Archive for the ‘Youth’ category

The Starburst Rapper

February 14, 2021

I couldn’t help myself. One of my seventh-graders had pushed me, dared me, to do it…to do a rap! He doubted my ability to lose my attachment to ancient music– that is, music from the seventies– and pull off a different genre of music that I rarely can decipher the words of.

My students have become used to my tendency to stray outside of the stoic, starched collar, and whatever the textbook says. When I showed up one day while everybody was virtual, dressed as my twin brother, Bobby Wolfe, complete with a blonde mullet wig and Wolfe Family Reunion ball cap, their virtual eyes widened. Another day, as we were finishing the novel The Outsiders, I came as a greaser with a close resemblance to Fonzie (Henry Winkler) on Happy Days. A twenty-year-old Furby showed up a couple of weeks ago.

So a rap, doable!

I wrote it out and waited. The seventh-grader who had double-dared me was out of school because of a sickness, so I waited some more. Finally, he was back this week and on Friday afternoon I let loose with the lyrical masterpiece. Astonished– or petrified, I couldn’t tell the difference– students were taken back by the rhythm and fluctuation in my rapping solo. Here’s the words, in case you’re wondering:

I’m a granddaddy with the Starburst. I wish they’d make a flava’ of Liverwurst!

I’m looking at an empty wrapper, you can just call me the Starburst Rapper!

Don’t want no cherry, ’cause cherry got to be my scary!

It needs to be strawberry! Do I look like Katie Perry!

I’m a granddaddy with the Starburst. I wish they’d make a flava’ of Liverwurst!

I’m looking at an empty wrapper, you can just call me the Starburst Rapper!

Here’s where the rap took an unfortunate turn toward the unexpected. I plopped a strawberry-flavored Starburst candy into my mouth as I was weaving my way through the original creation. As I neared the end, about the time I said Starburst Rapper for the last time, one of my lower gold crowns sprung loose with the taffy attached to it. It was a fitting end, as my students eyes widened even further at the object that emerged from my mouth. Then there was the sound of clapping for my rapping…or was it for the unexpected special effects ending?

The student who had double-dared me into this adventure, and who is always bugging me for candy, looked at me and the strawberry-taffy-covered gold crown I was holding and gave me a frown that communicated, “What a waste of a perfectly good Starburst!”

Clean Hands

February 13, 2021

The pandemic has kept my hands cleaner than they’ve ever been. So much so, in fact, that a couple of my fingers have cracks in the skin from the multitude of hand washings each day. I don’t remember being concerned about my hands being clean when I was a nose-picking, coughing-into third-grader. Cleanliness has come on me later in life.

Late-18th Century preacher John Wesley said that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” Although Wesley was thinking just as much about moral purity as he was of physical cleanliness, the message stuck. Most people think that Wesley’s words were a scripture quote from the Book of Proverbs. They would very well fit into the emphases of our present COVID-19 precautions.

In my reading through the Bible this year I am presently in the “clean chapters” of Leviticus. I’ve been intrigued and startled by the requirements for cleanliness amongst the people of God. If I wasn’t reading scripture I would think it had been written by someone with excessive compulsive behavior or the CDC.

Good hygiene has a purpose. So does a soul rescued from the darkness of sin. Leviticus is filled with remedies for “getting clean” again…offer a sacrificial animal, get quarantined for a period of time, wash thoroughly. Each situation of intentional or unintentional defilement had a procedure. Leviticus 18 and 19 reads like a Baptist youth group’s list of don’ts. Better to be proactive at the beginning of a youth activity than reactive afterwards.

Jesus was proactive and reactive. That is, he became that cleansing agent even before we’d been tainted and he is that reconciler even after we’ve strayed into the dirt. Hebrews 9:14 tells us this.

” How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!

That’s some deep cleaning!

There’s another parable that Jesus tells in Luke 15 about deep cleaning. It’s the story of the widow who sweeps her house until she finds one lost coin. That probably meant sweeping a dirt floor, moving everything around until she found one small, perhaps to most insignificant, coin. That tells me what a clean fanatic Jesus is willing to be to find me and anyone else who’s lost and doesn’t realize it.

