Archive for September, 2005

Monday, September 19

Published
by
Mike
on September 19, 2005
in General
. 29 Comments

Yesterday evening was my first chance to go dove hunting this year. There were lots of birds flying and I got my limit (15 since we were north of I-20). It was a perfect evening with West Texas skies trying to squeeze out every possible drop of beauty. A little breeze, plenty of birds, a good buddy, an endless sky, and no snakes.

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I hold to my prediction: Cards and Angels in the Series.

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Favorites on my Ipod lately: Bebo Norman, Shawn McDonald, Keb Mo, Allison Krauss, and Zoe (the new CD is excellent!). CCR and Buffett, of course. But that goes without saying.

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Have you seen the cartoon of the two little girls at the bus stop, chatting as they hold their personal planners? One says: “Okay, I’ll move ballet back an hour, reschedule gymnastics, and cancel piano . . . you shift your violin lesson to Thursday and skip soccer practice . . . that gives us from 3:15 to 3:45 on Wednesday the 16th to play.”

Is that too close to home to be funny? More about that later . . . .

But for now: what suggestions do you parents have for slowing down the pace enough so that kids can have a life that isn’t franctic and breathless?

Returning to Twenty

Published
by
Mike
on September 16, 2005
in Highland, memories and preaching
. 13 Comments

I met this morning with “my group of elders.” I can’t tell you what a blessing it is. They’re there to encourage me and to support me.

I remember an experience from another time in life when “my group of elders” was often upset. It was a scolding session. One time one of them barked at me, “When are we going to get back to preaching about the gospel?” I was preaching a long series on the cross. And he wanted to know when we were going to talk about the gospel. The frightening thing is that this man had been in many places of spiritual leadership.

It’s so nice to have trust for the 40 brothers who serve as our elders. At times I miss a meeting and find out decisions that have been made. Even when I don’t understand, I have no doubts about the prayer and spiritual discernment that went into it. If it doesn’t sound right to me, my assumption is that there is something I don’t know. For that I’m very thankful.

But most meetings don’t center on decisions, anyway. They center on prayer, affirmation, commissioning, and encouragement. Especially, prayer. I’m a better man for being allowed to peek in these past fourteen-plus years.

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Yesterday I sat next to my buddy Eddie Sharp, one of the world’s great ministers, during the ACU Preacher’s Workshop (or whatever it’s called). As I listened to Paul Scott Wilson — author of The Four Pages of the Sermon, God Sense, Broken Words, and Preaching and Homiletical Theory – I was transported back to when I was 20. It was like a wave falling over me as I was swept up in remembering how eager I had been to preach. I was all of a sudden in the Harding library reading my Greek New Testament. I was listening to Jim Woodroof preach at the College Church. I was bug-eyed listening to the passion of Terry Smith and Landon Saunders. I was underlining in my first NIV New Testament. I was soaking up the words of Neale Pryor and Jimmy Allen, Tom Eddins and Jerry Jones. I was sitting in chapel listening to the powerful words of faith from Cliff Ganus.

For just a brief moment, I got to be twenty again.

Ira . . . and My Kudo Addiction

Published
by
Mike
on September 15, 2005
in food
. 20 Comments

I have a wonderful picture I took from Chris’s first football game. (Yes, the same Chris I was pushing in a wheelchair four months ago.) It’s a picture of my 5′3″ 7th grader, a cornerback, close to the line of scrimmage to guard the 6′4″ 7th grade wide receiver from Mann Middle School. In the back of the picture you can see that help is on the way: his friend, a 4′10″ safety, is running over to assist.

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I was in New York City Tuesday and saw more limos than there are cars in Abilene. Turns out the heads of state of 160 countries are in NYC for the U. N. session. That might explain why I couldn’t find a hotel room anywhere. Actually, I did learn that there were rooms in the $500-1200/night range. How can so many people pay so much for a hotel room? (Thanks to our friends there who put me up Tuesday evening!)

While I was there, I got to meet Ira Lester Hays, the younger brother of Sophia and the son of Joe and Laura Hays. So many of you have been praying for him. Ira has spent his whole life in NICU at Children’s Hospital in Upper Manhattan. He probably thinks that’s what every baby does. His parents, in their faithful love, are heroes of mine.

