Change

Can These Bones Live?

 Were you ever part of starting something new? Maybe it was a club, or a business, or a Bible study, or even a church. You remember when there was so much energy and excitement around that new idea? You were not yet afraid of taking a risk, trying something different or thinking creatively. It was new! You were not yet burdened by policies and procedures, rules and regulations, or traditions and rituals. Not that these are bad. Each serves an important purpose. What is house without walls? What is a game without rules? So why do we lose interest when the new thing suddenly becomes an old thing? Better yet, why does the new thing become an old thing so quickly today? Here’s my guess: we are more energized by imagining the future (what could be) than by dwelling on the past (what was). We are even more energized by imagining the future than by thinking about the present (what is).

Rapid change is the new normal today. The structures we built that were life-giving yesterday, quickly become obsolete today. And it is hard to keep up, especially for the Church, which doesn’t change willingly or easily. Change is scary. The future feels unpredictable and uncontrollable. We find ourselves looking to the past for answers, for what worked back then; but they don’t fit today’s questions. I think that’s the struggle in Ezekiel 37:3, when God asks, can these bones live? Can what feels dead live again? Can what feels old be renewed? Can real change come in the lives of Christians and the in the Church? Yes! But, change is scary. Change is risky. Change is different. But isn’t that what energizes us about starting something new?

Pastor Leonard

Growth

A Season of Mystery

My four-year-old son, Jack, and I love our father-and-son Saturday projects. We recently planted grass-seed in the bare spots of our yard. I scattered while he poured all one-million seeds in the same spot! Next, we covered the seed with a generous amount of top-soil, which he especially enjoyed. Then, when the weather turned cold, rye shot up like new hair . . . in most places. I ran out of top-soil and left the seeds on one side of the house bare, exposed to the elements. No “new hair” there. By the time I covered them, some seeds had blown away. The rest lay cold and dormant – yet, still full of potential. And my thoughts turned toward Advent. 19^th century preacher, Charles Spurgeon, wrote: “Can you make a seed germinate? You may place it under circumstances of damp and heat which will cause it to swell and break forth with a shoot, but the germination itself is beyond you. How is it done? We know not. . . . Life is a mystery; growth is a mystery; ripening is a mystery . . . Certainly, this is true of the rise and progress of the life of God in the heart.” We are powerless when it comes to making a seed grow. But we can prepare the conditions for growth. Advent is like this for me. John the Baptist preached: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” Advent is for preparation. We cannot manufacture the Christmas “Spirit.” We cannot make it grow or speed it up. Yet, we can prepare the conditions for it, such as reading Advent Scriptures, taking time to reflect on the meaning, opening your heart to new possibilities, and worshiping with your church family. Growth is God’s. Ours is preparation.

Happy Advent and Merry Christmas

Pastor Leonard

Duplicate

Recently, I was writing a newsletter article (this one) and was  reminded that Jesus commissioned us, his disciples, to duplicate ourselves.  The newsletter article was only one of about 225 printed and mailed. The original took hours, perhaps days, of work producing content and determining lay-out. But, once the original was complete, the process of duplicating it was done in mere minutes! Consider for a moment how the quality of duplication has improved. Remember the old mimeograph?! Today, the quality of printers makes it virtually impossible to distinguish the original from a copy! That’s the point: we Christians have been charged to duplicate ourselves: “Go now and make disciples,” he says to his disciples in Matthew 28. That is, “Disciples, make disciples.” I realize that’s an awfully simplistic analogy. Unlike reproducing by machine and on paper, duplicating disciples takes much more time and is wholly more complex. We will never be exactly like Jesus, and no two disciples will look exactly alike. Even so, the idea is that we “copies” become as much like our “original” as possible; and in the process, we “make” more. Jesus doesn’t need more people that resemble a thirty-year-old, first-century, Middle Eastern man like himself. His commission is that we make more of those who demonstrate his qualities and characteristics – specifically: giving attention to the poor and to the outcast, and living a life of sacrifice and service. Jesus was a servant leader, and his life was the model for us, his disciples – he is The Original. The questions to ask: How might I live in a way that is virtually impossible to distinguish myself from that life? And how might I, his disciple, make more?