Yesterday, Carol dropped a needle on the floor and couldn’t find it. A needle on the floor is hard to find until the bottom of your foot says, “Found it!” I went to my knees and searched until the flipping of a rug caused it to become visible. That picture of being on my knees made me think of the extensive search that Jesus conducts for each one of His children. Can you see him down on all fours looking for you?

Somewhere Between Too Religious and Jesus-And”

February 6, 2021

I’ve been reading “The Message/Remix”, Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of the Bible, for my devotional/quiet time reflection this year. This week the readings took me into Leviticus and Hebrews. Peterson gives a brief introduction to each scripture book. For Hebrews, he says that it was written for people who were either “too religious” or had a bad spiritual habit of putting a hyphen after Jesus…Jesus-and-angels, Jesus-and-Moses, Jesus-and-priesthood.

It’s so relevant for us today that it’s scary! There are followers of Jesus who are so concerned with the fabric of his robe and the color of his crown that they fail to see the Jesus they are called to follow.

And then there are those who feel like Jesus can’t be enough. The hyphen adds any number of things…Jesus-and-politics, Jesus-and-church programming, Jesus-and-money. The danger with hyphens after Jesus’ name is that whatever it is that follows the hyphen is prone to become the dominating force. In other words, it’s almost like Jesus stands up to introduce the guest speaker for the evening and then whatever the add-on happens to be rises to the podium, and Jesus steps to the side.

To clarify, it’s not that Jesus isn’t connected to other parts and interests in our lives; it’s the tendency to contort the Savior into some kind of shape that fits into our interests. He becomes a reference for our opinion, instead of the Revelation through whom we come to an opinion. He becomes the after-the-hyphen word, kind of a substitute driver if the main driving passion of our life gets exhausted.

Peterson makes the point that the book of Hebrews is getting the followers of Jesus to realize that God’s action was in Jesus, not Jesus-and! In our complex culture, many people shudder at the idea of simplicity. It’s too plain for them, like a bowl of rice with no seasonings or butter. Jesus is just not exciting enough for them. The “happening church” they attend adds some color to the plainness of their King with a moving light display and a pastor in skinny jeans. The cappuccino they can sip during the live praise band performance also adds flavor. They are addicted to spiritual seasonings, not quite the intent of Jesus’ words telling people to be the salt of the earth.

Imagine, however, hearing the words of grace and forgiveness for the first time, and finding out that the One who loves me and beckons me to follow is the Only One who does not need to be hyphenated. In fact, the only punctuation after His name might be simply a wondrous exclamation mark! Simply amazing!

What’s My “Jesus Word”?

January 7, 2021

Cary Nieuwhof wrote a blog recently as a result of the Washington protest/unrest. Although written with church leaders and pastors in mind, it had several great points to make about the power of our words. I love it when I read something or hear someone speak that results in causing me to think and ponder the words of the author/speaker.

Cary makes this statement: As Jesus so clearly said, out of the overflow of the heart your mouth speaks.

Word issues are heart issues. The only way to really fix your words is to fix your heart. Sometimes we get so tired of the words we’re hearing that we retreat to silence or irrelevance. Last night, for example, my wife and I got so tired of the reports of what was happening in Washington that we switched channels and started watching the Tennessee-Arkansas basketball game. For someone who grew up as a Kentucky Wildcats’ basketball fan, watching Tennessee play was almost sacrilegious, but we needed a break from the “words”!

Words carry power and influence. They are impactful expressions of our mindset. However, they can be used to lead folks to a place of greater understanding deeper peace, and broadened hope; or they can be used to lead the herd to the edge of the cliff.

The question that came to me, being a Christ-follower, is what’s my Jesus-word for this time? What communication of Christ will inspire me, instead of causing me to change the channels? What word will emerge from my mouth that will be an reflection of my heart?

