Archive for March 2024

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Separation Being a Follower of Jesus From Waving Our Flag

March 29, 2024

I’m an American Baptist.

In saying that, I must clarify what it means. American Baptists trace their roots to Roger Williams, a 17th-century Puritan minister who sensed the tension in a church-state union and established the Providence Plantation in Rhode Island. The plantation was a place where people, according to their convictions, could worship freely, a place where the freedom of religion was valued more than the mandates of the governing body.

Thus, there is confusion these days when the name of my denomination is mentioned. It is assumed that American Baptists are clothed in red, white, and blue and leaning heavily to the right side of the political pendulum. Truthfully, the American Baptist Churches, U.S.A., is about as diverse as a denomination can possibly be.

But I AM an American, firmly planted in the roots of freedom and a student of American History. In fact, I’m currently reading a lengthy biography about James Garfield. Two of my favorite books are Doris Kearns Goodwin’s Team of Rivals and The Bully Pulpit. I love our country. I recite the Pledge with my students each school day, and I take my hat off in respect and honor whenever the national anthem is sung.

In these confusing times, I am mindful of the increasing tendency to mix my spiritual freedom with my national freedom, as if they are peanut butter and jelly jammed together.

A new Bible recently introduced includes the Declaration of Independence, Bill of Rights, and Constitution within its cover. I am thankful for those incredible documents, which form the foundations of our democracy, but I am troubled by their inclusion in any copy of the holy scriptures. It’s another indication that many Americans have a hard time separating their personal walk with Jesus from their commitment to their country.

I can sense it inside church communities where people fear being ostracized for having a different view on an issue. Many communities of faith have been transformed more into resembling political caucus gatherings rather than the coming together of the faithful followers of Jesus. Amid it, the younger generation has become disgusted with the hypocrisy and has largely looked elsewhere, or not at all, for their spiritual fulfillment.

Quite frankly, the new Bible that has recently been introduced ($59.95 plus shipping and handling) seems as if it is more an attempt at gaining the support of a certain group of voters than it is in easing the biblical illiteracy of the American population.

Thus, there is an unsettling intertwining of two very different kingdoms, one not of this world and the other too much of this world. One that is better characterized as humble pie and the other more enamored with the heat rising from apple pie.

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Changing the Message

March 24, 2024

Recently, Carol and I were having dinner at an Italian restaurant. Since we had skipped lunch that day, we went for an early meal at about 4:30. The golden voice of Frank Sinatra greeted us as we followed the hostess through the dining area to the back. After the Sinatra song ended, the sound of another soothing Italian male voice echoed through the establishment, one of those vocalists that illicit romance in the hopes of the romantic. It almost caused me to order a bottle of wine, except I’m not really a wine drinker. I settled for a Sprite, carbonated bubbles included.

The late afternoon was going splendidly…and then it hit 5:30!

The music that seemed to pair so well with pasta changed. Suddenly, almost as if somebody had changed the radio stations on my dad’s old 66 Chrysler Newport, the style of music switched. Senior Hour was over, and Pat Benatar’s rocking voice invaded the premises. And it was an 80’s Rock radio station! The wine connoisseurs had hobbled to their cars already and the beer drinkers had taken their places.

We skipped dessert as Tina Turner came crashing into the serenity.

Someone had done research on average dining-out times compared to age groups and decided that older folk like those early bird specials and middle-agers don’t show up until the 5:00 news is winding down…and the greybeards have wheeled themselves out to and out of the parking lot.

I couldn’t help comparing the situation to church catering. In my pastoring years, I encountered several different worshipping clientele. There was the die-hard hymn crowd, adamant about the shallowness of the new praise songs and hallow-ness of the red-covered hymnal. And there was the praise choruses cohort that enjoyed singing the same words over and over again because repetition somehow brought them closer to the Almighty. Blended services were like pairing a Whopper with a fruit cup instead of fries. Sinatra didn’t mix well with Benatar.

Expository preaching worked better in one setting and with one crowd than the messages that others said were “so relevant to life situations.”

“We’ve got to embrace change if we’re going to survive” would be a rationale that was uttered by the younger crowd, while the older folk would say, “What we’ve been doing has been highly valuable. Don’t just change for the sake of change!”

Jesus valued what had been while proclaiming a new day, a new birth, and a new covenant. Traditions were important, but so was transformation. In fact, He used the traditions to create a path toward transformation.

We have a way of minimizing those who have different tastes than we do, think differently, don’t look like us, make us uncomfortable, or cause us to feel disrespected. Like scratching the record album as the needle is carelessly lifted from it, or the sudden belting of Benatar singing “We belong, we belong” just as a soup spoon of minestrone is carefully raised to our open mouth, change causes cringing and crying, scratches and stains.

In my elder years, I pray that God would poke me about my close-minded responses, lead me into conversations, and push me to be a student of the things, and people, in life I don’t understand. As Pat Benatar would sing (with one additional word inserted), “We all belong, we all belong!”

