to thank them, and they’ll all tell you this: “Hey, we got more out of it than we gave.” There is a certain “perk” to being a huddle leader: Your own children have older mentors who are almost part of the family. One of the things you pray for as a parent is for older role models, and this way it’s almost guaranteed.

6. I love this Sunday each year. It reminds me how important community is. It reminds me how every lesson taught, every card of encouragement sent, every word spoken in the atrium, every sermon preached matters!

7. My favorite moment was when Jim read one young man’s response to “my favorite memory at Highland.” I’ve known him since he was four, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. But his favorite memory has been timing the prayers of the elders each week to see who prays the longest. I just didn’t see that one coming. And I could hardly bring myself under control. Precious memories come in many different forms.

In Good Company

Published
by
Mike
on May 14, 2005
in Church, family and movies
. 13 Comments

To fill a braindead evening recently, Diane and I watched “In Good Company.” (As always, please refer to screenit.com to make decisions about whether you want to watch a movie or not.) While it isn’t a great movie, it’s more than we thought.

Based on the commercials we’d seen, we thought it was primarily a comedy about a young executive falling in love with the college-age daughter of one of the men working under him–a man twice his age whose place he took at the top of the firm.

But it isn’t really about the young exec (Topher Grace) and the student (Scarlett Johansson). It’s about how this high-octane, 26-year-old man who was never really parented winds up being fathered by this older man (Dennis Quaid). There’s a scene where Quaid hugs him that is the highlight of the movie.

Everyone needs to be fathered (and mothered). For many, this doesn’t happen with their biological dad. Some never knew their dads; others rarely saw them; and still others had dads who themselves hadn’t been fathered and didn’t have much to give.

But there are other older men who can provide some of this fathering — even later in life. I’m thinking especially of godly men who can model respect, responsibility, and faith. Men who teach school, coach little league, volunteer for the band trips, teach the high school class at church, work with the Scouts, etc.

As I sneak up on 50 (in fourteen months and eleven days!), I realize that there are younger men all around who need affirmation, encouragement, and guidance.

I think you can’t go around volunteering to be someone’s “other dad” or “other mom,” but when the opportunity is there you’ll know it.

It’s an amazing thing, but one hug, one note, one word of encouragement can change a life. To receive a blessing from an older man or woman is a great gift.

In the movie, the young exec realizes that he is on the fast track to emptiness. But he sees in this older man a person who is grounded, a man who deeply loves his family and is loyal to friends. By the end of the film, you realize it wasn’t the beautiful blonde he needed in his life. It was her father.

So blessings on you this weekend — those of you who have become like moms and dads or like grandmas and grandpas in the lives of others.

McLaren on Restorationists

Published
by
Mike
on May 13, 2005
in Church of Christ
. 16 Comments

As you continue responding to Leroy Garrett’s wonderful piece I put on the blog yesterday, I thought I’d ad these words from McLaren’s A GENEROUS ORTHODOXY:

“One of the most fascinating and vigorous sectors of protesting Protestantism has been ‘restorationism’ — a belief held by a succession of groups through church history that, by finally getting the last or lost detail right, they now represent a full-fledged restoration of “New Testament Christianity.’

“Having been raised in one such group, and having spent a lot of time with many wonderful people in other restorationist groups as well, I can tell you this: if you are part of a restorationist group, the group dynamics of your group will be nearly identical to those of every other restorationist group. Change the details — mode or meaning of baptism, church structure, administrivia of worship or piety . . . , doctrinal fine print (a unique interpretation of at least one verse from Revelation, for example, that highlights your group as eschatologically significant) — and you could be in any super-Protestant restorationist setting.

“Fortunately, beneath these squabbles over distinctives, one nearly always finds an idealism among restorationists, a belief that Christianity should and can be better than its common manifestations. This is a good thing and needed — an important contribution (along with the less helpful static) restorationists bring to the table.
. . .