Pastor Leonard

Nothing to Fear

As I write, Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke is preparing for a rare press conference, in which a word or phrase, or even a gesture, may have the power to move financial markets. In these anxious times, everything from the Fed Chair’s choice of words to his facial expressions, his attire and even his posture could affect global markets! Imagine the power and influence of one who not only makes predictions about the financial future, but whose color of suit could actually change the mood and behavior of economies around the world!

At Easter, we celebrated one whose words of hope and life of love 2000 years ago, still have that kind of influence. When asked what the future holds, Jesus demonstrated by overcoming the sources of our anxiety. I hope for a brighter future, a stronger economy, and a cure for cancer. These are good hopes. But Christian hope isn’t mere wishful thinking. We don’t say, “I hope that God will destroy the forces of anxiety.” We say defiantly to those forces, “God has already destroyed you!” In the cross and empty tomb, we’ve already seen what “tomorrow” holds – and there is nothing to fear.

1 Peter 1:3 tells us that, in the resurrection of Christ, we are given a new birth into a living hope. Knowing the future – how it will all turn out – what might you do differently for God, what risks might you now take for God. We have a lot of good hopes, but many are built on fears – fears of failing, fears of losing, fears of dying. As those with a living hope, we may have confidence and certainty that the God who overcame our fear of death, will also overcome our fear of living.

Pastor Leonard

Easter Memory

“If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?”

Lately, I’ve become enamored with learning about my family history. I joined an online ancestry service and plunged in piecing together the puzzle of names and dates. You see, I don’t know the names of my ancestors earlier than my great-grandparents. My family’s origins are a mystery to me, and, in addition to solving the mystery for myself, I feel I owe it to my son, to pass down “the story” of where and who we came from. One man has traced the Ezell family in the states back to a French Huguenot in the 1600s. Maybe we’ll discover something to be proud of; or maybe we’ll discover “skeletons” that we aren’t. That’s the risk. But it’s more than identity that I’m after . . . it’s memory. I heard Fred Craddock once say something like, “If you don’t remember what happened before you were born, then you’re a spiritual orphan.” He means, I think, that if we are ignorant of our spiritual origin and of the people who make up our spiritual line, then we are cut off – spiritually speaking. That’s why, we observe the season of Lent and plunge into the puzzle of names and stories of Jesus’ family – our spiritual ancestors – not of “flesh and blood,” but those who do the will of God (Mark 3). Ultimately, we want to know who we are and what difference it makes to be of Christ. Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter services are about memory. We need to hear these stories about our “ancestor,” because, who knows? By waking up at a “different time, in a different place,” we may wake us as different people!

Happy Easter!

Pastor Leonard

Please Don’t Ruin It for Me

I attended the first meeting of the New Baptist Covenant in Atlanta back in 2008. About fifteen-thousand of us Baptists (and I imagine a few non-Baptists) showed up for the event. As a regular assembly/ convention/ meeting attender, I have learned not to get my hopes up too much. Many of these mega-meetings set lofty agendas and promote admirable themes, but fail to deliver on their promises. So I curbed my enthusiasm and checked my unfettered optimism at the door.

I am glad to report that I was not disappointed. Well, I was disappointed that our Southern Baptist brothers and sisters chose not to accept the invitation. Then again, I expected it. You can’t make someone play ball if they don’t want to. But that does not mean the game gets canceled.

The meeting was advertised as having the purpose of uniting all Baptists in order to accomplish Kingdom of God work collectively. Uniting all Baptists was a tall order in and of itself. Working together will be, too! Baptists are notorious for dividing and excluding, so it was refreshing to find myself among thousands of people from many branches of the Baptist tradition that chose to unite instead. It’s true, we can accomplish more of the commission of Christ through partnership and cooperation than we can by isolation and competition.

There was a feeling of genuine unity in the worship services that weekend. As I sat among the most diverse collection of Baptists in my life, I truly believed that this initial meeting was the impetus for greater things to come for the tradition and its mission. Maintaining momentum would be critical. We are up against decades and decades of division and fighting – it’s what we know best. But the New Baptist Covenant is a good start. Old habits die hard, but old habits can die! And as we know well, when established religion becomes too established, it’s time for something new, albeit painful, to be born.

