6 Things

I’ve been in a blogging drought lately.  If good intentions counted for anything, I’d be on my second or third book by now.  But, they don’t, so I’m not. 

To break the dry spell, I’ll hit each of the 6 topics in the masthead – family, faith, politics, current events, career, and outdoor adventures. 

Family first.  As it should be.  On Sunday we took our 3 girls up to Pennsylvania for two weeks of summer camp.  We couldn’t be any more pleased with this camp.  The girls love it, and have a wonderful experience there every year.  That said, while they are away my thought patterns tend to run something along the lines of how-are-they-doing-what-are-they-doing-will-there-be-any-letters-in-the-mailbox-today-how-many-days-before-we-pick-them-up.  I should really be a joy to be around in 3 years, when our son is old enough to join them.

Faith.  There’s an interesting flap brewing between James Dobson and Barack Obama. It seems that Dobson has taken issue with a 2006 Obama speech in which Obama pointed out that Leviticus suggests that slavery is acceptable but eating shellfish is sinful. Obama also noted that Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount isn’t exactly in line with Defense Department policy. Expect finger pointing and mischaracterizations to ensue – on both sides.

Politics. Obama has asked his contributors to help Clinton retire her campaign debt. Sorry, no can do.

Current Events. George Carlin’s passing over the weekend reminded me of going over to my neighbor’s house to listen to his new Class Clown album. As the album was released in 1972, this meant that I was somewhere in the neighborhood of 9 years old at the time. Suffice it to say that my friend’s parents ran a somewhat looser ship than mine did.

Career. I learned today that a former colleague has moved his family to one of the area’s most exclusive country club communities. His reputation, at least when I worked with him, was that of a mediocre performer who exceled at playing the corporate game. I’d like to be able to congratulate him on his success and move on, but this is going to take some time to digest.

Outdoor Adventures. I sent out my annual email to organize a whitewater rafting trip to the Gauley River. I have a talent for making things more complicated than necessary, and I did a bang-up job this time by inviting input on changing some of the aspects of the trip. I wish I hadn’t opened that Pandora’s box because predictably, responses are all over the map. It’s hard enough to find a weekend that suits everyone; I can’t imagine what possessed me to add additional variables to the mix.

Well, that’s it. All 6 topics covered. I’ll try for a less disjointed post next time.

What is a Baptist?

I am a Baptist.  I was born into the Baptist church, I made a profession of faith and was baptized when I was a teenager, and my family and I spend our Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings with a warm and loving Baptist community of faith that has a heart for authentic worship and needs-based ministries. I value the traditional Baptist distinctives of soul competency, church autonomy, the priesthood of the believer, and the separation of church and state. Being a Baptist is a part of my identity, and I do not apologize for it.

However, there are those who feel that I should.  For them, “Baptist” is a pejorative label.     

In the recent New Baptist Covenant convocation in Atlanta, John Grisham explained why this belief exists. He also explained why it is important for critics not to paint with too broad a brush. Watch this video. Then move on to Jimmy Carter’s, and Tony Campolo’s, and William Shaw’s. Even Bill Clinton’s.

You just might find that “Baptist” does not mean what you think it does.

The Big One

Have you ever had a worry that nagged at you night and day, never completely leaving you, to the point where it colored your entire perspective on life?

And have you ever found out later that the worry was completely baseless?

I have. 

If you have as well, read this.

Lock-In

As I write this, my 13 and 11 year old daughters are at a “lock-in” at our church, along with a couple dozen other middle and high schoolers.  It’s nearly 3:30 a.m. and I’m up at this insane hour because I just got back from helping chaperone for several hours.  Everyone was still going strong when I left, and all were having a great time. 

I’ve always respected those who are gifted in youth ministry.  The energy, creativity, and patience required is formidable.  I’m thankful that we have two youth ministry interns who seem to have what it takes.  I sure don’t! 

I know I’ll be dragging tomorrow, but I can only imagine how my girls are going to be once the sun comes up and the sugar-soda-excitement rush wears off.  Oh well, we’ll all muddle through.  I’m just so grateful that they have this youth group to bond and grow with as they find their way in this very complicated world.  I feel badly for kids who aren’t so fortunate.

Last PACEM Post

My Sunday School class* had dinner duty for PACEM last night. A couple class members did the shopping (for 60 people!) on Sunday afternoon, a couple more spent most of Monday doing the cooking, and then the entire class, most of whom had their young children in tow, showed up at church on Monday evening to set up and serve. Everyone was eager to help out, as evidenced by my youngest daughter wielding a jello ladle in each hand.  How’s that for multitasking?

