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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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Losing Those You Haven’t Seen

February 9, 2024

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.” (Proverbs 17:17)

Another high school friend of mine, Jeff Grubb, died this week. We went to the same church, were in the same youth group, went to Giiovanni’s Pizza after Sunday night church, and razzed one another in ways that made us roar with laughter. Good guy! Funny, smart, and a friend.

The last time I saw him was probably in the late 70s.

I throw that in there because it’s part of the struggle and, unfortunately, the reality. As our lives get launched, we lose touch with most of the people that we grew up with, people that chiseled briefly into the sculpture of our life. Growing up in Ohio, but then going to college and seminary in Illinois, and then taking my first three ministry positions in Michigan before finishing in Colorado…the distance from my growing up roots always seemed to get greater instead of less.

Jeff is the third person who was a part of our youth group who has been called Home to Glory in the past year. It’s that stretch of our journey where the road becomes less and less populated with our traveling companions.

My dad had that experience. Living to be just shy of ninety, all of his close friends had preceded him in death. His last couple of years were a lonely stretch of road.

In less than three months, there will be a seven in front of my age. The number ‘7’ seems to be looking behind itself at all of the country it has already traveled. Most of the road is behind it, and there aren’t too many miles in front of it before reaching the exit ramp.

At 70, a person realizes, if he’s clueless enough not to grasp it already, that the important things in life have nothing to do with Las Vegas, soap operas, who the Bengals are going to draft first, or how upper-class the make and model of his car is. Those are irrelevant, the fluff of an ungrounded life.

The important things in life are rooted in relationships. Spiritual, emotional, intellectual, loving, and entwined relationships. Even the relationships with people you haven’t seen in 45 years are priceless.

Quite frankly, that category of long, lost friends is over-crowded. Facebook and other forms of social media have brought many of them back to us in a weird, sorta authentic, but superficial way. We’re able to see what’s going on in many of their lives, pictures of proms, parades, and promotions, but it’s different. Kinda like getting a postcard from the Grand Canyon. It’s different than actually seeing the place with your own eyes. Seeing a post from an old friend on Facebook is not the same as sitting in Giovanni’s and razzing one another on a Sunday night.

It causes an ache in my soul to know of the loss of someone who used to be on our church bus and it also makes me treasure what has been.

That being said, my journey this week to Ohio to see my sister, brother, nieces, nephews, and their extended families will end with a reunion at Skyline Chili in Cincinnati with two men who were a part of my college days period. I saw one of them about three years ago, but I have not seen the other one since 1974. Before I get on a plane heading back to Colorado, I’ll spend a couple of precious hours with them, reminiscing about the times we spent together and feeding the aching hunger in my soul for the old days and old friends.

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My Sunday Best

January 27, 2024

“But the father said to his servants, “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.” (Luke 15:22)

I’d put my bowtie on each Sunday morning, drape it with a brown tweed sport coat, attach it to a white button-down dress shirt, and finish the look with the only pair of dress pants I owned (Or my parents owned that were hanging in my closet!), and shiny black Florsheim shoes that made your feet feel like they were being smothered. It was church time, and our family always wore our Sunday best.

It was the only time during the entire week that my mom wore a hat and the only time my brother and I were expected to suffer for three hours in the torture of looking our best for the Lord. Our family of five crammed into the Ford and made the five-minute drive to church, the three kids captured in the backseat, Dad driving, and Mom supervising the backseat inmates.

Wearing our Sunday best was the non-negotiable. We were so accustomed to it that we never even thought of questioning it, even considered the strategy of whining and pouting. By the time I was in the fifth grade, I had retired the bowtie to the back of the bottom dresser drawer and upgraded to a necktie. After all, in our church (First Baptist Church of Williamstown, West Virginia) fifth-grade boys could be junior ushers for the Sunday morning worship service, handing out bulletins and taking up the offering. A suit and necktie were the required attire for such a position.

I’m not sure if the theology of wearing our Sunday best was understandable at that point. To come to church looking sloppy was vaguely connected to being more like the prodigal son of the Bible, wayward and lost from the loving arms of God. For the men, even wearing a suit but no tie was a dip toward depravity.

Since those growing-up years, things have changed on Sunday mornings. Wearing a suit is now more an identifier of the wearer’s generation than a desire to please the Lord. Jeans and a button-down shirt not tucked into the pants is now the norm. Or wearing a jersey of one’s favorite professional sports team, a tee shirt bought at the last rock concert, or Hello Kitty attire.

