Summit

We were coming down from our annual trip to the top of Enchanted Rock when we saw a young boy stopped sitting on the top of his astronaut helmet. I stopped and quickly took a picture. He was so adorable. I was thinking what an amazing message his family was sending him. They looked at this young boy and felt like he could reach the stars.

Not that far below him his mother was struggling up the steep incline caring camera gear and more space paraphernalia. She also had her daughter with her space helmet in tow. This was a family launch. She was clearly headed to top with aspirations of a big photo shoot and the internal rewards of “getting the right” picture to publish on social media.

I was about this same age on my first trip to Enchanted Rock. My strongest memory is that my oldest brother sat on a cactus and my father had to speed a long time plucking needles out of his backside. It was awful.

At that time it was a private park having been held by the Moss family since 1895. There was even talk of the Borglum’s (famous for carving Mt Rushmore) coming to sculpt the rock into the hero of Texas. When the Moss family offered to sell it to Texas the government balked. A stone quarry company, however, was willing to pay the price. Only through the intervention of Lady Bird Johnson was the area eventually purchased for the state and preserved. She could see what it could become, while others thought of how they could tear it down.

Those seem to be the impulses of our world, see the best or see the worst, build up or tear down. I’m glad they protected it. It always make we drink in the horizon and the beauty and dream of the best days ahead. I looked at that boy so full of life and potential and was thankful that he had a mom that believed in him. I bet one day he will look back on those pictures and they will fill him with joy.

Adrift on the Serengeti

On the edge of the Serengeti is a black sand dune. It has been there for as long and people can remember. The local Maasai believe the sand comes from a nearby mountain, Oldoni Lengi (The mountain of God). For them, it is sacred ground. It is considered rude to climb the dune. Each year the prevailing wind drives grains of dark volcanic ash up one side and down the other. It forms a particular crescent shape called a barkan.

Each year, the progress of the dune is tracked. Scientists put a tall stick in the ground indicating it’s location. Driving next the the poles is like following a fence line into history. This dune is on a journey across the African savanna. Driven by the hot winds rising off the arid grasslands the individual grains are powerless against the wind. But occasionally a rock or tree or even a shrub is the the way and the tiny speck is stopped. Then another and another pile against the hard stop and form a pile. Eventually, one dune is dissembled and a new one is formed.

In 2008, we drove out to see the dune and saw this skull on the top. Ashes to ashes dust to dust are the traditional words spoken at a graveside. I thought of those words looking at the skull. The dune is within a mile of one of the most famous research digs in the world, the Olduvai Gorge. There Richard Leaky, discovered some of the earliest and most important anthropological fossils. People have been living and dying in that area since there were people. They have been watching the dunes slide by generation after generation.

This year has been a a year of dunes for me. In the fall we were on our social distancing vacation and went to the Grand Sand Dunes National Park. Those dunes don’t travel. They are trapped by mountains. We climbed them and watched people surfing down them. At Christmas, we headed to west Texas and stopped a Monahans State Park. This is a dune filed area over 200 miles long stretching all the way to New Mexico. It is constantly changing. The lone dunes in Africa are unique.

We are all somewhat adrift in the world. Driven by the forces around us. Sometimes our drift can be tracked other times we are staying still, but still falling apart. These dunes exist because they grains of sand have no way to connect to one another. Only the presence of wind pressure and gravity keeps them together. Too often we are adrift because we are alone. We have not connected with others in the kind of relational bonds that helps us be resilient when the wind comes blowing. We can be certain that the strong winds will come. If you do not want to drift away, then you need to be anchored together.

Peaks and Valleys

For Mother’s Day we did one of the things that Cindy loves most. We worked a puzzle. The puzzle we selected was of all the National Parks. In the center of the picture was a map of the US with a star on the location of each of the parks. I wonder, “Who in America lived the furthest from a National Park?” I looked at the large white strip through the middle of the country where no stars existed. A line could be traced from Chicago down though Iowa to Kansas and the to the Panhandle and finally to Houston. The area marked by the blue zone on the map defined the boundaries of the park-less valley. Its deepest spot, the area surrounding Des Moines, Iowa. These people live the furthest from anything our country deemed important enough to reserve for everyone.

It’s not that they live in an ugly place, they just don’t have anything unique and remarkable near them. They have vast acres of farmland. You can see both horizons. Trees dot the landscape, but mostly just acre after acre of farmland. The same could be said for Kansas. Then there is the Gulf of Mexico. Not till you near Florida is there any sign of a National Park and it is so remote, on the very southern tip of the state.

I loved this map. When I asked the question about who lived the furthest I just typed the question into google and the first search request was for a group of cartographers on Reddit that have discussed this question. A person identified by the online handle ‘dmahr” who drew the map commented, “I just did it in ArcMap 10 using the Euclidean Distance tool in Spatial Analyst with North American Equidistant Conic projection (NAD83 datum).” I think dmahr must be smart. He knows a bunch I don’t know. My eyes guessed at what he proved.