All this happened just after they planted a church in Brooklyn. Many prayers continue that little Ira’s lungs will continue to develop.

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I found out that Laura shares a passion of mine: Kudo bars. And we both agree that the chocolate chip Kudo bars are by far the best, but NO ONE carries them anymore. They are nowhere around here, and she can’t find them in Brooklyn.

Two confessions.

First, I found a grocery store in Malibu that carries the chocolate chip bars. So I bought the five boxes they had and carted them back to Abilene. Apologies to my friends at Pepperdine.

Second, I have at times, in desperation, bought a “variety pack” just to get the three choc chip bars. I set the others out for Chris to eat. The whole “don’t-cast-your-pearls-to-swine” thing.

If any of you out there in blogdom know where chocolate chip Kudo bars can be purchased, Laura and I would like to know. I don’t know about her, but I am willing to pay a handler’s fee for anyone who can supply me.

So . . . is this what an addiction looks like?

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I just joined the world of podcasts, subscribing to the NPR “Most E-Mailed Stories.” It was wonderful catching up to stories from the last week on my trip to NYC.

Strange Fire

Published
by
Mike
on September 13, 2005
in scripture
. 26 Comments

Many kids raised in a Christian family grow up with a defining biblical story. For some, it’s Daniel and the lion’s den. For others, David and Goliath. Or perhaps for others it’s the courage of Esther.

My defining story was Nadab and Abihu. I remember more sermons mentioning it than any other narrative from the Bible. (I’m sure my memory is a bit skewed here. But we did, nevertheless, hear about them alot.)

You know the story: these are the sons of Aaron who, in Leviticus 10, offered strange fire and got toasted to a crisp.

It always got paired with another story, depending on the point being made.

If the point was that instrumental music will condemn you, then it was paired with Noah and the gopher wood. (When God specified gopher wood, he excluded all other kind of wood. When he said sing, he thereby excluded anything else.)

If the point was that baptism has to be by immersion, then it was teamed up with the story of Naaman. Go to the river, even if it doesn’t make sense to you.

If the point was that it’s really, really easy to hack God off and that the road to hell is really, really wide, and most of you are probably on that wide road (including most so-called Christians), then it was paired with the story of Uzzah (2 Samuel 6:3-8).

Overall, my impression from this text was that you’d better make sure you don’t make mistakes.

This led to a kind of revulsion toward this narrative tucked in the middle of Leviticus. And I have to confess, I went a really long time in my preaching career without preaching on it. I want to live under the guiding authority of that text, but it holds so many memories of fearing the flames of hell. My stereotype of the way the story was used represents a religion I have little interest in because it doesn’t fit the way of Jesus.

But now I notice that it comes right after two chapters where the priests are prepared for leading the rituals of worship and sacrifice. We might yawn at all the information, but at the end the people were filled with joy (9:22-24). The rhythm of all this reminded them that God–the one who had chosen them and delivered them from Egypt–was in their midst.

Then comes the strange fire and the sudden deaths of the sons of Aaron.

But what if the story’s central message isn’t, “You’d better be careful to get things right”? I’ve tried sitting it next to a different text: 1 Samuel 15:22f. There King Saul, once again disobedient, heard these words from the prophet Samuel: “Does the Lord delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the voice of the Lord? To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams.”

Worship and ritual can be life-affirming. But they don’t substitute for obedience and pure hearts (Matthew 15:3-9). Rather, they should flow out of hearts devoted to God.

Whatever Nadab and Abihu did was apparently an egregious offense–something maybe even idolatrous. God had spelled out what he wanted (Exodus 30:9), and they had decided that they knew a better way. It wasn’t an honest mistake. It was an in-your-face test of God. That never goes very well.

This story calls on us to live lives that reflect God’s holiness. It’s not primarily about getting worship right; it’s about having hearts that are right. Note that at the end of the chapter, Aaron also fails to follow the letter of the law when he doesn’t carry out all his priestly responsibilities. But he explains to Moses that he just wasn’t up to it because he was mourning for his sons. And apparently that was all right.

