Is Ignorance the Enemy at the Gates?

As we have watched scenes in Afghanistan, it feels very literally like “the enemy is at the gates.” Many of us already feel besieged by COVID. The Coronavirus has caused all of our feelings to be superglued to our sleeves, and we sometimes take ungodly pleasure in taking swipes at the sleeves of others. We have become so easily offended, and offensive. Road rage is rampant. Feelings of “my way or the highway” have turned us against one another. Everybody has an opinion about vaccinations, and devil may care attitudes about what science says. We’re living in a tough time: Hurricane Ida, wildfires out West, earthquakes in Haiti, and the debacle in Afghanistan is a crime against every Afghan interpreter, woman, girl, and the thousands of coalition forces that have suffered to make that country a better place, and ours safer.

It is convincing to me that many of our problems, especially in Afghanistan, are rooted in faulty intelligence. With COVID we could add pride and selfishness, but the primary cause of the decline of our values and morality is plain old ignorance. Every one of us could talk about multiple contemporary subjects where we have displayed wholesale ignorance, and depended on personal opinion or the opinion of others (e.g., the media) more than we should, but here’s just one. Yesterday, esteemed ex-President Jimmy Carter was extolled for his opinion that the practice of homosexuality is okay because Jesus never talked about it. I wish he would do his theological homework before “armchair quarterbacking,” an opinion that he seems to have reached only toward the end of his long life now that it’s become popular and politically expedient.

He, and the rest of us, could benefit from reading the solid exegesis of someone like Dr. John Stott, in his book Same Sex Relationships, or brilliant author and podcaster N.T. Wright, who dives deep on the subject. But, even Tom Wright gives academic deference to what he calls the best short treatment of the human sexuality debate that is found in one of the chapters in former Duke Divinity Dean, Dr. Richard B. Hays’ book, The Moral Vision of the New Testament. These are three well-respected and intelligent scholars who can be very helpful in shaping anyone’s thinking. They have almost nothing in common with either conservative fundamentalists or milquetoast progressives, but provide a fair and balanced perspective. They can provide anchors for your understanding in the face of superficial false teaching.

After all, Jesus may not have technically used the word, “homosexual,” but He certainly defined marriage. In Matthew 19:5-6, Jesus said, “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’ and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So, they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate.” What Jesus said was as clear as a bell!

So, how does Jimmy Carter and many others miss the plain teaching of Scripture? Is it ignorance, or the thinking that if you say something often enough it becomes true? Really, what causes us to be amenable and accepting of behaviors that have been firmly rejected by thousands of years of Christian teaching? Is it our pride, or the influence of the cultural moment? Is it superficial reasoning or Biblical ignorance? Perhaps most of all, is it the inner conflict of observing family and close friends who struggle with same-sex attraction? Which one of these experiential factors is worthy of being elevated to a status equal or better than the Scripture of God? I know it’s difficult and can be complex. I’ve been there, got the t-shirt.

We’ve all been close to people that were or are doing things that we’re convinced isn’t in their ultimate best interest, and isn’t a part of God’s desire for them. In any such case, how do we differentiate between our dear love of someone and our well-founded concern that they’re involved in an unholy pattern of behavior? Well, the ultimate example is always Jesus.

If you’ve had a chance to watch “The Chosen” at all, it’s a great snapshot that this is all exactly what Jesus does so deftly with his disciples, even in their most ignorant moments: he lives a perfect balance of accountability and grace (watch here: http://www.thechosen.tv/app or search “The Chosen” in your app store). I love it! It’s a great reminder that cherry-picking and proof-texting Jesus’ words are never a substitute for who he was, and who he is, as a whole person and as the living God. Trying to confine him to our current cultural standards, mincing the things we claim he did or didn’t say, quoting his famous lines on “love” while neglecting his equal teaching on obedience and righteousness – it all falls short of letting Jesus be his whole self.

My hope is that we can all embody his wholeness, his balance, before our values go down the drain of human history. God forbid that the only people on the planet who promote moral absolutes are the Taliban. Couldn’t there be a movement among Christians who are as fervent about our God and our Gospel, including a holy measure of grace and forgiveness? Can’t we do the hard work of thinking through the tough questions while holding fast to both our love of God and our love of others? I think we can do both, and I believe we must.

Jesus and the Crew

Reflection on Afghanistan, COVID and Leadership

Everything about Afghanistan has confirmed my strong conviction that sacrifice, duty, and leadership count. God bless the families of fallen service men and women who have made the supreme sacrifice and those who have paid the last full measure of devotion. The latest casualties strike at the core of what makes America great because their mission was humanitarian. They were there in Kabul to rescue and evacuate. May their memories encourage us, and inspire us to be like Jesus who gave his all so that we might live, and in life itself was willing to wash the disciples’ feet.  Lord, have mercy, we plead and pray.