“Restorationists . . . often refer to themselves . . . as a remnant. This remnant language is common in the Bible. For those who need consolation for small numbers, it’s an attractive blanket to wrap up in: we’re not small because we’re ineffective, or lazy, or ingrown, or otherwise unattractive; we’re small because we’re a faithful remnant! Everyone else has compromised. They’re taking the easy way. We’re the few, the committed, the faiful, the proud. . . .

“What is a truly faithful remnant like? Its members do not turn inward in elite self-congratulation, smugly casting a critical eye of disdain on the rest. No, the faithful remnant ‘after God’s heart” turns its heart others-wise, outward, toward the unfaithful, in loyalty and love. True faithfulness bonds the hearts of the faithful to their unfaithful neighbors. . . . The faithfulness of a faithful remnant is not crabbed and constricted; it is loyal, magnanimous, and generous.”

Now . . . go back and check Leroy’s article yesterday.

Response to “A Christian Affirmation”

Published
by
Mike
on May 12, 2005
in Church of Christ
. 28 Comments

By now, many of you have read the “Christian Affirmation” that was plastered all over a full-page ad in the Christian Chronicle. I already mentioned how proud I am of many of my friends who are scholars who refused to sign the ad — friends at ACU, Pepperdine, Harding, and Lipscomb. I’m sure there were others who decided not to sign, but these are the ones I know of. (If you never saw it, there is — of course — a website: www.christianaffirmation.org.)

Here is one response from Leroy Garrett. I appreciate his willingness to give me permission to use it. (You can find this and other essays at www.leroygarrett.org.)

RESPONSE TO A CHRISTIAN AFFIRMATION 2005

In the May, 2005 issue of The Christian Chronicle there appeared “A Christian Affirmation 2005″ signed by 23 leaders of Churches of Christ –– professors, deans, pulpit ministers, elders. The intention of the document is “to clarify our Christian identity in a time of increasing uncertainties.” The document expresses “A Word of Concern” that recent efforts to overcome a legacy of legalism and division has led us “to relax our commitment to practices that have been characteristic of our churches.” In doing this these leaders have placed issues on the table worthy of critical discussion.

I would like to join the conversation by questioning some of the affirmations set forth.

In appealing to our heritage of unity in the American Restoration Movement, the leaders state that “we believe that unity cannot be grounded in minimal agreements among Christian traditions.” They go on to say that substantive Christian unity is found “in returning to the clear teaching and practices of the early church.”

That unity can be realized only by minimizing the essentials, while at the same time allowing liberty in a wide variety of opinions, is the hallmark of our Stone-Campbell heritage. Alexander Campbell often referred to “the seven facts” of Eph. 4:4-5 as the grounds of unity, and sometimes he reduced them to three –– “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” Barton W. Stone was equally minimal when he defined a Christian as one who acknowledges “the leading truths of Christianity, and conforms his life to that acknowledgement.” They saw the “core gospel” as the basis of unity, not an extended list of dogmas and practices.

This gave rise to an axiom that goes far in identifying who we are or should be:

In essentials (as few as possible), unity;
In opinions (as broad as possible without compromising essentials), liberty;
In all things, love.

W. T. Moore, one of our earliest historians, identified this unique appeal of our heritage in mathematical terms: “The Disciples have always contended for the greatest possible numerator with the least possible denominator.” He meant by this the greatest possible liberty of opinion (numerator) with the fewest possible essentials (denominator). Robert Richardson, an associate of Campbell and our earliest historian, stated it even more succinctly: “That alone which saves men can unite them.”

All this conforms to the consensus of modern New Testament scholarship, that the early Christians had but one creed or one essential –– Jesus is Lord! This is what they lived for and died for. All else was marginal. What believers live and die for is what unites them. “Multiplying the essentials” has sometimes been named as the cause of our divisions. Campbell called it “the tyranny of opinionism.”