I would need to learn a lot more to fully participate in a conversation with him. I go the gist of what he said, but not all of it. This is a lot like the Bible. You can study it and learn so much by just observing and reading it. Occasionally, it takes digging, discipline and determination to work through the text to get more of the meaning. Too often people are unwilling to pay the price of being a student of the Word. They just want the easy pickings, but there is treasure untold in a discipled examination of the Bible. Ask it questions. Seek its answers.

Blow Up

The day I almost blew myself up. My son was in surgery. Normally I would be in the hospital, but with the COVID  rules one of us had to wait outside. Fortunately they let us play tag team so if one of us came out, the other could go in. The lady at the door was taking names and paying attention. I figured it was going to be a long day and it would mean hours of waiting outside so we took the RV with us. I put the generator in the back, that way, I could run the AC and work on my computer while I waited. We stayed at an RV park about 8 miles from the hospital in Frisco so we could join him for check-in.

We arrived for the surgery and took turns waiting outside while the hospital process proceeded. My plan was working perfectly. I did not even need the generator because the air was cool. The hospital gave us texting updates, we waited until he was ready in recovery and then got to go see him, still taking turns. Late in the day, the air had gotten hot, my computer was down to 4% and I needed the generator. The generator is heavy, so I pulled it to the edge of the truck bed so that there was lots of air around it and kicked it on.

The AC worked great, my phone and computer were restored and charging and I kept working. After about an hour the generator hesitated. I thought it needed more gas. I went out to check. I circled the truck bed and realized in an instant that I was in serious danger. I had not paid close enough attention to the direction or the proximity of the exhaust to the gas container. The heat had melted the red plastic. The heat had expanded the liquid inside. The pressure had split the side and gas was spraying out in a fine pressurized mist toward the generator. I expected it to explode.

I dashed around the front, touched the button to turn off the generator and then retreated. I waited. The gas kept spraying. I dashed forward and in one quick motion grabbed the gas container and set it outside the truck and ran further away. I waited. A fine jet of gas filled the area. I waited, the gas kept spraying. I ran and got the red demon and took it further away from everything and tried to wrestle off the top, but the pressure was too great. I pushed the nozzle. Gas erupted like a fire house and then stopped. “Great” I thought, “the pressure was released.” I retreated and watched. The gas geyser returned.

I did this over and over, release the pressure, watch the pressure return. Finally, I was able to get the top off. Then I waited for about 30 minutes. My heart was pounding, my hands smelled of gas, somehow I had averted an explosion. Looking back on it I made so many mistakes. I should have checked the gas can location, I should have called for help, I should have stayed a long way away. A thing, a truck, an RV were not worth the risk of burns and worse. I put this in the category of one more thing that COVID cause this year. I just wanted to be near my son.

It has been so hard all year to know the right things to do. Sometimes we have gotten it right, sometimes we have gotten it wrong. I hope people will give us grace and help us rebuild our church. Let’s not COVID take one more thing away from us, let us be near each other.

Crowd

Last week, a remote storage closet at the church was emptied. The items were deep in the recesses under the bleachers of the ROC gym. It was clear that most of the items had been placed there in 1996. Boxes of records, invoices, calendars, and held the settled dust of a quarter of a century. They were like little time capsules. The contents of the files were from the the early 80’s. It was before word-processing and computer files. Some of the papers gave the evidence of typewriters and whiteout. Things we can now do in seconds, took painstaking work.

I started through the files at first through curiosity and amusement. Then I began to wonder if there was anything of historical importance. So I slowed down and opened each file folder and scanned its contents. It was easy to reject most of the files instantly. Like the paid invoices for 1990 to a business closed by 2000 or a catalogue for music on tapes to play for people to roller skate. Other files were not as easy to dismiss. Some dealt with properties. One looked like it might have information about our buildings worth retaining. Methodically I flipped through the contents occasionally pulling something out for review.

I found a folder with a few newsletters from the church. I scanned them with greater interest. They had been printed on the outside of the Baptist Standard, the news magazine of our Texas Baptist organization. I looked at the announcements and then opened one of the magazines. The headlines reminded me of a dark, dark, day in my life. It was the day that the president of my seminary was fired. He was fired without cause except for telling the truth to power. The powerful people did not like it. They eliminated him. A lot of my naiveté was swept away that day. I had been taught that people of good will good disagree and remain friends. I had been taught that diversity was the way fo strength. I had been taught that the winds of preference were not as important as the sustaining power of character. Dr. Dilday was a brilliant scholar, inspiring teacher, loving pastor and encouraging mentor. The people people in power wanted to cancel him.

The day after he was fired we gather on the lawn of his house. The picture in the Baptist Standard recorded that family gathering. We wept as Dr. Dilday addressed us. We grieved as our seminary was ripped away from us. When I was there over 5,000 graduate students gathered to learn God’s word and ways. Now less than half of that number attend the school. I looked at that picture and tried to find myself. I think I am in the bottom left corner. I world has grown much more lonely. Unfortunatly, the things I was taught no long seem to hold. People don’t want to dwell in the tension of diversity, they want to be surrounded by people that only agree with them. The more we retreat from one another, the more we demand people agree with us 100%, the further we get from God’s dream of gathering all people together under the banner of the cross of love.