Several snippets of conversation that I had with our PACEM guests have stuck with me:

 

The man who, after meeting my youngest daughter, proudly told me that his own daughter would be turning 1 on Saturday.  I didn’t ask for details, but a tinge of sadness colored his fatherly pride.           

The man who took me aside to tell me that one of our church members, who was at a nearby table playing UNO with several PACEM guests and two of my daughters, was “the best lawyer in town.”  I knew from my experience as an attorney that he was right.

The man whose eyes lit up while watching my 3-year old son and his friends play with their Matchbox cars, and recounted his long ago and far away boyhood memories of his own extensive Matchbox car collection.  I imagined that little boy of 40 years ago, and wondered about the bumps in the road that he had encountered in the years since.   

There but for the grace of God….

*My Sunday School class is called the Kairos class.  “Kairos” is Greek for “the appointed time in the purpose of God”,“ the time when God acts.  Appropriate for last night, I think.   

PACEM Overnight

My Dad and I shared a good experience last night, staying overnight at our church as volunteers with PACEM’s rotating homeless shelter program.

Our PACEM coordinator has done a great job of orchestrating the many dozens of volunteers to cover the three shifts of the program every night for two weeks: (1) dinner (buying, preparing, and serving), (2) activities (mainly a ministry of presence – simply being there with the men for a few hours after dinner – talking, watching tv, playing cards, etc.) and (3) staying overnight and setting up breakfast the next morning.  Although I was on the third (overnight) shift, I arrived a bit early, with my four kids in tow, to spend some time with the men.

My kids wanted to be there - PACEM’s been going on for a week at our church, and they’ve been there a couple of times already.  My wife is coordinating laundry efforts for the  two-week session so has been checking in almost daily, and there’s also this thing about us feeling the need to be at the church whenever the doors are open….  Anyway, it wasn’t the kids’ first experience with the men.  They watch tv with them, keep score during their card games, and share in the plentiful snacks and hot chocolate that is made available.  Last year one of the men showed them some magic tricks – they were disappointed that he’s not one of our guests again this year.  Some of the men really seem to enjoy their presence.  The innocence of childhood isn’t something that most of them get to see too much of, I imagine.

After a couple of hours, we bundled up the kids and my wife took them home.  Lights out wasn’t until 11:00 pm, but by 10:00 most of the men were already asleep in their cots or headed that way.  My Dad and I watched the rest of a movie with the few remaining nightowls, shut things down at 11:00, did some prep work for breakfast the next morning, and were in our sleeping bag by 11:30. 

The alarm on my cell phone went off at 5:00 a.m., and I wasted no time getting up and out to the Fellowship Hall where the men were staying.  Their official wakeup call wasn’t until 5:45 a.m., but I knew from my overnight shifts the last couple of years that there would be some who were already awake, up and on their second or third cup of coffee.  Fortunately I hadn’t botched the coffee again this year.  Last year I had filled up the 50-cup pot with water and placed the foil packets of coffee in the filter, so all the PACEM staffer would have to do was open the packets, pour the coffee into the filter, and plug it in.  He plugged it in, but didn’t realize that the foil packets hadn’t been opened yet.   Whoops.  Coffee doesn’t exactly brew when it’s still in the foil packet.   Imagine having to tell several dozen homeless men who were eagerly lined up at the coffee pot that it held 50 cups of hot water and that it was going to take another hour for the coffee to brew.  Fortunately I had been able to scrounge up enough instant coffee to make do, but I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

Sure enough, a half dozen were already up and about.  The coffee was flowing, Dad and I brought out the pastries, milk and orange juice, and the men startled cycling through the line.  A few wolfed down some food, grabbed the sack lunch that had been prepared for them, and headed off into the pre-dawn dark.  Some had jobs to clock into.  Others may have just been anxious to hit the streets. 

Not all were as eager to leave.  For many of them, the next stop would be the Salvation Army, which offered a hot breakfast, and after that they might seek the warmth of the downtown library.  After a day spent there, or in the park across the street, they would convene once again at the PACEM intake center, to start the process again. 

From a distance, it’s easy to be judgmental about these men.  It’s considerably less so once you have spent time with them, learned their names, traded small talk, played a round of spades,  or stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them at the bathroom sink while brushing your teeth.               

      

Invisible

My church is one of several dozen local congregations participating in a social ministry serving Charlottesville’s homeless population: PACEM (“People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry”).  Each winter, these churches open their doors to the homeless, rotating weeklong shifts to provide food and shelter to 20-40 homeless men.  For the men, PACEM provides the basics that anybody reading this probably takes for granted – a safe, warm place to sleep, a hot meal, laundered clothes, and a shower.  Beyond these basics, it also provides the men with something more intangible but no less important than food and shelter - an acknowledgment of their humanity. 