When the Affirmation argues for unity by “returning to the clear teachings of Scripture and practices of the early church” it is preserving the illusion of restorationism that has been an albatross about our necks in Churches of Christ all these years. If what these leaders call “The Original Design” of the early church is all that “clear,” why have we divided into numerous factions over what that design or pattern is? Are the “clear teachings of Scripture” all that clear about whether we have Sunday schools, instrumental music, cooperation, societies, Communion cups, etc. Are they clear about the millennium, glossolalia, predestination, election, the Trinity, inspiration, interpretation, etc.?

We differ on all these things –– and even baptism. Stone and Campbell differed on baptism. Our own people have never been of one mind about baptism, much more the church at large. We can no more see everything alike than we can look alike. But we don’’t have to! That is the genius of the Stone-Campbell heritage. We can differ on opinions –– and all the above are opinions –– while we unite upon the essentials, which are centered in the core gospel, Jesus Christ and him crucified.

This is a weighty flaw in the Affirmation –– it has little place for unity in diversity, which is the only kind of unity there is. We can have churches that sing acappella and those that use instruments, and still be united. We can have congregations that have Sunday schools and join in cooperative efforts, and those that do not, and still be one in Christ. We are united in Christ, not by agreement on opinions or methods. It is a Person that unites us, not theories or theology about the Person.

Another questionable affirmation in the document is that “God does not save individuals apart from the body of Christ.” Who is this that knows the mind of Him who said, “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion” (Rom. 9:15)? God will save whom He will, in the church or out. Only God knows the heart, and only He knows how many Rahabs there are out there.

This exclusive view of God’’s grace is the offspring of “the only true church” fallacy that has long made us sectarians. It goes this way: the saved are all in the church; we are that church; so, if one doesn’t belong to the Church of Christ he is not saved.

The document rightly urges that we preserve such practices as weekly Communion and baptism by immersion for remission of sins, and we may urge these as reflective of “the common faith and practice of the earliest Christians.” But even here we cannot make our interpretation and practice tests of fellowship. We must recognize –– as these 23 leaders appear reluctant to do –– that there are multitudes of sincere, intelligent Christians who do not see “the common faith and practice of the earliest Christians” the same way we do. We can stand firmly for what we believe about baptism, and still accept as equals in Christ those who differ with us.

This is consistent with our heritage in Stone-Campbell. No one was more zealous for baptism by immersion than Alexander Campbell –– debating it as he did –– and yet he accepted as Christians those referred to as “the pious unimmersed.” He was himself an example of his own definition of a Christian –– “A Christian is one who believes that Jesus is the Christ, repents of his sins, and obeys him in all things according to his understanding.” After a prolonged study of baptism, he was immersed, but he believed he had been a Christian all along. One is responsible only for such light as he has at any given time, he held.

In defense of our singing without instruments, the 23 leaders point out that acappella music has been the position of numerous reformers and churches through the centuries, such as John Calvin and the Puritans, and 300 million in Eastern Orthodox churches. But that is not the issue. No case has to be made for acappella music. All churches sometimes sing acappella. The issue is making instrumental music a test of fellowship. John Calvin did not make acappella music “catholic,” and the Orthodox churches do not make it an essential to fellowship, as we in Churches of Christ have done.

A number of our congregations have recently gone public in stating they will not longer make instrumental music a test of fellowship –– not that they will no longer sing acappella. That is the issue. Do the 23 signers of the Affirmation agree with those churches, or are they saying that we should keep on making a test of what is but our opinion or preference?

The Affirmation errs as much in what it does not say as in what it does say. In any effort to identify ourselves we should recognize that Churches of Christ are part of a movement “to unite the Christians in all the sects,” and that we must get back on track as a unity people. We must reaffirm such mottoes as “We are Christians only, but not the only Christians.”

In doing this we must confess our sins –– that we have claimed to be the only Christians and the only true church, that we have often been sectarian about the nature of the church and legalistic about baptism. And that we have been wrong about instrumental music –– not in singing acappella, but in making the instrument a test for accepting other believers as equals in Christ. We must go on to affirm our intention to become a Christ-centered, Spirit-filled people desirous of enjoying fellowship with all other Christians, and to join them in labors of love for Christ’s sake.