Observer

The caption under the photo read, “One of the more interesting dining options in the Vanity Fair was the Cafe of Night and Morning, which featured live-action scenes from Dante’s Inferno, where diners sat at tables made from real coffins under chandeliers made of skulls and bones.” The sentence stopped me in my tracks. So much information packed into 43 words.

One: Vanity Fair: The picture was in a history of the 1897 Tennessee Centennial. What we call the “Midway,” they called “Vanity Fair.” The dictionary says that a Vanity Fair is “a scene or place characterized by frivolity and ostentation.” It refers to a fictional town, “Vanity” in the works of a baptist pastor, John Bunyan, in one of the most famous books in the English language, Pilgrims Progress. The book outlines the struggle to follow Christ in this world. It’s an allegory. It was written in 1678 while Bunyan was in prison for following Christ with his convictions and holding outdoor preaching services, which were against the law at that time. He was held for 12 years. Several times he was offered an early release if he agreed to one stipulation, “NO PREACHING.” He famously responded, “If you let me out today, I will preach tomorrow.” So he remained in jail. The term “Vanity Fair,” is the most mainstream lift from the book.

Bunyan built his fictional city, Vanity, with reference to the 1497 Bonfire of the Vanities in Florence, Italy when a reformer, Savonarola, called people to reject the world and follow Christ. He lead numerous public burnings of art, books, cosmetics and mirrors. Later, Savonarola, was himself burned by those who were stung by his critiques. The Reformers of the early 1500’s often saw him as an Elijah like figure announcing the reckoning of the church. The words inside the archway announce that “Night and Morning,” was, “the sensation” of the “Vanity Fair.”

Two: Dante’s Inferno. One of the most influential books in Western Civilization. According to Christian Blauvelt it helped give us the modern world. Dante

advanced the idea of the author as a singular creative voice with a vision powerful enough to stand alongside Holy Scripture, a notion that paved the way for the Renaissance, for the Reformation after that and finally for the secular humanism that dominates intellectual discourse today. You may have never read a single line of The Divine Comedy, and yet you’ve been influenced by it.

The Inferno tells of Dante’s journey to the nine levels of Hell. He fills in what the Bible leaves out and in so doing has influenced what most people think of Hell. It is hard for us to even think about Hell without Dante’s voice clouding our pictures. He was right in picturing it as something to be avoided. It is terrible.

Three: Diners watching live action scenes. People sat and watched while people suffered and died in agony. It was entertainment. It was gruesome. Why would people pay to sit at a coffin and watch people going to Hell all the while the Vanity Fair swirls around them? I’m afraid not much has changed in our world. We too often seem unconcerned that people are outside of the love of God. We are too numb to the pain of the people around us and too preoccupied with ourselves. The Vanity Fair swirls around us. The Pilgrims are not Progressing. We are just watching. It’s time to stop watching and do something.

Fake

We arrived at the top of the lift. Before us rose a huge tree. I did not give it a second thought, we were in a forest. Logan drew our attention to the tree. It was not a tree. It was a communication tower. I stopped and a tally stared at the tree. Yes, there it was. A tall metal tube with artificial limbs. It was like our Christmas tree, but 100 times larger. Nestled in the top of the tree where the tell tale signs of cell phone connectivity. 

Next to it was a real tree. It was not as tall, it was not as “perfect.” The limbs did not come out at regular intervals. The color was darker and richer. The was a funny empty spot on the left and it stuck out too far on the right.

The comparison was clear. The fake and the real. I prefer the real. I was surprised that I had been so easily fooled by the artificial arbor. Fakes are all around us and we often don’t seem to notice. We just assume that things we see are real, but we rarely look and consider the truth of the claim. 

The world offers us relationships that will “fulfill our deepest needs,”  but those relationship put God far down on the list of priorities. Therefore they can’t possibly meet our deepest needs. Materialism promises to make us feel successful, but in the end we are left with trinkets and trash. Even the church can be artificial. It can be a place of activity, but just the motions of life. 

If COVID has done anything, it has sorted out lots of half-hearted commitments and what is left are those with deeper convictions. The next leg of our church’s’ journey will depend upon people deeply in love with Jesus sharing that love with others. Nothing fake, artificial or partial will work, but only those with a sold-out life will be able to attract others to follow the way of the savior. It will not look perfect, but it will be real. 

Margin of Error

All week I have been waiting for the results of the cheer competition in Florida. Since seeing the TVCC squad on Easter I have so many questions. I need someone to watch the performance with me and take me through it slowly so that I can understand how the judges evaluate the routine. I do know that eliminating errors is on of the main things the groups have to do in order to win.

The final score between TVCC and Navaro was only separated by 00.1584. What I don know is if this is a large or small number. I don’t know how this stacks up over time. What have the scores been in the past. How does this compare? TVCC won with a 98.2292. How does this stack up against other schools in the past. Has there been grad drift like in so many other fields? How does this compare to scores a decade ago?

I understand that TVCC won. I’m super proud of them, but it is obvious that I have a lot to learn.