Lord, give strength and comfort to all those who have given of themselves in all of our battles, especially against illnesses like COVID, injustice, terrorism and every infraction against the Golden Rule. Help our teachers, parents, nurses, doctors, caregivers, hospice workers, firefighters, police, EMS, first responders, last responders, and, of course, our brave service men and women who serve in harm’s way. All of these are for whom the words of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade,” are eerily appropriate today.

That charge at the 1854 Battle of Balaclava in the Crimean War by the British was heroic, but disastrous because of miscommunication, but they did their duty nevertheless. It reads:

Theirs was not to make reply,

Theirs was not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die.

Into the valley of Death

Rode the six hundred.

Duty, honor, and sacrifice are the by-product of leadership in families, schools, churches, and town halls on up to the highest reaches of government. We are a chain, only as strong as the weakest link, and the crucibles we’ve been facing have proven the mettle of our leaders and found it either worthy or not. The history books are the final arbiters. There will be applause and pundits in the meantime. The best leadership is gauged not by polls, but purpose.

For instance, I have been reading about Brigadier General Teddy Roosevelt, Jr., often called, “The Toughest Man in World War II.” He and his family were keen on purpose. His father was President Theodore Roosevelt of San Juan Hill and Roughrider fame who proposed that prudence demands that freedom-loving people, “Speak softly, and carry a big stick.” President Teddy Roosevelt’s youngest son, Quentin, was shot down and died in World War I. Another son, Kermit, served in World War I and II. Son, Archie, retired from the military after being shot in the knee in World War I, but insisted on coming back for World War II. He served in the Pacific Theater, was wounded again and received the Silver Star with three oak-leaf clusters. Ted, Jr. led the D-Day invasion as a part of the first wave at Utah Beach.

Why so much dedication to fight for their country? Their father, President Teddy Roosevelt, modeled and instilled a mindset of duty and military obligation. So, no wonder Ted, Jr. was the highest-ranking American officer on the invasion beaches. He was warned against it, but he replied that his troops needed him.

One author, K.S. Bruce, sums it up with this account: “Imagine it is D-Day, June 6, 1944, and you are a young private hitting Utah Beach in the very first wave, into the teeth of the German army, against a rainfall of enemy gunfire, artillery shrapnel and gore. You are filled with fear, and there on the beach in front of you, stands an old man. An American brigadier general – bull-frog voiced, pop-eyed, 5-foot-8 inches tall and directing the troops with his cane. Calm as a man can be in combat, he is Ted Roosevelt, Jr. At age 56 with bad arthritis, he had volunteered to be on the landing boats in order to give the young troops reassurance and to arm them with his same fortitude and courage, and he did exactly that. When he realizes he and his men are a mile from their designated drop-off point, he calmly looked at a map while dodging bullets and opined, ‘We’ll start the war from here.’”

Now, how’s that for leadership? In 5 weeks, he would be dead from a heart attack, but not without first leading his men ashore. His own son, Quentin, named after Ted, Jr.’s brother who was killed in World War I, was also in the first wave on D-Day, only to die some time later. How many invasions had this privileged son of a President been in that he, no doubt, could have escaped? Basically, all of them. As a combat officer in the 26^th Regiment of the First Division (The “Big Red One”) during World War I, Ted, Jr. helped lead the Americans into France. In 1941, he was back again to help lead the same regiment in the amphibious invasion of North Africa in World War II. He battled into Sicily, and he was with the Fourth Division at D-Day.

For his bravery on Utah Beach, General Ted Roosevelt, Jr. was awarded the Medal of Honor. His father, President Theodore Roosevelt, also received one for his leadership and bravery on San Juan Hill in the Spanish-American War. They, along with Arthur and Douglas McArthur, are the only father and sons to ever both win a Medal of Honor. Ted, Jr. is buried in Colleville-sur-Mer, France, alongside his younger brother, Quentin, who was killed in World War I. Leadership’s ripple effect spreads far and wide. Its lack does, too.

Oh, how we need leaders today. God help all of those trying to do their best to emulate duty, honor, and sacrifice in our battles both at home and abroad: in classrooms, boardrooms, family rooms, hospital rooms, and in the continued fight against all that is not of God everywhere. May it be said of us, we pray. Amen.

Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., seen in Ste. Mere-Eglise on July 12, hours before he died of a coronary thrombosis. Arthritis caused him to walk with a stick. The 4th Infantry Division commander described him as “the most gallant soldier and finest gentleman I have ever known.” (US Gov)

Reopening after COVID is HARD!

Do you have any frenemies? You know what I mean, family members, friends, or others that just get under your skin? You are friends, but they are just as easily classified as enemies. Passive-aggressive behavior is their specialty. They say things like, “Do you think that color looks good on you?” or “Do you like your hair that way?” Both comments sound innocuous, even helpful, but you know they are really trying to get in a jab under the guise of “speaking the truth in love.”