The Tale of Two Prayer Services

Published
by
Mike
on May 12, 2005
in Church and prayer
. 20 Comments

This article by Ken Ellsworth was in last Sunday’s Abilene Reporter-News. It raises some of the questions many of us will have to ask as we continue to hold to the unique claims of Christ (try revisiting Lewis’s MERE CHRISTIANITY) while living in an increasingly diverse culture. Yes, even in Abilene. Assumptions that were possible fifty years ago in the Bible Belt can’t be made today. It invites us to think about how we can follow the one who said “I am the way, the truth, and the life” while doing so with humility and respect for others. I appreciate ARN’s permission to reprint it here.

Two groups met at noon Thursday in Abilene to celebrate the National Day of Prayer with prayer services.

But they did not pray together. They prayed apart, sadly separated, it seemed to me.

The separation caused me to wonder.

If it is true that a ”family that prays together stays together,” could it be applied to a community? ”The community that prays together stays together.”

Probably not, and it’s probably not necessary. That may be why Abilene has hundreds of churches. People like to pray with kith, kin and kind.

I attended some of each service Thursday.

One group met at Everman Park, drawing about 200 people. It was exclusively Christian, in fact, evangelical Christian. The service was organized by Pray Big Country, a group of local pastors.

The other group met in front of City Hall. About 80 attended. Its participants included people of the following faiths: Baha’i, Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism and Unitarianism. This service was organized by the Abilene Interfaith Council.

The Christian service began with praise songs. Many participants raised their arms in the air, palms up as if they were receiving love radiating down from the heavens. This was not the kind of worship service that I grew up with. The music was unfamiliar and accompanied by guitars and percussion.

I grew up with J.S. Bach fugues played on church organs. It was inspiring. I’m not sure praise service music is as good. For me, trading in Bach for praise music might be something akin to trading in Shakespeare for comic books. Maybe I’m an old fuddy-duddy. Well, there’s no ”maybe” about it.

There were some speakers. Most emphasized their belief that the only path to salvation is through Jesus and that other faiths are in error.

I see how people can think that way, but I am usually thinking more like this: ”In matters of religion, the only absolute wrong is to believe without doubt that you are absolutely right.” But that sort of thinking could be wrong.

One pastor recalled the visit to Abilene several years ago of a Buddhist monk. The monk blessed the city during a ritual. The pastor on Thursday hinted that the Buddhist blessing might have brought bad things to Abilene, including the drought.

I don’t know how the pastor can believe that. I’m quite sure it rains in Buddhist countries.

At City Hall, the atmosphere was much different. People of different faiths and denominations offered prayers. For me, there was warmth to it.

It was lovely to watch people of obviously different faiths hugging each other, sharing each other’s humanity and the need of most to believe.

At the end of the ceremony, loaves of bread were passed out to symbolize that we all can sit down and break bread together regardless of our differences. Almost everybody had a bite.

At the back of the crowd 10 or 12 young people wore shirts that said ”Jesus Crew.” I had seen the same shirts earlier at Everman Park.

For some reason, those young people refused to participate in the breaking of the bread. They weren’t obnoxious about it. In fact, they were polite. They just quietly turned away.

I don’t know, but I think Jesus would have had a bite.

Year 27 and Counting

Published
by
Mike
on May 11, 2005
in marriage
. 30 Comments

I first saw her in Patty Cobb cafeteria on the Harding campus. She took my breath away. She still does.

I kept spotting her after that — sometimes by accident; at other times on purpose. I saw her alone at a seminar on evangelism at the College Church. (I never said anything to her. What’s the right pick-up line for an evangelism conference? Perhaps some — BOONE, QUILE, ELLIOTT — can leave suggestions in the comments.) I saw her at the Lily Pool devotionals. I watched her play volleyball (in tight jeans, as I vaguely recall).

Twenty-seven years ago today we were married at the Westside Church of Christ in Searcy. Dwaine Powell, my former roommate, performed the ceremony, meaning that the oldest person on the stage was 22.