Unfortunately, there are always some “party-poopers,” naysayers that set out to distort and spin the story in a negative light. There always will be critics – and that’s not a bad thing. We need to critique our motives, intentions, purposes, etc. by keeping them in “the light.” But criticizing is not the same as creating misperceptions and lying – and that is what many did.

Following a moving and powerful worship service the first night, my friends and I lingered to continue the conversation, lifted and inspired by the hope and vision we had just encountered. Suddenly, there appeared a Fox News reporter who requested an interview. She began her question something like this: “A lot of people claim that the real motive behind this gathering is political. Are you a Republican or a Democrat?” I refused to feed the distorted story being spun. She asked others in our group, who responded likewise. She was clearly frustrated that she wasn’t getting a “story” for the 10 o’clock slot. Finally, one in our group spoke. She gave an answer, but she didn’t answer her question. Instead, she simply restated the true purpose of the meeting.

I don’t recall what she said exactly, but it was not far from what Dr. Bruce Prescott, Chair of the Steering Committee for the New Baptist Covenant Midwest Region, writes:

The New Baptist Covenant is a commitment by more than 20 million Baptists in North America to fulfill our “obligations as Christians to promote peace with justice, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to shelter the homeless, to care for the sick and the marginalized, welcome the strangers among us, and promote religious liberty and respect for religious diversity.” It is also a reaffirmation of our “commitment to traditional Baptist values, including sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ and its implications for public and private morality” . . . While many of the issues we face have political connotations, we insist that partisanship has no place in our meetings . . . we represent neither the Democratic, nor Republican, nor Libertarian, nor any Independent political party.

The Midwest Region’s theme is Building Bridges. The meeting is August 7-8 in Norman, OK.  I’m still not sure what the legs of the New Baptist Covenant will look like in the near future, how well we will accomplish our mission, or even if the momentum will continue. I have learned, though, to be more hopeful. This time, I’m bringing my unfettered optimism with me!

But for those that want to make it a political event – please, don’t ruin it for me.

Spilled-Tea Grace

Lately, I have been musing on the grace and mercy of God, about which the writer of Ephesians preaches in chapter 2. Though I am not married to it, I tend to follow the lectionary when preparing weekly sermons. It keeps me from gravitating too much to the areas of the Bible with which I am comfortable, and helps me with having more intention as I preach through the year. The epistle options these days are from the letter to the Ephesians.

When I choose to preach from an epistle, such as Ephesians, I try to remember a general rule: don’t over-explain! We preachers do a lot of damage by over-describing and over-explaining a text, rather than allowing our listeners to experience it for themselves, trusting them with grasping its truth and making application. These days, we’d do better to point at the text rather than talk about it – “overhear” it rather than spoon-feed it.

Preparing to preach about the grace and mercy of God, I remembered a marvelous, true story, that my father-in-law, Dr. Paul Simpson Duke, once shared with me; a story that has made its way into his own sermons. Some of my parishioners have requested a copy of it – maybe you’d like to hear it, too.

Spilled-Tea Grace

True story. It’s told by the child of a Methodist minister.

His family was hosting a dinner one day. It was to be a formal dinner. His mother was one of those people who thought special occasions should be flawless, who plans for weeks, days and days ahead, considers every meticulous detail, wants everything just perfect, and who, if anything goes wrong, becomes frustrated to pieces.

It’s the Sunday of the Methodist Church annual revival, and the guest for dinner was the revival preacher, a very important person. His mother wanted dinner to be perfect, of course. She had beautiful rolls, relishes, a roast, flowers, crystal, all laid out so elegantly on a beautiful tablecloth.

She was the mother of four children: a boy who was 4, a girl who was 8, a boy who was 12, and a boy who was 16. Well, children that age don’t always do well at such formal occasions. They were really tired of waiting to eat, still dressed in their Sunday clothes, nervous, hungry, and fidgety. It takes a long time to lay out a spread like this. And did I mention that the children were fidgety? Finally . . . “Dinner!”

They were very excited to eat . . . but, first, the minister was asked to pray and, of course, he prayed a long prayer. When he finished the prayer, all the children reached for food at the same time!