I like Nathanael-types as in John 2:43-51. Nathanael thought out loud like many of us do and said about Jesus’ hometown, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from Nazareth?” When Nathanael finally meets Jesus, the Lord says of him, “Here is a true Israelite, one in whom there is no guile.” Some Bible translations say, “deceit” instead of “guile.” Either way, Jesus pegs Nathanael’s basic character trait as a straight-shooter, one who isn’t a passive-aggressive flatterer who is a well-intentioned dragon, or a devil in disguise.

Can our world take the truth, or have we created a world where truth gets so massaged that it is hardly recognizable? COVID-fatigue has severely hampered our abilities to be honest with each other. Our lack of Nathanael-like clarity for fear of being labeled or chastised in our hyper-sensitive world has caused us to keep quiet and repress our true feelings. Unfortunately, those repressed feelings come boiling to the surface at some point, and one of the easiest places for that to happen is the church. At first glance, this is a good thing. The church is where we should be able to voice our thoughts without impunity, but, let me tell you, loosening our restrictions has been TOUGH on everybody who works in and with the church! It has become quite apparent that it was easier to shut things down than to open them back up. I had hoped that we wouldn’t have to get back to “normal” in stages or in a piece-meal fashion, but thanks to the powers that be, “Here we go!”

This is all on my mind because we’re so tired as a culture, and our feelings are on our sleeves. Some people haven’t been vaccinated. Some have. Some people can’t get vaccinated due to health issues. In other words, there cannot be a one-size-fits-all plan or strategy for reopening, so can’t we be patient and quit being so “what about me” in our selfish desire to get back to what WE think is normal? Worse is that COVID and reopening our shut-down world has given a megaphone to everyone’s opinions. We live in an age where the squeaky wheels get the grease, and with all that we have been through this year it seems that everybody’s wheels are way louder than a mere squeak. We have taken the autonomy of the individual to an extreme. Everyone’s truth is declared to be THE truth, and if everyone’s truth is THE truth, then there is no truth. It’s really all just opinions and everybody’s got one, and a lot of people have had theirs on full display.

The truth is that only God is TRUTH. I am not the absolute truth, and you are not the absolute truth, so why can’t we all just keep trying to do the very best we can under whatever our circumstances, let God be God, and we all do the right thing as consistently as possible. It could be said that the Golden Rule is an excellent example to follow. However, in our autonomy-worshipping society, even the Golden Rule has been co-opted by free-thinkers and self-absorbed survivalists who don’t give a whit about what’s good for everybody. Our self-interests and so-called “rights” have made us little kings and queens of our own domains. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” has been flipped, reversed, and turned into “What’s good for me better be good enough for you, end of story!”

It is reminiscent of the passages in the Book of Judges (17:6 and 21:25) that are so indicative of our world right now, “Everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” Everybody can’t be right, right? So, how do we determine the best course of action in any given situation? Do we go with our gut, what our friends say, what the media suggests, the advice of sage counselors, or as in the words of the main song in the popular animated film, Frozen, do we just let all boundaries go? Unfortunately, I can hear the echoes of my youngish granddaughters singing “Let It Go!” in perfect pitch. Great, except the self-proclaimed independence it promotes is rubbish. Read this snippet:

It’s funny how some distance makes everything seem small

And the fears that once controlled me can’t get to me at all

It’s time to see what I can do

To test the limits and break through

No right, no wrong, no rules for me

I’m free

To be sure, things turn out better as Elsa mitigates her newfound acceptance of her own autonomy by remembering her family and the community of friends that she has. She realizes that “me being me” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. I sure wish our world and everyone in it, including me, and a boatload of church members would figure that out. We, like Elsa, may discover that our own worst frenemy is ourselves.

Individual autonomy can be helpful for traumatized ice princesses, but not if our independence sinks us deeper into selfishness. That is the prison that our culture is embracing. Isn’t that the root of a lot that’s going on? It can be called such things as sheer selfishness, my way or the highway, or the living out of the words in William Ernest Henley’s Invictus, “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” NO, WE ARE NOT! Jesus is, and His two great commandments, not one without the other, are, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; and love your neighbor as yourself.”

The Cowboy Code Speaks to the Church and Culture

I’ve seen bulls duke it out and butt heads. Goats, too, and it doesn’t take a genius to spot a goat in a flock of sheep, and neither species is very high on the smartness scale. Growing up with a Daddy who had enough auction barns that he ran around 4,000 head a week, plus working in those barns may not have made me a full-fledged cowboy, but it sure made me appreciate good old wild west wisdom. There are lessons to be learned from the things my Daddy used to say whether you are a city slicker or somebody from Africa.

Wisdom is wisdom even when the idiom or words change from one setting to another. What’s going on among some United Methodists who are arguing about progressive and traditional theology is a lot like watching two bulls charge each other trying to establish who’s in charge. You know, trying to establish the pecking order. Isn’t that what’s going on at a lot of levels in our world? It’s like watching a bunch of big-rig trucks play chicken, and waiting to see who blinks first. In many ways, most of this head-butting is quite comical because Jesus is already in charge no matter how poorly we use our free-will, and while we play the game of “My lawyer’s better than your lawyer,” God is either chuckling or crying over our stupidity. The end result isn’t a game of chicken, it’s a demolition derby.