We now reside in an in-between time where some of the worshippers come dressed to the max while others look as if they just rolled out of bed. I’m an in-betweener. If I’m speaking, I wear Land’s End slacks and a dress shirt, but if I’m pew-sitting, I’m “jeaning.”

The thing many of us from the Sunday-best generation are still nervous about is the scriptural truth that tells us that God gives His best to us, regardless of what we’re willing to give Him. The story of the prodigal son blows us away. The kid who disrespected his father, walked away, and rebelled against the one who had blessed him and raised him is given “the best” when he comes to his senses and returns.

In essence, God gives His Sunday best to us no matter who we are or aren’t. Bowties, neckties, no ties, tie-dyed…He gives His best, not because of who we are but because He wants, even hungers, for our best.

No divine hand-me-downs. No sloppy seconds. Only the best.

Not what we deserve, but rather what He desires for us.

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Fencing The Gospel

January 22, 2024

Friends of mine told me about one of their seminary professors who, when invited to speak at a church that only allowed the King James Version to be used (The Bible that Jesus used!), would bring a bible written in either Hebrew or Greek with him and read the original language. After all, he would say sarcastically, real Christians read the original language. For some reason, he never got invited to come and speak again.

Many churches have paranoia about anything outside of their comfort zone. Like a fortress constructed of high stone walls and surrounded by a moat, they guard against suspicious beliefs and suspect behavior. The problem is that “the enemies” of each fortress church are different. What is seen as normal customs and living for one church is taboo in another. It leads to a confused public, wondering why the gospel of Jesus is qualified in different ways by different folk.

For example, in my growing-up days at a Southern Baptist Church in Kentucky, the men went out for a smoke between Sunday School and the worship service. Most men had a pack of Winstons or Lucky Strikes in their coat pocket and puffed away before praising Jesus. However, if any of those men had a bottle of Jim Beam at home, it would have been hidden in the back of the cupboard. No good and respected man of God would have had a liquor cabinet at home. Our church was fine with the tobacco, but Kentucky bourbon was not tolerated.

As a kid, I could never quite understand why the Methodists were allowed to do certain things, but we Baptists were on the road to Hell for even considering them. To even ask questions such as “How do I know Jesus died for me and wants a personal relationship with me?” or “Why don’t we ever talk about the Holy Spirit in our church?” or “Why is it always a man who speaks on Sunday morning at church, but my mom does most of the talking at home?” was taken like opening wide the gate and letting the evils of the Enemy storm the fortress.

The gospel was fenced with certain codes of conduct and foundational beliefs that were never questioned. They became the identifiers, the qualifiers of one’s commitment level. In some fortresses, the Holy Spirit was on a short leash; in others, grace was guarded. In one tabernacle, an exorbitant number of “buts” were evident. “Jesus died for everyone, but…” “The love of God is available for all, but…” “Missing church isn’t a sin, but…”

It’s as if the gospel alone isn’t strong enough to stand on its own like it needs to be wrapped in bubble wrap and protected by solid barriers. Thus, someone searching for understanding and trying to find out why Jesus loves him is frequently frustrated by the quicksand of the questioning. It has more potential to be a journey focused on appropriate moral conduct instead of a spiritual endeavor. Oddly enough, it can be more about clarifying what can destroy your walk with God rather than how to walk with God or why God longs to walk closely with you.

A few decades ago, I was a part of a congregation that had gone through a split as a result of a charismatic part of the church. The spirit-filled group left with the senior pastor and formed another congregation, while the Mother Church found a new pastor who would be “more normal.” For a number of years after the split, it was as if the Holy Spirit was not welcome in that congregation. The walls had been built up to protect the inhabitants from any contact that even smelled of being spirit-filled. Where the Holy Spirit is not welcome, legalism becomes the law, and where legalism takes root, suspicion tags closely behind. One Wednesday night, Carol and I were leading a youth bible study, and there were moments of laughter as we talked about the scripture and the topic. A few days later, I was confronted by one of the pastors about the fact that the youth had been laughing in the midst of the bible study.

Just as there was no joy in Mudville when mighty Casey struck out, there was to be no laughter in that congregation. It was a defeating moment for me as I tried to figure out what it meant to be a leader in a fortress church. All the things I learned in three years of seminary didn’t fit well in that situation. Fifteen months after beginning, and seriously looking at leaving the ministry, I was rescued by another congregation where it was deemed okay to ask questions about the faith, search deeper, and…laugh!

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That Judgmental Evangelical Church!

March 4, 2019

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                     March 4, 2019

                      

Carol and I sat back and watched an episode of Criminal Minds last night. We can’t keep up with all the recorded episodes we have on our DVR, thus the episode we watched was from last October.