Understanding the score can be very important. Since we just walked through teh Easter journey it might be good to review that score. 100% of people are sinners - “for all have sinned” (Rom 3:23). This is not a comparative score. This score has not changed over time. It does not matter how long people practice, they still find a way to mess up and sin. The only perfect score recorded was Jesus. He was 0% a sinner. He was the winner. The consequences of sin is always death - “the wages of sin is death” (Rom 6:23). All people will get the same result. Since Jesus is the one person who does not have a death sentence, then his volunteering to die in my place allows me to trade lives with him. He gives me the winning score, he takes the loosing score. The payment is made and I am set free.

The TVCC score can only be understood in relation to other team’s scores. Our life score can only be understood in comparison to Jesus’ perfect score. We will find real freedom when we recognize that Jesus is the winner and we are in need of his help. This will take humility and real honesty. That is what it will take to know how to really win in life.

How do I value this?

On Sunday we asked people in our masked required service to give us feedback about our mask policy. At the back of the church we had two jars of beans - black and green. We said that if you want us to adopt a “mask optional at your seat policy” ASAP please put a black bean in the bowl. We said that if you want us to keep wearing masks for a few more weeks put a green bean in the bowl. 63 people participated which meant a number of people did not choose to give input. 54 people put in a black bean (84%). 9 put in a green bean (16%).

On Thursday our Leadership Team wrestled with what this information meant. Do we see it as a vote and the majority wins and the minority loses? In this view, we let the most votes determine the behavior of the group. Other people asked if we should see it entirely differently. Should we allow the minority interest to guide the decision? Now, if this was a vote about the color of carpet, then the stakes would be so much lower and our default has been majority rules, but this decision is fraught with so much more difficulty. If we get this wrong the consequences are very serious.

If we remove the mask required policy, then some people have said they will not be able to return to in person worship. It also means we would be going against the advice of our doctors advisory team who helped formulate our current policy and that would frustrate them. We have faithfully followed their advice this last year and they have pleaded with us to be as safe as possible especially because the end seems so near. On the other side is the rising discouragement people are feeling and frustration with COVID. Some people have decided to find other places to be where they are not asked to wear masks.

We wrestled with the 9 beans. When does the minority voice get heard? When is it unreasonable? Would the 54 be willing to sacrifice for the 9? If the 9 have not had a chance to get the vaccine would the 54 be willing to serve them for the next few weeks until they can? What is the difference between getting what I want and what the community needs?

We had a respectful but tension filled conversation. At the end we came down on the side of the 9. Since we have a mask optional service at 10:45 we are going to ask the 8:30 service participants to continue to follow the mask required protocol for a “few more weeks.” As vaccinations go up and infections and hospitalizations go down we feel confident that in the very near future, we will be able to move to a mask optional  at seat option in both services fairly soon and then eventually mask free. We will take the pole again on Sunday April 11.  It will be framed in two different questions. 1. The original question. 2. “If there are people who are attending service that want us to keep wearing masks, I will wear a mask to support them.” It will be a sacrifice, but a willing sacrifice to serve others, like  we heard about last week from  the book of Philippians.

Keep praying as we struggle to serve others. This is a difficult time and lots to juggle and we need lots of wisdom and grace.

Constant

One of the great privileges of my life is the opportuinty to walk with families through the dark valley of death. I have stood at the pulpit hundreds of times and tired to help families tell the sotiry of their loved ones, of faith, of life well lived. One of the most interesting supports in this process is a person’s Bible. I love to get to thumb through a Bible and see the highlights, to see the odd bits of quotes, poems and memorabilia that have been placed into the pages.

Sometimes I even find my own name in the Bible. I’ll find it next to a passage of scripture marking a sermon I have preached. About a month ago I was reading in a friends Bible and found this prayer list. I was struck by several things in it. First was the word “constant” and the date in 2017. My friend had to move away from Athens, but she still did not stop praying for me. The second thing I noticed was my name written above the word “pastor.” She was not just generally praying but specifically praying for me. Next to my name is my wife’s name. There is no possible way I could do what do without her. This past year has been exhausting. The new schedule of video production has increased the workload of our technical team. There are lots of extra hours and the only way that has works in our home is that Cindy has carried and unfair share of the work. I appreciate my friend for surrounding my family in the circle of prayer.

I have read this list over again an again and keep seeing both its simplicity and its beauty. I love that she continued to prayer for the old churches she was part of, because she loved them like family. I love that she has a relationship with her “forever friends.” It amazes me that she was trying to grow to the very end of her days, God make me “more loving and more patient.”

What are you constantly praying about? Who are you constantly praying for? I read this at a really stressful and low time and it made a difference. To all those that pray for us I thank you. We need them, they are like wind that lifts our wings.

Thump

There is a moment when a tree hits the ground and it makes the most satisfying thump. It’s not only a sound, but is felt in the vibrations of the ground. It comes up through the feet and resonates in the joints. It is a deep primal feeling. It’s a glorious sound. I believe it happens even when no-one is there to hear it. The other trees feel it. It is the sound of the layers of loss as a witness to the world falls.