Let me suggest to a COVID-weary, divided, and frustrated world that we could learn a thing or two from cowboy wisdom. For instance, I think I can hear my Daddy say about some of the people who think they know everything, that they are, “All hat, and no cattle.” They can look the part, but can’t back it up. I think there’s a bishop or two in that bunch, and more than a few CEOs, preachers and parishioners, too. A leader without followers is somebody out taking a walk by themselves. In western terms, if you’re riding ahead of the herd, you better look back every now and then to make sure it’s still there.

Only cows know why they stampede, and I know at least one bishop who has poked a bear called the laity, and the stampede is fixing to start. Talk about thinning out a crowd real quick. A lot of preachers with their highfalutin thinking are more liberal than the average parishioner, so those folks in high positions or pulpits better know and appreciate what the herd thinks before things get out of hand. Common sense goes a long way, and people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.

It takes leaders, bishops, pastors and laity of every ilk to work together and do one another’s part to fulfil Jesus’ rescue mission to planet earth, but the first thing you need to do when you find yourself in a hole is to stop digging. Take a breath! If you think you’re so big and bad, try ordering somebody else’s dog around. You’ll quickly find out that you’re not as big as you think you are, so chill. In many a church’s case, most of the flock knows that they need to listen to Jesus before they listen to somebody who ain’t from there, doesn’t know the lay of the land, and has no clue what really matters to the common folk. That’s been the problem with Washington, D.C. for a long time, and too many other places. The people in charge don’t serve their constituency anymore. They are serving their own agenda, much less the Lord.

One of the primary jobs of the cowboy, shepherd or leader of any kind is to protect the herd or flock. It seems to me that the Bible has plenty of safe boundaries on what’s right and wrong. As they say out west and on the farm, “Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.” There’s an addendum that’s just as true, “A wink is as good as a nod to a blind mule.” Because it’s a blind mule, it doesn’t matter whether you wink or nod. You have got to be clear in what you communicate, so we need clarity in this upside down world. Fences need to be horse high, pig tight, and bull strong. And, finally, remember to never squat with your spurs on, or any kind of movement is going to be awfully painful. Let’s take our spurs off, and quit hurting ourselves. Let’s honor God and the Cowboy Code.

Winter Ends, COVID Continues, yet JESUS Wins!

Lent has begun and I’m having a bit of PTSD. No kidding, but aren’t we all? It has almost been a year since this pandemic started. Our last “normal” worship service was March 15, 2020. I remember having hopes of being back in church by last Easter, then spent 5 months preaching to an empty sanctuary pretending to look at invisible people. Things got a little better in late summer when we returned to face-to-face worship, or maybe it would be more accurate to describe it as mask-to-mask with 5 socially-distant services and safety protocols. We did have a Christmas Eve service in the parking lot of the mall engulfed by the rain, but buoyed by the hundreds of carloads of people holding their battery-operated candles. We all claimed the Apostle John’s words, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” We have learned how to be both resilient and virtual in every way imaginable. As one of our staff members put it so aptly, “We’ve been learning to fly the plane while we are building it.” Many of us wish that we had bought stock in Zoom, and here we are in Lent again, but 2021 seems to be 2020 part two. We are weary.

I am weary of the restrictions, the utter flip-flop of doing ministry the way that I have done it for 44 years. Zoom Sunday School works, and I’ve found out that Zoom pre-marital counseling sessions are pretty darn effective. I miss being able to hold the hands of the dying and hurting; visiting people when they need me most in tangible physical real, not cyber ways. I think what is depressing me most right now is the vestiges of spring’s approach. If we were still in the cold, dark wetness of winter, maybe I wouldn’t mind this melancholy so much, but I’m feeling like Bill Murray in the movie, “Groundhog Day.” Everyday is “here we go again,” and it’s not getting that much better. The weight of all the losses, the isolation, and the eradication of what we took for granted and have lost is overwhelming.

Yep, we’re in a Lenten Funk, a COVID extended drama. Garrison Keillor once said that if you were shy, from the Midwest, and Lutheran it is Lent all year-round. With COVID, it doesn’t matter if you’re shy, from the Midwest or Lutheran. The deprivations associated with Lent have become a reality not just for our country, but for the whole world. If ever we needed Good News, it’s now. Maybe that’s a main takeaway for Christians this Lent. We can offer hope that this journey we have been on will end in victory. That’s the message of this season’s 40 days. They end in Easter triumph. It’s the hope of Psalm 30:5, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”

We’re not there yet, though. Times are still tough and we need to remain vigilant, but the cavalry is coming. If we listen hard enough, we can hear the bugle call. The US cavalry and Jesus’ death on the hill named Calvary are on their way. So, we hold on, and we hope. We grasp every bit of Good News that we can and we wait with patient endurance. We foster our faith and cling to the eternal truths of the Isaac Watts’ hymn, “O God, Our Help in Ages Past,” as it summarizes Psalm 90. These words ring truer to me now than they ever have before:

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home!