Joanne, the 8 year old girl, reached for sugar because she was so thirsty, and in a hurry to get some tea, knocked over her glass, which was full. At almost the same time, the 4 year old knocked over his tea as he rushed to get his glass. Now there are two glasses poured out, sopping through the most elegant tablecloth. Tea is aggressive – as you know – it wants to find your lap! Well, this dinner was quickly becoming less-than-formal.

The mother – tense, embarrassed, angry, ready to hash her daughter’s hand – catches her husband’s eye. And when he had her full attention, he deliberately reached his hand over and spilled his tea. Nobody at the table had ever before seen a grown man spill his tea on purpose. The 12 year old and 16 year old thought that looked like a lot of fun, so BAM, BAM, they spilled theirs. Now there are 5 glasses of tea sopping through the tablecloth running after everyone’s lap.

The mother can’t believe it. The guest minister can’t believe it – he’s never had so much fun. He giggles and knocks his over. Now there are about 6 glasses of iced tea down and about 33 ice cubes decorating what used to be a lovely, elegant, linen, tablecloth. But more than the mess on the table there is tension in the air because the woman at the end of the table looks like she is about to explode! Her eyes are wide, her jaws are clenched, she looks at her husband and he winks at her. And she says, “Oh, what the heck!” BAM, and lays down her iced tea.

Everyone at the table burst into howling laughter. They held their sides. The mother was laughing so hard, she had to lean over on the 16 year old to keep from falling out of her chair. They laughed and laughed and then stopped laughing one by one as they noticed 8 year old Joanne, who had great big tears rolling down her face, sliding across her grin, as she looked at her father. The little girl was looking with adoration toward a loving father, who had done something very foolish . . . and very wise. He had done something not unlike the very foolish and very wise thing Jesus did.

“This mess you’ve made, I’m going to make it my mess, too. And if anybody’s going to get you for this mess, they’re going to have to get me, too.”

Just Don’t Say It

It seems to me that we have pretty small imaginations. Would you agree? How many times have we made ourself smaller and more insignificant by saying, “I can’t do that because . . .?” Or when have we been guilty of issuing a related charge toward another: “She can’t do that because she’s . . .” or “He’s not qualified because he’s . . .” or “That church is too small to do that because they’re . . .?” Yes, I am aware that we have our limitations. I’m 5’8″ tall with a good shoe-heel. My expectations for dunking a basketball on a regulation-high rim are rather low. But what if I never allowed myself to dream of dunking a basketball?

Seems to me we live in the tension between self-limitation and having a larger imagination. On the one hand, we have to come to terms with our limitations if we are to be mature persons. On the other hand, we have in our scriptures, the Old and New Testaments, numerous stories in which God calls the too young, too old, too insignificant, too obviously limited, and so forth. Moses, Gideon, and Jonah are just a few of these. Each has a valid argument for why they are not qualified to fulfill the plan God has for them: “Can’t speak well,” “Can’t do it,” and “Not interested.” Sound familiar? They have come to terms with their limitations.

Jeremiah is another in touch with his limitations: “I’m just a child.” God has called him to a task of speaking dangerously destructive words, which will bring down whole governments and nations. Jeremiah has a point: You don’t get a child to do what most adults wouldn’t touch with a stick! So he says to God, as though God is ignorant of the fact, “I’m too young.” He might as well have said, “I’m too uneducated,” or “I’m too inexperienced,” or “I’m too insignificant,” or “I’m too . . .” what? You fill in the blank.

What do we expect God to say in response? “How dare you question the Almighty’s authority?” or “Oh, you know, you’re right. Sorry about that. I’ll get someone else.” or “No you’re not, stop being so hard on yourself! You’re older than you appear.” No, surprisingly God says, “I know you are. Just don’t say it.” That is, “You need to see beyond your limitations. You need to enlarge your opinion of your abilities. You need to enlarge your imagination.” Notice that God does not age Jeremiah so that he might be “old enough.” God gives him everything he needs: “Before you, I . . .” and “I will be with you.”

Yes, you are too small, you are too inexperienced, you are too unqualified, you are too young, you are too old, you are too . . .  scared. Just don’t say it! Because no, you are not alone.  May we be more open to the possibilities and purposes to which we are being called.