Last week, I went to chain saw training. I attended a class from the Texas Baptist Men Disaster Relief Team. It was hosted at the ROC. We were given a powerpoint presentation, a book to read and then went on a field trips for practical experience. There was safety equipment, rigging, cutting, dragging and clean-up. I learned several things, I was reminded of things and I remembered some things.

The first time I ever used a chainsaw was on a mission trip. I was leading the trip. I had a dozen teenagers with me. We had no training. We had gone to the mountains of North Carolina to one of the poorest counties in the US to cut wood for a ministry that then distributed the wood during the winter to those that were struggling to keep their homes warm. A landowner had an area he wanted cleared of trees. We had a few tools. I had watched enough TV to have a basic understanding of how to chop down a tree. So we play acted being lumberjacks. After the training last week a cold chill traveled up my spine. There was so much that could have gone wrong. There is so much that we did that was not according to “best practices.” We had no safety gear except gloves. We had no sense of a safe fall distance. We had no escape route planned. We did not know about kick-back. Somehow we survived without a single injury. The trees we felled on that mission trip were huge. Twice as tall as the ones we brought down in training. The sound they made was deeper. It linger in the ground.

Because of COVID the forest around us is thinner. Lots of trees have fallen. We have watched the number of deaths grow, but it feels unreal. We have not witnessed the deaths. We have been cut off from most of the stories, but they still fell. The number is hard to comprehend. It seems like a fiction. How can half a million people disappear and the upheaval not be felt by us all? It all feels so random. Some people get very sick. Some not at all. Gatherings happen with no repercussions others are super-spreading events. Sometimes big risks are taken with no consequences. Sometimes all the rules are followed and bad things still happen.

At the end of the day, we have to live with ourselves. How different my life would have been if one of those kids on that mission trip had be injured or killed by my lack of caution. I heard the thump of those trees last week and it made my heart skip a beat. We have been criticized for our response to COVID. I was recently accused of cooperating with Satan due to our choices. We got a hostile call at the church asserting that we were participating in evil for helping people get the vaccine. Here is what I know. The leaders of our church have tried to make decisons to keep the flock of God safe. They have been motivated by love. They have been tried to decided using their best understand of truth. We are nearing the end. We can see it from here. I’m praying that there are no more thumps in our forest.

Damage

We drove to Tyler this week and could see all along the road the damage that has been done to the trees. Since I am not an arborist I was not sure if it was pine beetle, old age, COVID or the freeze, but I suspect it was the deep freeze. Even in my neighborhood, lots of trees seem to have taken a deep shudder and let go of many of their leaves.

I checked the Forest Service website and it said that the sudden change of the pine needles is a reaction to the cold.  It said it was, “a normal physiological response.” Further, “most trees in East Texas will survive the freeze damage.” The difference might be the health of the tree before the cold snap. A weakened tree might not come back or it might become the target of insect invasion in the spring. Right now, they said, “not to panic.”

Our culture has been through a year long deep freeze. No one knows what is on the other side. It seems clear that the introduction of the vaccine, the number of people who have already recovered from COVID and the many people who have adjusted to safe behavior protocols has finally tipped the pandemic in the right direction. Now the question is, what about all the damage? Is it permanent? What will recovery look like? Is it time to panic or can we be patient just a little longer?

What will this all mean for the church of Jesus? Some people have switched churches, we have had over 50 people join this year. Some people have dropped out of church. Some people have started attending online that have been disconnected for a long time. What does it all mean? One of the first great pandemics in Western society led to growth in the church. It was not fast, but it was steady and was the turning point in the church conquering the Roman Empire. The analysis of what made the difference was the influence the church had on health. The caring churches, the ones that picked the path of helping keep people safe are the ones that won in the long run.

It will be a while before anyone knows what was damage, what was pruning, and what the future holds. Our job is to continue to be faithful to loving people more than ourselves and serving them in the name of Jesus.

Treasure

I grew up in a big family that all lived near each other. We had regular gatherings at our grand parent’s houses in the Poly section of Fort Worth. They both had relatively small homes, but big yards. We spent lots of time outside. We were COVID safe before COVID. The neighborhood had alleys behind the homes. We would walk, kicking cans, laughing and cutting up. I was the youngest of all of the grandkids. That is me on the far right. Im number 16 of 16. The older cousins were already well on the way to marriage and so I was even further down the list. I looked up to all of them.

At the top of the list were my two grandads. It was a different time and they were really on the top of the pile. They lead by tone of voice and raised eyebrow. Their word was law. They both had hearts of gold so what flowed from their character, from their decisions, was love and kindness. The cast of wake of goodness around them.

The strongest earliest memory I have is of my “Pop” (left). When my Dad was in Vietnam we lived in the “old grey house” near my grandparents. My mom had three little boys, diapers, and loneliness, it was a rough time. The grandparents helped to step in to the gap. My Pop picked me up from the preschool I attended. I remember running on the red brick street, that he helped lay, and being caught up in his arms. When I think of the Prodigal Son I think of that picture. When I think about what it means to “come home” I think of that moment. When I think about crossing from this world to the next, I think of that moment. Pure love looks like my old Pop having a big enough heart to make room for me, the youngest and smallest.