Under the shadow of thy throne,
Still may we dwell secure;
Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or Earth received her frame,
From everlasting, thou art God,
To endless years the same.

A thousand ages, in thy sight,
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night,
Before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all who breathe away;
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come;
Still be our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

Ponder and look up, google or whatever you need to do to read and/or hear the great hymns and songs of the church that exude faith in tough times: “How Firm a Foundation,” My Hope is Built,” “A Mighty Fortress  Is My God,” “Stand By Me,” “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” “Amazing Grace,” “Great is thy Faithfulness,” “Leave it There,” and finish with a rousing “Lift Every Voice and Sing” as you journey through this seemingly perpetual Lent. Watch the music video of “Worn” by the group Tenth Avenue North and feel the hope. Try the music video by Crowder, “Come as You Are.” God can give us what we need to get through whatever we’re facing. Hang in there and trust the Lord. Amen.

(P.S. Add to the comments your favorite soul-lifting hymns or praise songs that give you strength. Let’s share some Good News with each other!)

Hope Springs Eternal

Schilling’s Bloody Sock the Bridge to History

Due to our COVID environment and political season, there’s a wave of selfishness and pride that is running rampant across the land. COVID has us in survival mode, hunkering down in our bunkers hoarding basic necessities, or daring to claim our personal freedoms at the expense of the common good as we thumb our noses at protection protocols. The essence of many behaviors we see exhibited is unhealthy pride. Self-denial and humility have been sacrificed on the altar of the survival of the fittest. This is a scary place to be as individuals or as a society.

Jesus emptied Himself of his prerogatives. Philippians 2:5 says, “In your relationships with one another have the same mindset as Christ Jesus.” It goes on in subsequent verses to poetically state how Jesus humbled Himself, made Himself nothing, and became obedient even to death on a cross. This is so antithetical to most of our thinking. We’re so caught up in our rights, our wants, and our personal protection that we overlook what’s good for the community. Thank God for the medical personnel, educators, and every helping profession that puts aside self-preservation for the good of others.

It is true that when we take an airplane ride that the flight attendant instructs us to put our own oxygen mask on first before we try to help someone else with theirs, but if we use that as a corollary for every situation, especially during this COVID season, then we are teetering on the edge of an unhealthy focus on self-survival. They don’t pass out Medals of Honor to the selfish coward who abandons his or her comrades and runs away when the going gets rough. They give the highest accolades to the soldier who, without thought of their own safety, jumps on the hand grenade tossed into the foxhole. They give up their life to save others.

We should honor the journeyman sports player who takes a hit for the team, or, without self-regard, carries the team on their shoulders. Think Curt Shilling of the Boston Red Sox who played in Game 6 of the 2004 ALCS with his ankle skin sutured to his torn tendon sheath so he could pitch against the Yankees. Amid enormous pressure, Boston team doctor Bill Morgan made the desperate decision to suture the outside of Schilling’s ankle to the tissue surrounding the tendon in an attempt to hold everything in place long enough for him to pitch Game 6. Blood began oozing out before the first inning, visibly soaking his sock.

That bloody sock still symbolizes self-sacrifice for one’s team. The Red Sox won the series, and went on to sweep the Cardinals in the World Series. Schilling pitched one of those games, too, still barely patched together, and in pain. His “Team-First” attitude brought the world champion title back to Boston for the first time since 1918. I can hear President John F. Kennedy’s words echo, “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.” More importantly, we can hear Jesus’ words to deny ourselves. He did it Himself, and that should be inspiration enough for us to embrace humility and put others before ourselves.

It should come as no surprise that the words “sin” and “pride” both have “I” as the middle, central letter. It’s pride that keeps me looking down on others, and thinking I’m better than others. Have you heard about the unkempt, gruff, smelly cowboy out on the range who became a Christian? He told his bunkmates about it and they insisted that he go to church. It was miles and miles away. He went and came back. His bunkmates asked him how it went. He said that when he got there he parked in the corral. They said, “They don’t call it a corral, it’s a parking lot.” He said, “I didn’t know that.” The cowboy then said he walked up to the front gate of the church. His buddies laughed and said, “That’s not what they call it. They call it a door.” The cowboy said he didn’t know that. Then he said he walked down a long chute. They laughed again and said that church people call it an aisle. He said he didn’t know that. The he said he sat down in a little stall. His friends laughed and said church people call it a pew. He said, “Oh, I did know that because that’s what the lady said when I sat down beside her.” How often do we look down our noses at people and say “Peeww…”? How sad.