Rituals are trying to root us in our foundational stories and to shape us. They matter greatly. But they aren’t the ultimate goal. The goal is lives formed after a holy God.

Now I think the authoritative word of this old text is just the opposite of what I imagined as a teen. Instead of saying that fine-tuning worship is the ultimate goal, perhaps it’s pointing to a limitation of worship and ritual. They are the overflow of a well-formed heart–not a substitute for it.

But I Have All the Discount Cards I Need Already!

Published
by
Mike
on September 12, 2005
in General
. 37 Comments

Former Highland member John Lackey has lowered his ERA to 3.30 and is third in the AL in strikeouts behind Johan Santana and Randy Johnson. He’s now 12-5 and has been a big part of the Angels’ first-place standing.

My dream World Series: the Cardinals and the Angels.

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Yesterday at second service, a woman about my mom’s age read scripture before communion. And as she read Isaiah 53:4-7, she began choking back tears. This godly woman has read that passage thousands of times, and it’s still as fresh to her as the first. It was one of the most meaningful moments I’ve had in worship ever.

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I’ve had a song stuck in my head all weekend. I cannot get it out. “Someone’s knockin’ at the door; somebody’s ringin’ the bell . . . .”

Why do I get songs like that stuck? Why THAT instead of “Salvation Belongs to Our God”? Or why the Beverly Hillbillies’ theme song instead of “In Christ Alone”?

The only way I know to get rid of these songs is to pass them along to others. So now it’s your problem. Someone’s knockin’ at the door . . . .

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A request for help. How do you handle children’s sales (for school, sports, and scouts) and church assemblies? We’ve never let our children sell things at church. One reason is that the same people wind up being nailed again and again. It puts them in the awkward position of buying more than they want (and perhaps spending more than they have to spend–especially in such a large church) or having to say “no, thanks” while feeling that they’ve disappointed a child they love. But other parents permit their children to sell there since it is, in fact, their kids’ extended family. I see both sides. Any suggestions?

Katrina Stories of Devastation — and Victory

Published
by
Mike
on September 9, 2005
in missional
. 16 Comments

I received an e-mail from Wayne Barnard this morning that inspired me. I asked his permission to share it.

The time is 11:26 p.m., and this may not be very coherent (I’ve only slept 2 hours during the past 55 hours), but I must reflect my thoughts as I conclude two of the most significant experiences with our students.

I met more than thirty of our students yesterday at 8:00 a.m., along with Val Mascari, 6 of our WFF gentlemen, Mark Lewis, Charla Farrell, and Steve Sargent. We cleaned for four and one-half hours until the old Wal-Mart Store was ready to receive potential displaced persons. My heart was warmed as I worked alongside students and staff, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, and wiping down walls. We were quite the team, and I was blessed by the surprise and amazement of the Wal-mart regional manager when he came to the store at 12:00 noon and saw the sudden transformation. I also swelled with pride as Abilene officials marveled at the energy, spirit, and fortitude of our students.

Last night, Todd Ormsby, my son (Colin), and I drove to Lake Cisco Christian Camp to deliver a big-screen TV and 4 other TVs and DVD players donated by Best Buy and Circuit City. (Earlier that evening, Mimi and I had spent almost two and one-half hours with managers of both stores as they so willingly donated TVs, DVD and VCR players, and movies.) We set up the big-screen and one DVD player in the larger dining room for the displaced families (54 persons) to enjoy watching movies. We placed a smaller TV and DVD player in each of the cabins so that families could watch movies at night after it was dark. Todd and Colin returned home at about 11:00 p.m. and I remained at the camp to receive the families who traveled by bus from Baton Rouge (a 14 hour trip). The first bus arrived at 3:15 a.m. The people were exhausted, but very thankful to be out of the chaos of Louisiana. We immediately met their physical needs by feeding them, caring for their illnesses, and providing them with brand new pajamas and underwear. Mark Lewis, Steve Rowlands, Jeff Arrington, and 4 of our students (Collin Packer, Chris Field, Clint Askins, and Jeremy Webb) arrived at 4:15 a.m. before the second bus arrived. They were quite helpful as we continued to meet the needs of these additional families.