I bet he did not remember that day. It was just a day to him. He just came to pick me up. But that day has lifted me over and over again. It has washed me with love. It has formed my self-esteem. It has sheltered me in the storm. You just never know when showing up and caring might be the pivotal moment in someones life. You might never understand how an investment in a child might bear dividends for years to come. If you get a chance, show someone love today—it might make all the difference.

Its Better in a Community

On Tuesday night, I walked into the ROC at our church and was confronted with a massive water leak. A pipe had burst in one of the classrooms. It was blasting out like a firehose. Water stretched from the front door to the gym, down the hallway to the refuge and nearly to the kitchen. It was 2-3 inches deep in places. The water was hot, so the building felt like a sauna.

When I stepped into the room and saw the water blasting there first thing I noticed was all of our filming equipment sitting under the waterfall. Since the COVID shutdown we have been filming all or part of the sermon. In the first few weeks we were using some church equipment, but almost all borrowed equipment. We were moving it in cardboard boxes and bags. Then in May one of our borrowed cameras blew over in a strong wind and it damaged a very expensive lens. We decided right then to buy cameras that were the churches. In those early weeks, we needed more and more equipment to produce the service each week. We bought cameras, lights and sound equipment. We also bought professional camera cases to protect the investment.

The equipment has been stored each week in H4 which has been repurposed as our filming studio. The water never reached H-4. This week for the first time we put the equipment in H1, the room where the water jet was emanating. Our maintenance crew has been painting the ROC in preparation for opening the church which we pray is just few weeks away. They were about to empty out H4 so we put the cameras in H1 while they were painting. When I saw all the gear in the water I let out a guttural yell. Cindy, Logan and I waded into the mist and drug all the equipment to the lobby. Cindy checked the cases. They were all closed. When she opened them, all of the equipment was come-they dry. They paid for themselves! We did not loose a single piece of equipment.

I posted a video of the water on our staff communication platform. Within minutes staff started to arrive. Steve Gowan turned the water off to the building. Then we started to push water out of the building. We used push brooms and some plastic blades. For about two hours we pushed water out of classrooms, into the hall, into the lobby and out the front doors. Others showed up with water vacuums and pulled up even more water.

I just want you to know how much our church staff cares about you and our church. They have worked so hard this last year, they have done it with so much grace. There is no way we could have accomplished so much, helped so many without them. This has been a stressful year. The difficulty has been tolerable because of the selfless sacrifice of so many. Thanks to you all.

The Story of Love

I saw these four ducks in a pond near New York, Texas. I stopped to watch them as they paddled away. They are called Buffleheads. The two on the left are males. The two on the right are females.

After I took the picture and was sitting in my truck and seeing what shots I got I paused on this image and immediately, I started to tell a narrative story about what was going on. I know that I am placing human emotions on animals - it's called anthropomorphism and some people look down on it, but I am not one of those people. I think my dogs are thinking and feeling. I watch birds watching me and think they have attitudes. I’m a sucker for pitiful eyes.

What is the story with these ducks? The two guys on the left are looking at each other. As if to say, “Why are the girls looking away from us?” “What did we do?” Their quizzical and confused looks remind me of so much male behavior around the mystery of being in relationships. They are looking to each other to explain what neither one understands. Lots of young adolescent behavior develops in this ignorance echo chamber. Lots of the objectification of others, the skin deep evaluation of others and the ego driven domination begins in the hushed conversations of those who only listen to others just like them. I “learned” so many things from guys growing up that turned out not to be true, but I was told were true. Some of those ideas had to be unlearned painfully.  That is why I love the name of these ducks - Bufflehead. I was a Bufflehead filled with all sorts of bad ideas.

The females on the right are both looking away from the males and are looking to the shore. I told myself the story that they were shunning the boys in hopes of finding a better bird. That seems like one of the great evils of our day -believing that there is someone else, someone better that can make you feel whole. Part of the relational fragility in our society is this belief that someone else can complete me (thanks, Jerry Maguire) and if I am unhappy, it is because I am not with the right person. I infected the story with insecurity, loneliness and shattered self-esteem.

Valentine's Day is one of those days that seems to inject more pain and anxiety in the world that the love it intends. Marketers have turned it into a surreal experience. Huge boxes of candy are stacked in the store, but if you give someone the candy, they feel the weight of the expectation to eat the candy, but the world says that eating the candy makes you gain weight which attracts the rejection of the world. It’s a no win situation. The marketers put flowers out for people to give, the flowers are put in vases and then almost immediately begin to fade. Its hard to capture the right moment when the flowers express real love and we can block out the death that is to come. There are commercials and cards reminding many people that they are not in relationships and are alone. The pain is piled high. Valentine's Day is hard to get right.

What is the love story you tell in life? Have you been taught things by our world that you need to unlearn? The conditional, arbitrary rules of what it means to be lovable, to be acceptable to be worthy of love? Have you been taught to see people through the shallow lense of the eyes of this world?