As someone aptly said, “The ground is level at the foot of the cross.” No one is better or higher than anyone else. We all need each other. A church is as only as strong if every member shoulders the cross and builds up the Body of Christ. A country, or society, is only as strong as we value what’s best for everybody over what’s best for me.

Immortalizing Your Life

Double standards, no standards, hypocrisy, and selfish narcissism are just a few of the things that absolutely get my goat these days. No one seemingly wants to accept responsibility for their actions, and the inability to say, “I’m sorry!” has left us with enough pent-up anger and frustration that borders on the edge of explosion.

A married couple cooped up for all these COVID months were at each other’s throats. She seemingly was handling it better than her husband, so he asked her, “How do you stay so calm?” She replied, “I work off my anger by cleaning the toilet.” He then asked, “How does that help?” She replied, “I use your toothbrush.”

There’s got to be a better way, and there is. It’s called forgiveness. Though I know that I should forgive, I tend to cling to Matthew 7:6 and its admonition, “Don’t give what is holy to dogs, and don’t throw your pearls before swine.” In other words, don’t waste good things on those who can’t appreciate them. There are a lot of mongrels and sons-of-mongrels out there, and plenty of oinkers and porkers, too, but does it help if I act like a jerk and blast rather than bless, or poison rather than praise?

It’s almost un-American to let go of revenge and anger. That’s why I like the prayer, “May those who love us, love us; and those who don’t love us; may God turn their hearts, and if he can’t turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles so we’ll know them by their limping.” I also like the story of the big bully and the little guy. The big bully tosses the little guy over his head, and says, “That’s judo. I picked it up in Japan.” A second later the big bully whacks the little guy on the back of the neck, and says, “That’s karate. I picked it up in Korea.” Somehow the little guy squirms away and goes out to his truck and comes back in, pops the big bully on the head and says, “That’s crowbar. I picked it up in Home Depot.”

I want to say, “Yes!” because we like reciprocity, that people get what they deserve, that there are consequences to people’s actions. Rather than payback from God; i.e., “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord,” we want to help out! My dad went to see my grandfather to ask for my mother’s hand in marriage. Papa didn’t even turn around and face him. He was stocking shelves in his country store, and kept his eyes on what he was doing. All he said was, “You make your bed. You’ve got to sleep in it.” He was paraphrasing the Bible, “You reap what you sow.”

Problem is, we all deserve punishment. None of us is squeaky clean. If it’s true that if you live long enough somebody is going to do you wrong, then it’s also true that if we don’t forgive them, we’re letting them do us that wrong forever. Forgiveness is giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me. If we stick with, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” there’s going to be a bunch of blind toothless people.

We are writing our epitaph every day. Paul made his life motto very clear from his Roman prison cell, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. (Philippians 1:21)” Is my epitaph, “Don’t get mad, get even?” I hope not, or I’m burning down the very bridge that I have to cross over myself. An epitaph is a short memoir that sums up what we hope people will remember about us. It answers a question that’s hard to answer in our pandemic panic, “What is my purpose in life?”

Epitaphs should be like mission statements. Like passing the T-Shirt test, as in it needs to fit on a T-Shirt, our mission statements should be short enough to be memorized, and long enough to be memorable. What short significant statement will immortalize your personality and passions? What will be on your grave?

There was a southern family who always went on a little road trip on Sunday afternoons. They would seek out cemeteries and let the kids blow off some steam by making a game of finding the oldest tombstone in the graveyard. One of the children yelled out, “Here’s an 1862!” The family gathered around and read this lady’s epitaph, “Ever she sought the best, ever she found it.” There, in 1862, in the middle of the Civil War, when she could have blamed everything on something or someone else, she took the high road and looked for the best and found it. That’s an epitaph worth living!

I want to be remembered for better than what I’ve been exhibiting lately. How about you?

Passive-Aggressive Types and Sweet Revenge

There are a lot of anxious people around. With all of the fear-mongering with the election coming up, there are plenty of upset people. The stock market is diving and the death rate is climbing. Being cooped up together is making some folks absolutely sick of each other. Sending our youth and young adults off to school has everyone in a tizzy, and God bless the teachers to stay safe and calm in the mix. Here’s to hoping that when the clock strikes midnight on December 31, 2020, we can all shout “Hallelujah! We made it!”

But, what if we can’t? What if the other fellow gets elected, or if all the votes still haven’t been counted by the deadline? What if COVID-19 mutates with the flu, and things get worse instead of better? Handling adversity and toxic people is an art. If you’re one of those persons who needs to get a certain amount of continuing education every year, then getting your Ph.D. has been a cinch in 2020 because all of our worries and troubles have been Piled Higher and Deeper this year.