I think of Jesus sayings at the beginning of the fifth chapter in the Gospel of Matthew. We refer to them as His Sermon on the Mount. He talks about people of mercy and peace, people whose life-priorities are God-glorifying, people who are caring and loving, and people who may be poor in the world’s views but rich in spirit. There are Jesus’ words about grace and forgiveness, servant-minded, and giving. He teaches about inner beauty as being delightful in the eyes of God versus outward piety.

I must do self-inspection of what word my heart is echoing before inspecting the lives of others. We live in a time where criticism has dominated the tapestry. The darkness that shades our hearts affects our vision of our surroundings. For me, I must ask myself why I react with bitterness to a person whose perspective is different than mine? Why am I apathetic toward someone’s passion for a just cause? On the other side, why do I get emotional when I see a child who is seeking to befriend a lonely elderly person?

What Jesus-word will be a guiding force for me in these coming weeks?

Billie Dean Wolfe

January 4, 2021

I was born in Kentucky, close to J. D. Vance’s roots of Hillbilly Elegy fame. Everyone I knew went by two names, first and middle. If someone was referred to only by their first name– aunts and uncles excluded– they were viewed as an outsider or highfalutin. My sister went by Rena Lou, my brother Charles Dewey, and I was Billy Dean.

Except to my aunts! To my Aunts Cynthia and Irene I was Billie Dean. The only other Billies that I knew were all of the opposite gender: Billie Johnson in my high school class, Billie Holiday, Billie Jean King. I never got an explanation as to why my aunts thought I needed an extra vowel to spell my first name, but it appeared on every birthday card they sent me or Christmas present they blessed me with. It may have even been on our wedding present: Mr. and Mrs. Billie Dean Wolfe. I was such a deer-in-headlights during that event that I didn’t notice.

My grandmother, MaMaw Helton, pronounced my first name in such a way that it seemed to warrant more than one letter at the end of it. And then she would roll right into the middle bridge that held the first and last together.

Names were important to us. It connected us to the past and rooted us in the present. I bore the nameplates of a great uncle and an uncle. I was almost a Silas Dean, but, for some reason, my parents yielded to what they stamped on me. Perhaps because Billie Dean flowed better than Silas Dean. Too many “s’es” can cause a lot of spitting. My Uncle Millard (Vance, mind you) chewed Mail Pouch. “S’es” were risky. He even steered away from saying his last name very much!

Still, Billie Dean! It didn’t infuse much manliness into me. I was relieved when I arrived in Ironton, Ohio my sophomore year of high school that some of my classmates connected the closeness of Beowulf, that we happened to be reading, with “Bill Wolfe.” Quickly the new kid was christened with the name of the Scandinavian hero of literature. I became Beowolfe, which was soon shortened to “Beo”!

In a way I had finally shed my aunt-bestowed name, Billie Dean, for a simple three letter replacement. It wasn’t me, but it sounded slightly more heroic. Since I was 5’2″ in 10th grade, I needed all the help I could get.

Light Sensitivity

December 28, 2020

When I stagger into the bathroom in the morning and hit the light switch, my eyes squint at the transition from darkness to light. A few seconds later, however, my sight has adjusted and I rejoice that I can take a shower without having to search to find the bottle of body wash.

Light sometimes stuns us like deer in headlights, but most of the time it’s a revealer– a revelation, if you will– of what is and what is in front of you.

My wife noticed a post on social media from someone who was complaining about Christmas lights being displayed this year in the midst of the dark days of the pandemic. The person’s half-cocked point was that the lights were showing a lack of sensitivity for those who have struggled this past year. In other words, darkness needs to be commemorated with more darkness. Instead of light being a signal of hope, this person saw it as insulting to those who were suffering.

It’s interesting that light has a different purpose and meaning in each of the major religions– Christianity, Judaism, and Islam. It’s always portrayed in a positive sense. In Christianity Jesus is referred to by John as “the true light that gives light to everyone” (John 1:9). Jesus referred to himself as “the light of the world” (John 8:12). In Judaism, the presence of the Lord was seen in the pillar of fire that guided the Hebrews as they left Egypt. Its purpose is to give them light to show them the way. David wrote, “The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear?” (Psalm 27:1) The menorah, the lamp stand, is a symbol for the Jewish people. And in Islam the mosque lamp symbolized divine light.