Without going into the plot too much, a woman is killed and the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU) team is sent to investigate. In looking at the way the woman has been murdered, investigating who her friends are, and her routines, they summarize that there is some connection between what has happened and the church she attends.

That’s when the term “evangelical” gets used! She was involved in an EVANGELICAL church. The way it’s said you could almost put in parentheses after it “You know…one of those!” as the person turned to the side and spat!

The next scene has the team interviewing the pastor. His character comes off as self-righteous and judgmental. Envision a pastor with a whip! The viewer immediately does not like him and, after all, he’s the pastor of one of those EVANGELICAL churches! You are given the impression that “fun” is a four letter word for him.

Several other indicators are that he and his church are narrow-minded, critical, ready to shun sinners, and legalistic. They probably don’t even drink root beer!

Such is the general public’s, or at least those in the entertainment world, view of evangelicals! I wouldn’t have been as bothered by the episode if they would have just said “church”, but those who produce the show probably don’t understand what evangelical means.

The term “evangelical” comes from the Greek word “euangelion”, meaning “the good news” or the “gospel.” Thus, an evangelical church focuses on the GOOD NEWS of Jesus Christ.

That good news includes the grace of God, forgiveness, love, acceptance, hope, and peace. 

Some evangelicals, rightfully so, have made a mess of evangelicalism! They’ve reversed the mirror of Jesus. Instead of people seeing the image of Christ in his church they see a bunch of people who seem to have been sucking on lemons too long! I’ll be honest! There are a number of people in churches I’ve served who are about as pleasant as hemorrhoids!

It should not be! “Good News” has become religious rhetoric, and grace has been replaced with guilt. 

One of my closest friends in ministry, Rev. Tom Bayes, recently urged me to write a book about “church stuff”. Tom and I, along with our other clergy friend, Rev. Chuck Moore, spent years serving churches in the Lansing, Michigan area and sharing stories over lunches. There was a lot of laughter in the midst of our burger-munching. I think I’ll take him up on his request. The book, however, will revolve around a pastor who laughs, jokes around with the people of his congregation, enjoys life, and exhibits the Joy of life. AND he will be a pastor who firmly holds to the belief that Jesus is “Good News”!

Maybe I’ll even make him…you know…one of those Baptist pastors!

Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
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The Sound of Squeaky Shoes

August 10, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                         August 10, 2017

                                   

A couple of Sundays ago I was walking up the sidewalk to my sister’s front door. She was trailing along behind me and she said “Your shoes are squeaky.” We had just come back to her home from church and I was wearing my “Sunday-go-to-meeting shoes”.

I hadn’t noticed a squeak until she said that, and then I noticed…yes, they do squeak! Of course, at that point all I could hear for the next few minutes WAS the squeak…every step…every high squeaky octave of their connection with concrete, carpet, or wood.

“You hadn’t noticed the squeak?”

“No, not until you called my attention to it!”

My wife and I have a similar situation at home. I like a fan on at night when I sleep. The coolness and the background noise helps me fade off into a slumber filled with dreams of dunking a basket, eating Vietnamese egg rolls, and winning the Pike’s Peak Ascent…well, okay, not really the egg rolls. I just threw that in there because I’m thinking about them right now! Carol likes quiet at night, meaning no background noise. She hears the sounds, but I don’t! Ironically, during the day if I’m reading I like quiet, whereas she likes the TV on during the day for the background noise. Call us weird, but we’ve been okay with our quirks for 38 years now!

All of us have “squeaky shoes” in our lives that go unnoticed. Being a retired pastor I now have the opportunity to visit other churches besides the one I had spoken at for so long. So I notice things that probably go unnoticed by the “regulars” of that congregation. For example, I notice the usher/greeter who is handing out bulletins to people who are entering the sanctuary for worship and seems like he put a “grouch patch” on that morning. Or how fast people seek to leave the building following the worship service! Or how much “insider language” is used in the worship service! Or if there is a clear understanding as to what families with young children are to do, or are they just expected to know! If there’s coffee available (And you usually know because a few people are walking around with coffee cups in their hands!) is a visitor invited to have a cup of coffee?

Every church has a few squeaky shoes that go unnoticed by the “wearers”, but are revealed to the new “hearers”. New hearers don’t know the history or the circumstances. They don’t understand why a congregation stands and reads the church covenant every first Sunday of the month, or why Baptists are prone to celebrate communion on the first Sunday of each month, or why only men seem to be the ones involved in positions of responsibility but those involved with children’s activities or care are always women?