To top it all off, everybody’s feelings are on their sleeves. You can’t seem to say “love” without making somebody mad. Fred Craddock, great preacher and story teller, said that he and his wife Nettie had a neighbor who liked to rain on their parade almost every day. Fred said that the neighbor would read the paper just to see what was on at the theater, and then tell him or Nettie, “I noticed such-and-such a movie is on. Have you seen it?” Fred said that sometimes he’d say, “Yes, and have you seen it?” He said it was then that he discovered that she had sucked him right in to her judgmental negative attitude. Her usual reply was, “No, I haven’t seen it. I don’t think Christians should go to the movies.” Fred said that he and Nettie finally caught on to the fact that, “She got more pleasure out of not going to the movie than we did in going to the movie, and then she doubled her pleasure by indicting us for going.”

Who are the passive-aggressive types trying to rain on your parade? Passive-aggressive folks say something innocuous that almost seems nice, but they trick you and suck you in like Fred Craddock’s neighbor. They ask things like, “Do you think that color looks good on you?” You might not care a whit about the color, but after they ask their question you’ll think about it for the rest of the day. Which kind of critique bothers you more, or does the most harm: the direct attack, or the subtle innuendo of someone who asks, “Do you think your hair looks good that way?”

I prefer direct attacks, but this year has me maxed out. Common decency has gone out the window. It is either uncommon or non-existent. Rage, rioting, and rebellion are rampant. Whatever happened to mercy and forgiveness? Can’t we talk to each other in calm helpful ways? Our current atmosphere is so tinged with negativity that everyone acts like a mudslinging politician, or like the people who are getting rich off their tell-all books that smack of little more than simple revenge.

Ah, revenge! I’m reminded of the story of the three guys who were captured by a group of tribesmen on the Amazon. One was a Frenchman, one an Englishman, and one was an American. The tribesmen told all three that they were going to die, be skinned and their flesh used to waterproof the tribe’s canoes. Out of some tiny bit of mercy, they would let each of the foreigners pick their own method of demise. The Frenchman said, “Poison,” then gulped it down while shouting, “Vive la France!” The Englishman said “Pistol,” and said “Long live the Queen!” The American said, “Knife,” and starting poking holes all over his body, then exclaimed, “Good luck waterproofing your canoe with my skin!”

We would rather hurt ourselves than let somebody else get their way. As they say, “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” in other words when it is least expected and is a surprise. Unfortunately, our society is self-destructing before our very eyes, and we’re inflicting pain on ourselves, even if it hurts us. We may say, “It’s no skin off of me,” when it really is. Instead of serving up revenge, why can’t we all just settle down and do our best to make it to a post-COVID, post-Election, post-whatever-ails-you place where we can all look back and say, “Thank you, Jesus?”

The Best Laid Plans

Cubic Feet per Second or CFS is how people measure how fast the flow of a river is. Thanks to COVID and all of the issues our society is facing, it feels like we’re in a flash-flood, and the CFS is out of sight. This coming week we’re taking our daughter, Narcie, and her husband, Mike, plus their two children, Enoch (13), and Evy (11) on a camping and canoeing trip in the high country of northwestern North Carolina. It will be a grand time, but if the water is running too fast, we may not enjoy things as much as I have planned and hoped for weeks and weeks.

In checking this morning, the South Fork of the New River is running around 1350 CFS. It needs to be below 1000 to be navigable and somewhat safe. It would be even better for fishing purposes if it was running around 450 CFS. We’ll take what we can get, and enjoy the experience as best we can. The best laid plans don’t stand a chance against rain, rivers, and the rigors of camping and canoeing. It is best to be flexible.

Many a time have I checked the waterflow from the safety of home, only to drive 5 hours, and find that a downpour has dangerously raised the speed of the river, and made the water too murky to fish. There are other options like playing chess or other board games under the large picnic shelter, and you can always go into West Jefferson to visit the Ashe County Cheese Company or the Churches of the Frescoes. Here’s the thing, when things are unpredictable and out of your control, you have to be nimble, adapt and adjust. You can’t get your hopes up or set your mind set on one particular set of circumstances or outcomes. Things change.

Someone said that the only constants in life are death and taxes. Another said that change is the only constant. Both statements are correct in their assessment. So, what do you do when life deals you a hand that is not what is expected. You can either fold and give up, or you can roll with it and do the best that you can.

I watched an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” last night as Ray and Deb, plus children, went with his Mom, Marie, Dad, Frank, and brother, Robert, to visit family on the sunny Mediterranean coast of Italy. Ray had talked himself into being miserable before they even left the US. Being around Marie and Frank for a lifetime can do that to you! Ray had the sniffles and was in a foul mood for most of the trip. He didn’t want to be there at all, so he sulked and moped around, until finally he started to appreciate the beauty of the setting. The tide turned in his attitude, though nothing ostensibly had changed at all. He changed, not the surroundings. I needed that episode to face the uncertainty of a well-planned and long-expected trip that may not go like I thought it should or would.