A few of the men might be recognizable as the panhandlers that we occasionally bump into around town, but most are not.  Many of them have jobs, although they obviously earn less than a living wage.  Their education level varies, but most have at least a high school diploma or G.E.D., and a few have college degrees.  Many struggle with addictions or other mental health issues.  The one common denominator, apart from not having a place to call “home”, is that they are all used to being invisible. 

Some have their invisibility thrust upon them.  These are the men who look the part of the homeless - the panhandlers, the ones who seek shelter under bridges, in illicit campsites, or in abandoned buildings.  The ones like the man who was found dead a few years back behind the dumpster at my office building, laying in a bed of flattened cardboard boxes.  We make them invisible by pretending that they aren’t there.

Others seek to be invisible because they don’t want to stand out.  These are the men who have jobs, or at least want to have jobs.  They may have found themselves homeless because of poor choices that they have made, or their situation may be due to circumstances beyond their control.  Whatever the cause, they want something better for their lives, something normal.  In the meantime, they don’t want to call attention to their situation.   

Regardless of whether their invisibility is self-imposed or thrust upon them, when the bus drops them off at our church for dinner at 6:00 p.m., they are there.  There is no hiding their existence or their circumstances.  There is also no denying their humanity, and it is in acknowledging their humanity that those of us doing the serving receive as great a gift as we give.

I’ll be spending the night with our PACEM guests tomorrow night.  While I will miss time away from home and family, I am grateful for the opportunity to put Matthew 25:40 into practice.

An Adequate Response

Saddam Hussein has been executed.

His case is one of those that tests my opposition to capital punishment. The man was a monster responsible for murder, torture, and crimes against humanity that are beyond comprehension. If anyone ever deserved to die, Saddam did.

But I keep coming back to the wisdom of my 13-year-old daughter. “It doesn’t make sense to kill someone to show that killing is wrong.”

Somehow “yes, but he deserved it” just doesn’t seem like an adequate response.

Hypocrisy

I’m making some assumptions here, but imagine that you were caught leading the secret life that Colorado Springs evangelist Ted Haggard has apparently been leading – buying meth from a gay masseuse/escort and allegedly employing him for other services as well. It would no doubt cause incredible shock and heartache for your family and friends. However, even if criminal charges were pressed, it would have to be a slow news day for the sordid details to warrant even a brief mention in the press.

Now imagine the same scenario, except that you are a public figure – an elected official, for instance, or a prominent civic or business leader. The story would make the news, it would be the source of water cooler conversation for a day or two, and it would likely cost you your career. But then some other scandal would erupt, and as long as you stayed out of the public eye, the public’s attention would turn elsewhere.

Now imagine that you’re Ted Haggard.

Or Jim Bakker.

Or Jimmy Swaggart.

Because of who they are, what they say, and whose work they claim to be doing, their sins make the news. They make the blogs. They become fodder for late-night comedians. Their dirty laundry is laid bare for the world to see, and it becomes ingrained in the public consciousness.

And how do we react? Christians, likely feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and disillusionment, will squirm and try to distance themselves. Atheists will smugly use the salacious details as further ammunition for their assertion that all Christians are hypocrites.

And the atheists are right. All Christians are hypocrites. All people are hypocrites. But the atheists are wrong when they point to individual hypocritical Christians as the basis for invalidating all of Christianity. Fortunately, Christianity is not about Christians. Christianity is about Christ. And Jesus is the only One who has perfectly lived what He has preached. The rest of us, whether we stand behind a pulpit or not, are going to fall short. All of us – Christians and non-Christians alike – would do well to remember that.

Caught in the Middle

Christian Democrats (no, it’s not an oxymoron) find themselves caught in the middle – on one side fending off the Religious Right’s efforts to lay sole claim to the “Christian” label, and on the other side struggling with secular humanists’ attempts to remove any hint of Christianity from the “Democrat” label.

Senator Barack Obama took the latter to task yesterday, urging his own Democratic Party to “acknowledge the power of faith in the lives of the American people.” As reported on CNN.com, Obama noted the influence of his own Christian faith, and contended that “secularists are wrong when they ask believers to leave their religion at the door before entering the public square.” Preach it, Senator.

I was going to post some similar thoughts for the benefit of the folks on the other side of the aisle, but came across a blog posting that said it as well or better than I could. Read and heed.

Oh, and if you want to order the bumper sticker, here’s how.