Some squeaks just are, and others have reasons! Although ‘’squeaks” are rarely based on some kind of doctrine, once in a while a congregation’s “squeak” is the weirdness of the sermon or some kind of issue that the pastor just won’t let go of. There’s a difference between a driving force or a passionate cause and an annoying squeak! Many years ago I remember a pastor chastising his congregation over the fact that the wedding reception of a church family the night before had included alcohol. I got the feeling that he would have been annoyed by Jesus turning the water into wine. Forty years later I still remember the “squeaky sermon” that was excessively guilt-based!

That Sunday I went in and changed shoes right away, taking off my squeaky dress shoes and putting on my Nike’s. There was no squeak, although I always have to check to see if they are leaving a trail of mud. Slinging mud, however, is another issue entirely!

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Humor, Jesus, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized
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The Entitled Church

March 23, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                 March 23, 2017

                       

     A few days ago I wrote a piece on the entitled church attender. I presented the idea that there are a lot of church attenders who mirror one of our cultural themes as they relate to the church. That is, there is a heightened sense of entitlement, and focus on what the church can do for “me”, as opposed to how I can join a community of believers in service and ministry for Christ.

An old friend of mine responded to that writing with another view that got me thinking. Having lost her husband in the last year she experienced a church that seemed to place its needs above her grieving. She had held a couple of positions within the congregation, and it seemed as if the church was more concerned with her continuing on in the work of those positions than it was in her journey of grief.

She was right on! The shoe is on the other foot this time! There are a number of churches who treat their servants like the Borax Mule Team. The focus is on getting things done, as opposed to being a community of believers who lean on others and are available to be leaned on.

We talked about it quite often in my years of pastoring: burn-out! The exhaustion of the saints and the pastor. It seemed that there was seldom good balance; that it was either the pastor burning the candle at both ends, or the twenty percent of the saints who were doing too much. Sometimes it was the pastor who drove “the mules”, and sometimes it was the church leaders who barked behind the pastor like an army drill sergeant!

Rarely were there situations where the rhythm of the saints and the clergy found a healthy balance.

And so my friend finds herself, after years and years of serving, now wondering about the church. Did it consider her to be like middle-management in a corporation? Did it really care for her, or simply care when it was convenient?

Honestly, that scenario has been played out too many times. Sometimes the church even uses the excuse of the Great Commission to minimize the importance of its messengers! “We’re all about Jesus, so put your pity party on the back burner!”

Entitled churches are simply gatherings of entitled church attenders who have control of the reins!

“Hahh, hahh!” says the guy with the whip riding behind the mules.

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Church Going To the Dogs

February 13, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                    February 13, 2017

                     

A few decades ago I remember being on the front steps of our church, First Baptist Church of Ironton, Ohio. An elderly man was coming up the steps just as a dog bounded up the steps past him. The man stopped for a moment and I heard him mutt-er “Dogs going to church!” He climbed a couple more steps and paused once again, and with a grin on his face he said, “Church going to the dogs!”

Recently we discovered a church where people can bring their dogs. The worship service is transmitted on an AM radio station to the cars parked in the parking lot. Some of the cars are occupied with people who have difficulties with crowds or allergic reactions to perfume scents. But many of them are occupied with canines brought to church by their owners. Attenders never have to get out of their car, unless Fido has to relieve himself!

Unique, yes! It’s not my cup of tea, but for some people it obviously works. After all, there was a film a few years ago entitled “All Dogs Go to Heaven!” So, perhaps, going to church is the prequel!

Staying in the car with the pooch has a downside and an upside. The downside is that the attender never enters into “community.” Church is about much more than an order of worship to go through, message to hear, and the offering plate to pass. Being the community of believers is the oft-forgotten part of it. It’s the meshing of lives in the progression of the journey.

The upside is that the dog-loving attender can escape the drama of church that often focuses on the petty and ridiculous. Stay in the car and get spared from the stupid! Let’s face it! Some church folk are more concerned about keeping the carpet clean than they are about people being cleansed!

So…I’m not sold on the dogs-going-to-church idea, but, of course, I don’t have a dog! I might feel differently if Lassie came home to live with me.

What do you think?

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Being the Listening Church

February 5, 2017

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                             February 5, 2017

                                    

In the New Testament letter of James he writes, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” (James 1:19, NIV) The church has, quite often, stuttered its way into deafness. Our loudness has clouded our hearing!

It’s a balance beam position to be in. On one hand the church is called to be the prophetic voice of God, speaking of hope and singing of God’s unwavering promises. And yet, like someone with a box of chocolates, the church has a hard time understanding that there is still a need for moderation, and we blabber all over ourselves.