Light, in other words, has a positive place in the faiths of the world. Instead of a sign of insensitivity, it’s a symbol in its various forms for hope, community, and peace. Perhaps the person who complained was in the midst of a personal dark night, a cavern of loss. Or, maybe it’s someone who has a tendency to complain, kinda like the teetotaler who complained about Jesus turning the water into wine. Some people find fault in any situation.

I recognize the dark days that many people are living in. Financial constraints, separation from loved ones, and concern about being infected with the virus are just a few of the heavy burdens that have been weighing folks down.

I also recognize the optimism of light, especially since the longest night of the year is only a week in our rearview mirrors. A gathering in our city on December 21, known as “The Longest Night”, remembers the struggles of the homeless, and they light candles to symbolize the meaning of the event.

Power outages are not welcome events. People and work crews scramble when power outages darken a city. The first thing affected people go for is a flashlight, a candle, or a fire in a fireplace. Light is not to be hidden, but is to shine. As Jesus tells us, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)

Fill-in Pretenders and Fake Applause

December 26, 2020

In some ways, it’s been a year of pretend! There’s been the more consequential pretending, such as pretending people are immune from contracting the Coronavirus, pretending it’s a conspiracy, and pretending it’s not real. There’s the passive pretending, such as believing that life is going to go on like normal, we can still line up outside Best Buy with a mass of other pretenders hoping to get a PlayStation 5 (I’ll still confused by PlayStation 1 and The Sims!), and pretending that no one has been affected by COVID-19 except people in far away places that don’t concern us.

A lot of pretending!

Some of the pretending, however, has been more on the humorous end of the meter. For instance, when Major League Baseball began their shortened-season in late July, there was the ingenious creation of fake fans- cardboard cutouts sitting in the seats of the stadium- and fake applause from the pretend crowd. What a hoot to see the image of Ricky Henderson sitting in the seats behind home plate at an Oakland A’s game, still wearing his A’s uniform!

The NBA bubble caught on to it with virtual fans, whose images could be seen watching the game. My cynical nature wondered how over-priced one of those virtual seats ran a person, and whether it was pretend money they used to buy that make-believe seat?

In the meantime, I was called into the middle school I have coached at for the last actual 20 years, and, more recently, substitute taught at for the past five years, to see if I would teach a 7th grade language arts class at the beginning of the year. There was an immediate need and the principal was hoping I could help them out for the first month. The first month turned into the first quarter, and then the second quarter, and now I’ll be there for the year. In some ways, I’m like a pretend teacher teaching a real class! It’s almost like a Hallmark Christmas movie plot-line…Mr. Wolfe teaching at a school whose mascot is a Timberwolf and giving secret gifts to all the students, who don’t realize he’s Santa Claus until the last scene of the movie when he suddenly has a full white beard and a wife whose full name happens to be Christmas Carol Wolfe! Wow! That idea took just as many weird turns as some of the actual stories the 7th grade students were assigned to write!

And then our school went to remote learning two weeks before the Thanksgiving break. Suddenly, all of my students were looking at me from the other side of a computer screen, wondering if this was really happening. A young lady in my first class each day, who sat at the desk next to my desk, was no longer actually in my room. I missed her giggle and chatter, told her I was going to make a cardboard cutout of her and sit it at her desk, but I didn’t want to buy a new refrigerator just to make that happen.

So I found a Cabbage Patch Doll in our basement, leftover from our daughters’ growing-up days and brought her to school. Redianca, as I called her because of her red hair, was propped up at that desk beside mine as my first pretend student. I showed each of my classes, turning my laptop so they could greet the new kid, and causing giggles, some head-shaking, running commentary, and smiles.