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Heart Cries and an Emoji

March 6, 2024

 “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts…” (Acts 2:46)

A close friend razzes me about responding to a text or message with a thumbs-up emoji. After all, he says, “I’m baring my soul or giving reactions to what you’ve written, and what do I get in return? An emoji!”

He pronounces “emoji” like it’s a door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman who has disturbed his Sunday afternoon nap. He’s got a point.

If someone writes an email with several lengthy paragraphs that include their heart cry, pain, or confusion, responding with an emoji is a bit insensitive. Although there may be considerable thought behind that heart emoji, the receiver doesn’t know that. He assumes that the sender gave as much thought to it as the price of a loaf of bread.

Sadly, we’ve become an “emoji culture.” Pressing on an image takes a fraction of a second, whereas writing words with sincerity, thoughtfulness, and concern takes time. Symbolically, many of us have an enormous number of emoji relationships, but only a few of the people we communicate with are friendships of substance. Some might argue that we have so many superficial relationships that we don’t have time to invest in any of them. Healthy relationships, that is, relationships that have emotional depth, meaning, and value, require time. Like a savory stew that needs to simmer, something important needs patience and attention. Fully present, that’s the term.

Jesus was fully present. Can you imagine if He had responded to the leper with a crying emoji or to Simon Peter’s words, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God” with an emoji facial expression of “Wow!”? Thank God, no one has compiled an emoji bible that replaces Jesus’s red-lettered words with wordless expressions of minimal matter.

Jesus was fully present, fully engaged. That modeling of the importance of hearing people’s heart cries and knowing them in more than a superficial way carried over into the early church. People were committed to one another. Even in the depth of their community, there were still the downfalls, such as Ananias and Sapphira. However, for the most part, they were connected. In fact, they were so intimately connected they were known for their sense of community.

Just to be clear, I’m not saying that being closely committed means that we need to be wordy. Like one of my theology books from my seminary days, where a paragraph could be so long that I’d fall asleep before the ending, wordiness does not necessarily mean depth and a solid foundation. I don’t need to respond to my friend’s observation, affirmation, or heart cry with an analysis that resembles a thesis statement. The question to ask myself is, “Does he feel like I’ve heard him?”

In fact, some of us, like in the old days, may simply need to pick up our phone and call.

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Artificial Fear

March 3, 2024

“But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (Daniel 3:18)

Just like my parents were, I’m a sugar-and-cream coffee guy. I learned it from them. Recently, at my neighborhood Starbucks (where I’m writing this on the last stool on the right), I decided to switch from my raw sugar and try one of the artificial sweeteners. One of the baristas, who I always banter back and forth with, said, “Bill, that stuff will give you brain cancer.”

I responded with, “It’s only one time. I don’t think I’ll get brain cancer from having one packet of sweetener.

“Just saying,” she said, a smile on her face. “They’ve done studies, you know.”

Another barista, with a somber tone, added, “Pretty much everything will give you cancer.”

I took my mug back to my stool and sipped on death for a few minutes. But it just didn’t taste right. It was more bitter than bitter and seemed to lay in my mouth like a spoonful of Castor Oil. After a few minutes, I gave in to my fear and went back for a fresh cup…with my usual raw sugar. The barista smiled at me and chuckled. It was as if she had triumphed over my insecurities and fears.

Someone once said, “Fear asks ‘what if.’ Faith says ‘even if.'” Those are great words, encouraging words. So often we allow a fear to grow from a seed to a full blown weed patch. A thought takes root and takes hold of our mind, our actions and inactions and faith gets defeated. We get mixed up on what the Book of Wisdom tells us and become convinced that we walk by sight and not by faith.

Three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, faced death because of their faith in God. The penalty for their unwavering commitment was to be cast into a fiery furnace and burned up. Despite what was ahead, they said the words “…even if…”

Getting to the “even ifs” in the midst of our challenges is hard to do. It’s like convincing a child who is learning how to swim that he can float on his back if he trusts in what the swimming instructor is saying. Until he can be convinced to surrender, he will splash and thrash in the water, afraid to try what will keep him afloat.

To clarify, God also inserted common sense and wisdom into our DNA. Having faith does not mean being stupid. Having faith does not mean I should jump out of a plane without a parachute because I believe God will take on the responsibility of being my parachute. Faith and wisdom are not oil and water that don’t mix well together.

I’m back on my stool this morning, finishing these thoughts. I thought about conquering my fear of artificial sweeteners and having a packet mixed into my Pike Place but decided against it, not because of my fear of brain cancer but because I simply don’t like it. I figured out that it was a decision that didn’t depend on faith. It’s just what my taste buds communicated to me.

Maybe I should pray, “Lord, give me the ability to drink my coffee black.” However, that might be stepping into the land of the ludicrous.

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