The truth? It’s been hard at times. We both had “issues” to deal with; we spent too much time mad at each other; we went years with little sleep (during Megan’s ten years of life); and we couldn’t find each other in the fog of grief for a couple years after Megan’s death.

AND YET . . . we now have the marriage we always wanted. We got here only by tying a knot in the rope and holding on during some of the hard years.

But even during the hard years, she took my breath away.

May 11, 1978 was a very good day. This one is even better.

Dude, Where’s My Son?

Published
by
Mike
on May 10, 2005
in General
. 12 Comments

For other middle school parents:

DUDE, WHERE’S MY SON?
By Jackie Papandrew
www.JackiePapandrew.com
My son recently turned 13, and the last traces of that sweet little boy who thought I hung the moon seem to have vanished. In his place is a strange, slouching creature with a pencil-thin mustache and adolescent angst oozing from every pore. This extraterrestrial I once called flesh and blood, whose mood swings dwarf the Grand Canyon, seems intent on bungee jumping from that rickety bridge connecting a child with adulthood. And I think he plans on dragging his rapidly aging mother along for the ride.

A drastic language change was the first indication of alien infestation in my once cherished offspring. The rosy-cheeked cherub who used to run to me, eyes shining with adoration and shouting “Mommy!” began to address me (and everyone else) as “Dude.” At 13 months, he was a sponge, joyfully soaking up new words, becoming more communicative every day. At 13 years, the hormones surging through his body have cut a swath through the speech center in his brain; his mouth, when it speaks at all, produces mere shrunken shreds of complete sentences apparently understood only by other members of his species.

“S’up” is a perfectly acceptable, all-purpose phrase in an adolescent’s world. “Mom, I love you,” on the other hand, would burn his monosyllabic lips like acid and permanently corrupt his coolness. Communication with this high-tech yet illiterate generation is fraught with frustration. My son, who can’t seem to utter two intelligible sentences to me, airs his gripes through text messaging. Just the other day, a message flashed on my cell phone in fractured syntax designed to torture my English major soul.

“i no u h8 me. i try so hard 2 b good. y r u mad @ me?”

Cave men scribbling on walls were more eloquent.

Then there’s the alteration in appearance. While I’m desperately trying to avoid bags and sags, this long-haired Neanderthal living in my house embraces them as fashion. Wearing gravity-defying pants slung low across his scrawny backside, he looks just like a baby with an overly full diaper. When I helpfully pointed this out, I got another overwrought, electronic missive that ended with several lines of the text message equivalent of a scream. This modern means of communication does keep the house quiet.

Adolescent males seem to lose all capacity for living like civilized human beings. This means that my boy constantly raids the refrigerator but can’t manage to close a door, that he can take 30-minute showers but never hang up a wet towel, that he stuffs freshly laundered clothes back into his hamper rather than putting them away. I find sticky cereal bowls in his closet because he was too lazy to return them to the kitchen, and the lunchbox he claimed he lost growing whole colonies of bacteria under his bed. I now understand why some animals eat their young.

The child who begged me to read to him daily now rolls his eyes in disgust when I suggest we turn off the video games and pick up a book. The angel who proudly showed me off to his kindergarten classmates now pretends not to know the deranged woman waving to him in the middle school hallway. My fall from grace, seemingly overnight, has left me depressed, bewildered and prone to emotional excess.

“You could cut the apron strings without slicing through my heart, you know,” I whimper in one of my calmer moments.

“Mom,” he mumbles in that teenage tone of voice, “why can’t you just act normal?”

Normal is, of course, a relative term. In about 10 years, I will magically return to normalcy as my pubescent boy turns into an adult. At least I hope I do. In the meantime, I’m going to hang on to those severed apron strings. I may need them to strangle him.

Copyright 2005 Jackie Papandrew; http://www.JackiePapandrew.com. Permission is granted to send this to others, with attribution, but not for commercial purposes.