After we got everyone to bed at about 5:30 a.m., we stayed up drinking coffee and planning our processes for the day. Jeff Arrington and three of our students left early for a 9:30 a.m. class. Jeremy stayed to help out. Families started waking up and coming to the dining hall for breakfast at about 8:30 a.m. Our MFI and Clinical Counseling Graduate students arrived for training with Bob McKelvain as we implemented our plan for interviewing our guests and assessing their needs. By 10:00 a.m., 22 of our finest undergraduate students arrived on the ACU bus to help play with and take care of the children while others of us interviewed their parents and began helping families with their plans and expectations. At one point during the morning, Bob stopped me and asked if I had noticed what was happening. We stood in the middle of the dining room and marveled at our students playing with children, holding children, changing diapers, sweeping floors, serving drinks and food to families, interviewing parents, showing concern for peoples’ experience, and ministering God’s grace and mercy to a tired and devastated people. All I could do was weep. It was an overwhelming experience that I was missing because I was equally caught up in the sheer pleasure of being used by God to bless these amazing people. Their stories of survival, loss, and triumph were astounding. Their faith and hope were riveting. I was blessed beyond measure. Our students were literally connecting with people, spirit to spirit. I wish you could have been there. I wish you could have witnessed this awe-inspiring scene.

The day only got better as we developed close relationships by listening to stories and connecting with deep and contradictory feelings of devastation and victory. What blessed me most was the faith and resiliency of these worn-out people. Fathers who pulled their families to safety in small boats; mothers who lovingly cared for their children on cold floors, in crowded shelters, and on long, exhausting bus rides; and children who trustfully followed their parents on a bus to the little West Texas town of Cisco. One of my greatest blessings was holding little two-year old Bernard both early Thursday morning when he got off the bus crying, and later Thursday morning when he awoke crying. Both times, I was warmed by his quieted soul snuggled safely on my chest as he slept in peace. Providing him with such safety and security was absolutely overwhelming. I could only imagine the complete and amazing love of God for us all as He holds us in the safety of His arms, close to His breast.

The day ended with our new friends going off once again to their cabins to sleep in soft and safe beds. As I loaded the ACU bus with our wonderful students, I was struck by our coexisting exhaustion and blessing. We were spent, but we were full. God has truly been gracious to us in our experience today.

Tomorrow I will wake up a different person. I’m not certain what may lie ahead for my new friends, but I know that I have been touched by God’s grace, and I am not the same.

Lord, please bless my friends with your presence as they sleep. May their thoughts be protected from the devastation of their recent memories, and may their hearts be filled with all that is strong, so that they make awake tomorrow with a deep resolve because of your promise!

Seeking a Lasting City

Published
by
Mike
on September 8, 2005
in Books, Church and missional
. 15 Comments

As soon as you can, get your hands on Seeking a Lasting City: The Church’s Journey in the Story of God. ACU Bible profs Doug Foster, Randy Harris, and Mark Love have written this incredible book, which describes the church as “a story-formed, story-living people.”

My hope is that people would read it . . . and then suggest it as a study guide for Bible classes . . . and then decide to purchase a copy for every leader of their church.

This is ecclesiology at its best–helping us to anchor our understanding of the church in the story of Christ.

Here is a sample from one of my favorite chapters, “The Church Outside the Gates”:

“The church in a post-Christian, postmodern, postdenominational world is the exilic church, the missional church, the prophetic church, the marginalized church, the church of the cross that stands outside the city gates. They are all embedded in our story. While their specific confluence in our time and place may be unique, that’s true of the church in every time and place. No church is exactly like any other.

“This reflects the wisdom of God and the genius of the Gospel; its story is always the same story, its good news the same good news, its church the one and only church. Yet within this framework, God is constantly creating us anew for the sake of his kingdom work in the world. The church doesn’t accommodate to the culture in order to grow. It grows because it follows Christ to the place of service and sacrifice outside the city gates. In this, it is radically counter-cultural, affirming that this is not our home.