COVID-19 has been our world’s flash flood, and has created all kinds of anxiety. Everything is unpredictable about it. The science has been all over the map. We don’t know if cold weather will make it worse or better. Unlike the river, there’s not even a weather forecast model that we can follow with COVID, but we do have a choice: We can either give into the anxiety and get depressed, or we can pull out those books we’ve been meaning to read, or do those often-thought-about-but-never-done projects we’ve been putting off. As much as most of us like the comfort zone of home, it is good to have some adventure and embrace life however fast the ebb and flow.

So, on Monday we’re headed to campsite #43 (closest to the bathhouse), and we’ll see what happens. At least we will be together. The unpredictability will be a shared experience. We’ll all figuratively be in the same boat, sort of like we all are with COVID. Actually, I hope we will need to rent three boats. Our canoes will either be going down the express lane of a fast river, or we’ll go exploring and let serendipity surprise us. Life is full of marvelous opportunities, and some that are just awful. The difference is often in how we react.

As people of faith, we know that we have a known God in an uncertain world. We have a God in Jesus Christ who dealt with the worst of human fickleness, but kept his face focused on final victory. He had his times of tumult, but no one can say he didn’t roll with the punches. He struggled, but he always kept going. Put on your life jackets, grab your paddles, and go with the flow! Literally!

Human Connections Make for Human Correctness

According to Mark Twain, “Sacred cows make the best hamburger.” Everyone has their own list of what’s sacred and what is profane. That rugged individualism has been exploited by the pandemic and our most base natures. We are now scared of each other right when we need each other the most. Our divided world has been further fragmented because of COVID-19. We can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on anything.  Politics, religion, and whether or not to defund or defend the police, wear a mask or not, and an assortment of other issues have further removed us from an essential characteristic of being human: community.

Our society is splitting into camps that are pro and con on almost everything. President Trump can’t use the word “love” without people hating him for it, and Joe Biden can’t say the word “compromise” without offending the ultra-progressives. This pandemic has made utterly clear that red and blue don’t make purple. Our divisions have made red states redder, and blue state bluer. When we need each other the most, we are the most divided.

Not only have we given up on common decency that respects differences of opinion, we have also given up on the ways that we human beings have been made in the image of God. The moral image of God that promotes the ability of human beings to discern the difference between right and wrong has been tossed out the window. The bigger casualty of the pandemic has been what we’ve done to the social image of God. The moral image has been so shot to hell so much that there seems to be no way to decide if protesters are or are not more important than law enforcement, whether or not statues are history or racism, or if anyone in the news media speaks the unvarnished truth without bias.

Frankly, we better find a way to reflect God’s social image if we want to have any chance of resurrecting the moral image. Recapturing the moral image of God, where we might actually have the ability to agree to disagree, is totally connected to our appreciation and application of the social image of God. The social image in us finds its source in the personhood of God. If God lives in the community that we call the Trinity, then, surely, we need one another, too. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are three persons that are distinct, yet indivisible. Unlike our country’s purported motto, e pluriblus unum, “Out of many, one,” God actually lives up to the billing. There is oneness in God at the same time that diversity is also honored. When you see Jesus doing something, the Father and Holy Spirit are right there, too. It’s the same with any action of each member of the Godhead. It should be the same with us. We should be distinct, but indivisible, but we’re nowhere near this reality, and the pandemic has only made it worse.

We have gone from a melting pot mentality to a salad bowl one with the cucumbers in one place, the tomatoes lumped together, and the different types of lettuce are each relegated to their respective places. This is our world right now. To make things worse, we cannot even have fellowship with one another except through Zoom, or as we practice other means of social distancing. I’m getting used to teaching a Sunday School class by Zoom, but preaching to people where their faces are half covered up causes emotional connections difficult to make. I know people are ministering to one another through social media and porch drop-offs, but there is a deep longing for human touch that has gone woefully lacking. No doubt, we don’t need to start hugging and high-fiving on Sundays, but we desperately need to find a way to recapture the social image of God in our corporate lives. That, in and of itself, is the problem. Our corporate lives have been obliterated.

How do we promote a corporate life in this climate? I’ve seen videos of people who have constructed family hugging booths where grandparents from out of town can visit their grandchildren and hug on one another through a plastic sheet that has open-ended appendages securely attached for arm insertion. I’ve seen folks kiss on windows against the pressed lips of an isolated loved one. It’s not the same, but it’s better than nothing. The bottom-line, we need to do whatever we can to stay socially connected, in spite of our differences. We will not be able to come to any consensus of what’s right and wrong; i.e., the moral image if we can’t connect with one another socially. Human connections make for human correctness!

Please look for ways this week to connect. Be safe and creative. People are dying on the withered vine of emotional cut-offs and the lack of physical touch. We weren’t made for this kind of life. Thank God that Jesus clarified where all this pain and angst is coming from. John 10:10 gives us Jesus’ assessment of this very succinctly: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

So, we pray, “Lord, please give us a vaccine to kill this virus so we can emotionally and physically reconnect. The fabric of our lives, country, culture, and world depend upon your healing us. Let it be soon; in Jesus’ name. Amen.”