Jesus gives us a way out. The Bible teaches that we love because God first loved us. It is this “first love” that we all so desperately need. We don’t find it by looking at each other. We don’t find it searching for the next person to “fill us up.” No, the only way to find real love in the world is to find complete contentment in the love of Christ, to know his first love. When we know, without a shadow of a doubt that we are loved without condition, without regard to appearance, attitude, lineage, economics, or even obedience (While we were still sinners Christ died for us). When we know that we are the beloved child of God, then we are so much better equipped to deal with the conditional love of the world.

This Valentines day, don’t listen to the marketers, listen to the maker. Know that you are loved and that the heart that was given to you was the savior of the world. Be washed by that love. Then go and love the world from a filled and complete heart. Love the people in your life. Go and offer unconditional love. It will be the best Valentine's Day gift.

Up on the Rooftop

After 19 months of battling my roof leak, we finally have a comprehensive plan to fix the problem. It started with the roofers tearing off a big section of the roof and replacing the plywood and then putting down a water and ice shield and then finally a new roof. They day they showed up they started early. Through most of the Pandemic, I have moved my office to my house. I have a quiet corner in the back bedroom. It was not quiet.

I described it has having a troop of gorillas on the roof with sledge hammers. (One person responded that a group of gorillas on the roof seemed like fun to watch, which upon reflection does seem like it would make a great youtube video). The sound was deafening I needed to be at the house to make some decisions, so I tried to work, but it was hard. I tried headphones. I tried tylenol. Mostly, I just struggled. Eventually, the noise either subsided or my ears grew numb. In just one day they tore off the old roof, replaced plywood, put down a new roof and cleaned up. It was amazing.

Then the interior project began. First, they had to scrape the ceiling to get the popcorn off. What a mess. Again, I needed to be home to help make some decisions, so I returned to my home office. It was quiet. I got a lot done, but then needed to leave to use my church computer to edit some video. I went to my door and realized that I was taped into the room. Plastic sheeting was stretched across the door. I got a knife and made a tiny slit to look in. There was no way to exit through the door without making the mess much worse.

After just a few seconds, I decided to crawl out the window. The bottom of the window is about 3 feet from the ground. Just enough, to make it impossible to reach the ground with one foot inside on the carpet. Also, the window is small and my body did not want to fit in the hole and let me maneuver. I felt like wet spaghetti noodles trying to be pushed through a key hole. Arms, legs, hands and feet were flailing for ways to help, but mostly just flapping in the air. Further, the bottom of the window frame was sharp. ti was like sitting on a ridge of nails. I finally was able to slide, stretch, and easy my way out of the window. It would have made a good youtube video.

There are some problems that can be fixed with simple adjustments. There are some problems that require a massive response. When you evaluate your life, don’t put off the massive changes of actions and attitudes just because they are going to be hard. On the other side is something new and beautiful. What changes have you been putting off? Is it an attitude that is destructive? Is it a relationship that is pulling you away from Christ? Is it a behavior that if people found it would ruin your witness? Tear off the roof, scrape away the rot, climb out the window, make an escape.

The voices I hear

I grew up in the home of a dieter. The fridge seems to be the battlefield. So many textures, so many experiments to try to find food that tasted as good as the food we were not supposed to love. We gave up on milk and started drinking slightly grayish water called skim milk. We had tiny pieces of bread sliced super thin. We lived under the confines of eating rules, counting points, counting calories, fighting away taste.

The fridge was purged of cold drinks and replaced with Tab, Fresca and off brand carbonated liquids pumped with the biting artificial sweeteners of the day. A trip to the kitchen was almost always a disappointment. Occasionally, the fridge held wondrous surprises. Birthday treats, holiday specials, occasional splurges.

I read once that if you give a lever to a rat, and if, when that lever is pulled it delivers food then the rat will stuff himself eating away at the food. Then, if the lever stops working, the rat will eventually stop pulling the lever, but if just once the lever works, then the rat will not decrease pulling on the lever but will increase pulling the lever until it nearly drives itself crazy. They call this an extinction burst. Your system fights back hoping beyond hope to produce the old result. This is why temper tantrums work. This is why bedtime is such a fight with young children. This is why changing eating patterns is hard. This is why we fall into the same sin traps over and over again.

The fridge is just one of the manifestations of the dark forces in life. This box promises to hold the treasure. It promises to fill up the emotional pain in life with joy and goodness. It’s like a drug pusher lives in your kitchen. Every time you walk past it it beckons to you inviting you to search within for the thing you are missing. This last year, lots of people have been alone at home with too much time on their hands and too much stress in the world.

I told a story about cookie dough in my sermon this week. I had to buy some for the sermon. Then I had to deal with it. I’m glad I left it at the church, because if I would have brought it home I would have eaten it all already. I wish I was stronger.