Give a preacher a pulpit and he will build a church around it! What begins as divine opportunity escalates into an enterprise that we mistake for a movement!

It occurs to me that there are plenty of people willing to talk; even an overabundance of congregations willing to condemn and mandate…no matter their theological leanings. I’m just wondering if the church has lost its capacity to listen? The concern seems to be that if we aren’t speaking we aren’t saying anything, but perhaps if the church recovered its ability to hear that would speak volumes.

In a time of polarized populations, who is committed to keeping their ears unplugged? In a time of verbal venom who will, as James said, “be quick to listen?”

There are people that I avoid conversation with because they seem to be more interested in sharing lengthy diatribes than they are in whether or not I might have a thought. In admitting that I’m also confessing where many of us have holed-up! We reside in the shadows of quiet avoidance, fearful of expressing our beliefs and what it is that we really value.

Can the church regain its ministry of listening? To do so it must recommit itself to the urgency of mutual respect. Can the gathered saints sometimes agree to disagree?

My friend, Greg Davis, who passed away less than four months ago at the age of 41, would often get into political conversations with a woman named Terri Inloes, the librarian at the middle school he taught at. They disagreed more often than they agreed, but they always listened to one another, and they always discussed their views based on a foundation built with mutual respect. Terri recalls the specialness of those conversations and how they deepened their friendship with one another. It is a life story that the church needs to hear and understand.

Honestly, I’ve seen more examples of the contrariness of church people than the potential for peacemaking…and that’s just in reference to how people from the same church treat each other! Being listeners is a hard thing to be for people who are set on destruction!

My recent three weeks of teaching seventh grade social studies revealed a number of things to me. One of those that applies to this area of listening is this: Listening is a commitment, and there are those who refuse to listen because their lips get in the way of their ears!

 

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The Going Into Church

October 2, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                           October 2, 2016

                                    

I’m about to go to Simla on a beautiful Sunday morning and worship and speak to the small gathering of God’s people at First Baptist Church.

Notice my language…”going to!”

In recent weeks I’ve been asking the congregation some guiding questions about who they are and what they are about. Without roping them like calves I’m seeking to lead them to the point where they are “a going church!” In essence I’m seeking to add two letters to their mindset about their church…from “going to” to “going into!”

It’s a challenge that most churches face. I compare it to businesses being mall-based versus amazon.com. Amazon came to me yesterday…on-line…and gave me a free Kindle book which I’ll read on an upcoming vacation. Amazon comes to me. I haven’t been to the mall in about six months. It is to imposing to me…parking, lines, trying to find one thing in the midst of hundreds of things, over-priced food at the mall food court! The last time I went to the mall was to get new “Roundstreet and Yorke” dress shirts at Dilliards during their annual Clearance Sale. It took great shirts that were marked down 50% from the already 60% off price tag to get me to go to the mall.

That is also the mentality of most people about church. It takes a Harvest Festival or a kid’s basketball program to get many folk to go to church. The language of the church, therefore, needs to be shifted to “going into.”

It’s interesting that the first church in Jerusalem, according to Acts 2:46-47, met daily in the temple courts, and they broke bread together in their homes. They had that “church connection” in the temple courts…although it was a bit different than our present day idea of what that means…and they met in the homes of the city. An important part of their faith was spent where people lived.

Last Sunday while I was at Simla my wife visited a new church that just recently launched. It is within walking distance of our home. She knew about it because our area has been saturated with signs stuck into every corner…right next to the “Vote YES for D20 Kids” campaign signs that deal with the new school bond issue. At this new congregation, meeting in a high school auditorium, she was taken back by the dominant point that the pastor was focused on…that if each person invited someone else to come the next Sunday, and someone else new the next Sunday, and on and on…then this new church would be the largest church in the city in a year. He seemed to be fixated on that, which still flowed out of the old mindset of getting people to go to church!

Scripturally, the body of believers…the followers of Jesus are to go into the world. If we trust that God knows what he is doing then we will understand that he will bring people into our lives, or has already brought people into our lives, who we can reflect Jesus to. It doesn’t have to be forced or manufactured. We don’t even have to have a pocket full of spiritual tracts to hand out. Reflecting Christ can simply flow out of our intimacy with Jesus.

It’s kind of like my face at the end of football practice each day. I leave practice and go to the store where I encounter someone I know. My friend says something like “You got some sun today, didn’t you?” I don’t have to say to him, “Did you notice that I got some sun today? Do you know what that means?”

The Going Into Church uses language that flows out of life and relationships. Kind of like what Jesus did!

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