“But the church can only have a counter-cultural message if it is deeply engaged in culture. The church subverts the worldly values of culture while it is in the world, actively and genuinely serving the lost. What we often take for a counter-cultural stance is simply irrelevance. When the church is irrelevant, it does not subvert the darkness of culture; it simply stands aloof from it.”

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A couple of the authors are fellow Highland members, and as I read their excellent section on leadership — about how the greatest need is for “saints” who pray, mentor, and guide — I gave thanks again for the elders with whom I serve. These are men of compassion and courage, well formed in the Christian story. I know of no other group with whom I’d so quickly entrust my family’s spiritual health.

The Glove is BACK!

Published
by
Mike
on September 7, 2005
in Baseball, family, sports and the wreck
. 13 Comments

For months Chris’s glove sat idle. As he recovered from a wreck — first in a wheelchair and then in a brace — it lay in the bottom of his baseball bag.

This old Wilson glove has been in our family since about 1992. I think we got it when Matt was ten. He wore it through major league and maybe junior league. Then, when Chris got old enough he started wearing it.

I’ve thrown tens of thousand of balls to that old glove, oiled it dozens of times, and had it re-strung a couple times.

Yesterday that glove was back on his left hand. It was a good sight. We’re thankful that recovery continues.

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Does e-mail save time or cost time?

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“There is more to life than increasing its speed.” Gandhi

Ignoring Lazarus

Published
by
Mike
on September 6, 2005
in Church, missional and scripture
. 17 Comments

Yesterday, Diane and I did the communion thoughts and prayers at Highland. What a blessing to share that together. Knowing that she was going to be reading Hebrews 5:7-10, I was struck by this verse from “I Stand Amazed” earlier in the service:

For me it was in the garden
He prayed, “Not my will, but Thine,”
He had no tears for his own griefs,
But sweatdrops of blood for mine.

No tears for his own griefs? Certainly Jesus shed plenty of tears for the sorrows of others, but he was fully human. I’m guessing that the one who “offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” did shed a few tears for his own grief. Does that somehow diminish his God-ness?

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I read the headline with the huge, bold font in this morning’s sports page: AGELESS ACE. It’s about how Andre Agassi, old codger that he is, can still whip some of the younger players.

So just how old is Agassi? 35. That’s thirty-five. In other words, this “ageless” wonder was entering kindergarten about the time I was starting out at Harding.

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I am upset. At myself.

As I watched all those evacuees from inner-city New Orleans, I realized I had never seen them. I’ve seen Nola’s. And Galatoire’s. And Ralph & Kakoo’s. And the Cafe du Monde. And Preservation Hall. And the Imax. And the Aquarium.

But I somehow have managed in all those trips to avoid seeing the 28% of that great city who live below the poverty line.

My friend Larry James says that almost all American cities are the same way. The difference is that the people never get flushed out. So we just don’t see them. We stay in our malls, theaters, restaurants, and stadiums in the better parts of town. And we complain about our taxes and about the sharing of funds for poorer school districts.

But right now I’m not mad at the American people or the American government. Of course, we’ll have to face questions of how we’ve permitted this to exist. We’ll have to get rid of our stereotypes of why people are poor as if it was always a choice. (We can always live with it better if moral accusation is involved.)

I’m mad at me. All those trips to New Orleans and I didn’t see these people who matter as much to God as my own sons.

I’ve been reading Luke 16:19-31 this past week, preparing to teach the university class at Highland. And I didn’t like what I saw. Because it’s hard to find what the rich man’s sin is. He didn’t hit Lazarus, didn’t kick him out; didn’t hurl insults at him.

He just ignored him. Lazarus wasn’t even a blip on his radar screen.

There’s something unique about this parable of Jesus: a person is named! I wonder if it’s because Jesus wanted us to know that–in the world of the story–Lazarus is a person. He has a name. God knows him and cares deeply about him.

O, dear Lord, please open my eyes to see Lazarus. Because I’m privileged, he’s hard to find. I know how to steer around him. But let me see!

Joe and Becky

Published
by
Mike
on September 4, 2005
in Highland
. 6 Comments

Here’s the article about Highland’s outreach minister, Joe Almanza. He and Becky are an amazing couple who are leading us outside the safe walls of “church” into the world that God so loves.