And then I thought “Why not add a new pretend student each day?”, so I did! Our basement contained a whole student body of pretenders, teddy bears, “Tobo” the giant teddy bear that had been our daughter’s since she was 3 (and now is 39), the Three Christmas Bears, Goldilocks the scary doll, Woof the Wolfe Dog, Piggie, Pumpkinhead, Kitty the Koala, and on and on. Each day I introduced the new student to their classmates. The language arts textbooks have been put to good use as seats, props, and terraces as a way to bring, ironic as it sounds, some crazy normalcy to this unreal school year.

On the last day before Christmas break, my virtual students were wondering if their “replacements” would still be there when they are scheduled to return in mid-January? I replied that I would clear them out for the real kids to have their seats back. The real kids replied, “No, Mr. Wolfe! Keep them there! You can sit them on the counters by the windows!”

So, that’s what I’ll do! It will be a return, in some ways, to the fake fans filling the seats of a sports stadium; pretend fans watching a pretend teacher instructing real students! I still can’t figure out, however, how to make the fake applause happen!

A Light (Or Strand) in the Darkness

December 24, 2020

On Monday, Carol called for me to come outside and see The Christmas Star, as it’s referred to– Jupiter and Saturn in line with each other, something that won’t happen again for about 800 years (which is about the time that all of the styrofoam trash will breakdown).

I stared up at a speck of a star and tried to contain my excitement. A telescope would have raised my enthusiasm, but Apple has not yet figured out how to put one of those in my iPhone. I mean, to be able to see Saturn’s rings would have been pretty cool, but my progressive eyeglass lens would not enable my vision to make that happen.

The next night the two of us decided to go for a car ride and view the Christmas lights in the neighborhoods around us. Carol had found some kind of email or web site that told where the most awesome displays were and we headed toward one of the street addresses a couple miles away. When we turned onto the drive we were greeted by a long line of cars waiting, as if it was rush hour L.A. traffic. Up ahead (way up ahead) we could see the flashing lights of the front yard production of one of the residents. The lights moved in time with the music that played, as opposed to the cars that moved-not! After a few minutes of staying in the same distant spot we turned around and left. Neighborhood light productions draw ooh’s and aah’s from mesmerized crowds. The two of us, however, were simply searching for some light displays that conveyed peace and hope.

Traveling down a few more streets unclogged with waiting vehicles brought us that sense of contentment. There were simple displays that echoed the hope of the season, and then we returned to our own house where an unimpressive strand of lights goes along the top of our garage and front porch. Believe me, there is not a traffic jam on our street, except for the neighbors a couple of houses down who have too many vehicles and no place to put them but the street.

Our “light experiences” made me think about the birth narratives and also some of the beginning words of the Gospel of John. The birth of Jesus was anything but a production. It was unattended, except for sheltering livestock and distant visitors who made not have been there for a long, long time. No symphony provided background music for the song of angels. Like this week’s Christmas Star, it was unimpressive unless you had a way of seeing what it really was. John testified to its significance: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:5)

It was a single light in a dark time, a single light that did not command the attention of the crowds. That light, that single light was the most significant light. As John writes, “In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” (John 1:4)

Tonight I think I’ll stand in front of our house, looking at our strand of lights bought at a summer garage sale and give thanks to the Creator for His hand in the simplicity of life and how His peace so often comes to us in the ordinary moments

Car Wash Timing

December 20, 2020

Galatians 4:4-6

 But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law,  to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship.  Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba,[c] Father.”

Carol and I decided to take our CRV to the car wash yesterday. We had received an email from the business that had just opened, offering a free wash. Since the CRV was resembling a middle-school boy who hadn’t showered in a month, we thought the timing was right on. What a surprise to arrive at the place and find out that it was their grand opening and that we could keep the digital coupon we had received for another time. Yesterday the wash was on the house.

Remarkably, there was only one other car in front of us that was about to take the turn into the drive-thru wash. A minute later we pulled onto the conveyor belt, put the car in neutral, and gave control of the work to the brushes, sprayers, soapers, and dryers. The cleaning was thorough and now I’m tempted to park the CRV in the garage for the next month.

As I reflected on the words of Paul in Galatians about “right timing”, that car wash journey made me think of the importance of patience and allowing things to happen when they’re suppose to, not when we want them to. I know what you’re thinking. “A car wash? Come on, Bill!”

Well, there’s a reason why the automatic blowers come last in the car wash, and why the brushes come after the soap has been applied. Need I go on?

Patience is in shorter supply than toilet paper these days. I’m reminded of the absence of patience whenever I drive that now clean CRV anywhere. The other day a vehicle behind me in the merge lane on Powers Boulevard whipped around me as I’m driving in the merge lane- a solid white line to my left- gaining speed to merge. The other driver threw safe driving out the window like a used hamburger wrapper in order to gain at least five seconds in his journey.

The idea of God waiting until the time had fully come was not received well by many people in pre-Jesus days. There had been revolts, invasions, Roman soldiers inhabiting Jewish cities, oppression, and still no messiah. How long would God wait until he merged his planned birth into the mainstream? How many would decide to take things into their own hands, kinda like Saul and the burnt offering in 1 Samuel 13. He’s confronted by Samuel and offers the excuse of impatience.

1 Samuel 13:11-13 Saul replied, “When I saw that the men were scattering, and that you did not come at the set time, and that the Philistines were assembling at Mikmash,  I thought, ‘Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the Lord’s favor.’ So I felt compelled to offer the burnt offering.”

 “You have done a foolish thing,” Samuel said.

We have a nasty habit of thinking the timing is right when it’s beneficial for us, but when we have to wait the gum-chomping and jaw-tightening quickens. As far as I know, the Almighty does not chew gum and exercises the patience and perseverance of the champion in a staring contest.

Perhaps that should also be a word of encouragement for many of us. Remember that child that has wandered away like a prodigal kid, or the suffering relationship that has been in need of healing for a very, long time? Maybe you’re about to have all the grime washed away and God is about to blow you away with the timing of his intervention. Just let the merge lane run its course!

Wolfe Wisdom

December 14, 2020

Sometimes it’s more stupid than wise. Sometimes it’s wisdom that’s a bit too deep for seventh grade minds to grasp. And sometimes it’s simply an observation that I’m king about middle school behavior.

Whatever it is, I begin my seventh-grade language arts class with it each day. It’s “Wolfe Wisdom”. Truth be told, many of the wise sayings that take me about five seconds to read and fit on one Google Slide come to me as I sit in our hot tub the night before. As I soak the questions about life and language arts come to me and I formulate them into a sensible sentence.

Like tomorrow’s: If Hershey’s made a deodorant stick, middle school boys would smell a lot sweeter!

Or this one that made them think: To often gratitude doesn’t emerge in our lives until what or who we are grateful for is no longer around.

Or as we head toward Christmas: Don’t allow the “stuff” (possessions) of your life define who you are, instead of the substance of what you’re about. The stuff will disappear, but the substance of who you are will be remembered.

One of my students told me– in a respectful way, mind you– that I couldn’t call it Wolfe Wisdom if I quoted someone else. I had just quoted Groucho Marx when she said that.

Once in a while I do a play on title words and all it Wolfe Whine or, like one day last week, Wolfe Wish-dom. “All I want for Christmas is for all the missing assignments to be wrapped up and submitted by December 18! No ribbon and bow necessary!”

One observation I made recently was this: I don’t understand how a student with $200 ear pods and a $700 cell phone doesn’t seem to be able to remember to bring a pencil to school!

Some days my students recognize that Wolfe Wisdoms are the ramblings of a senior citizen separated from them by at least two generations and a ton of technology. I’ve never played Minecraft, Fortnite, or any of those finger-cramping video games, but I betcha’ I can take anyone of them in a game of chess or foul-shooting competition.

I’ve got to think about that. There may be another Wolfe Wisdom hidden in those words that I’ll discover as I sit in the hot tub tonight.