Maybe the fridge is not the voice you fear, not the voice you struggle with, but my hunch is that you have a pressure point that the enemy uses to discourage you. The besetting sins are all ones that promise happiness but end in tragedy. “sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies” (Gal 5:19-21). I feel like the world specializes in pushing these buttons and so many of us are falling into one of these traps. We listen to the voice that promises that pornogrophy will fill us with love, we think wild living will give us relationships of love, we hear that anger and bitterness will give us a more biblical society, but it all ends in abusive relationships, conditional friendships and broken communities. We have to decide whose voice we are going to listen to.

Until the voice we hear is God’s until we trust him completely that we are loved, treasured and accepted, then we will constantly be on the hunt to find something that will fill the void within.

Thanking God for the Vaccine

The pharmacy just called to schedule my second shot. I’ve been thinking a lot about who to thank for this vaccine. Of course there is the pharmacist and the people who declared me 1B. There is the government Warp Speed group, there are the scientists who developed it, but before all of that, way back is a person who I’m just become aquatinted with his name was Edward Jenner. It is said of him, “his work saved more lives than any other man on earth.” That is a big claim.

Jenner is considered “the father of immunology” and he was a Christ follower. He was a simple country doctor. He realized that milkmaids were immune to smallpox (which often killed 10% of an area’s population and had for several thousand years - we have found evidence in Egyptian tombs). This immunity was caused by them being exposed to cowpox. In 1796, he made the intellectual leap that it was MUCH safer to give people cowpox to let their natural immune system grow stronger than the older method of injecting smallpox pus into people (variolation).

He tried his method on several people, and then larger groups of people with the same result-immunity from the savage results of small pox. He created the term vaccination to describe the process because vaccinia is the latin term for Cow Pox (Vacca is Latin for cow). He said after his success, “the annihilation of the smallpox, the most dreadful scourge of the human species, must be the final result of this practice.” He took the information to the world.

A number of people opposed him. They made fun of him. Groups of doctors who used the much more dangerous method opposed him. Groups of anti-vaccinators emerged. They suggested that if people were vaccinated they would turn into cows. (See the editorial cartoon here). There was anger, there was resistance. It was a long slog to get people to accept the truth. By 1800 Thomas Jefferson was helping to launch vaccination in the US. in 1805 Russia made variation illegal, but it took until 1840 for England to follow suit. When smallpox was eradicated from the people of the world his insight and God’s design finally achieved his noble goals. In the last decade, it is estimated that vaccinations for all diseases have saved more than 23 million lives. The evidence is clear. Underneath it all is the truth that the process only works because of our immune systems, our God designed immune systems. We have found a way to teach it to learn to recognize and help us defend against threats. Its an amazing thing.

Jenner was not concerned with notoriety. He was not concerned with profit - he gave the technology away for free and vaccinated people for free at his home in the Temple of Vaccinia (see here). He was concerned that people understood the truth, I am not surprised that men are not thankful to me; but I wonder that they are not grateful to God for the good which he has made me the instrument of conveying to my fellow-creatures. (Original quote page 295). Jenner considered his mind and talents as from God. He loved God’s word. He wrote in a bible he gave his granddaughter Augusta, “this is the best book that ever was written, she will give it not only the first place in her library, but convince those who love her dearly, that is occupies the first place in her heart.”

I love that vaccines was developed and popularized by someone who was trying to express the truth and the love of God. I’m praying that as the vaccine becomes available that the vaccine- resistance will find a way to allow themselves the great gift we have been given of science and an immune system. Mine is learning a new skill as I write this, I pray your will soon.

• The Origin Of The Word ‘Vaccine’ Science Friday. HERE

• Heros of Faith Edward Jenner, HERE

• Edward Jenner and the history of smallpox and vaccination. Baylor University Medical Center. HERE

• A great historical project about Edward Jenner, his impact, people responses to him. It uses lots of primary sources. HERE

• History of anti-vaccine movement HERE

• Story of an vaccine-opposed mom who reversed course and vaccinated their family HERE

Missing Piece

The puzzle had one missing piece. We had two theories. The first was, “the dog ate the piece.” We have caught the dog with a piece in her mouth, so this is a plausible explanation. We looked at the dog. The dog looked back at us. The dog denied knowing anything about the puzzle piece. The second theory is that it had dropped off the table.

We got out flashlights and got down on our hands and knees and searched. We took the couch apart. We looked under the rug. After a half and hour of searching we still had not found the piece. It was very frustrating.

The next morning I reached into the closet to grab my workout shoes and saw a puzzle piece, no, not “a” puzzle piece, but “THE” puzzle piece sitting on the floor. I did not put it there. It did not walk to my closet. I looked at the dog. She denied knowing anything. I looked back at the puzzle piece. It was not saying anything. It must have hitched a ride, been caught in a piece of fabric or stuck to the bottom of my shoe.

I asked myself, “Should I tell?” I could just scoot it under something. I could ignore it. I could “find” it near the puzzle. I only hesitated for a second, but it was there. That is the problem of humanity. We sin naturally. We are sinners. I am a sinner. And our pride can’t stand for us to look bad. We naturally move toward image management-to show ourselves in the best light. I stopped and got my phone and took a picture. I wanted evidence. I picked up the piece and brought it to the puzzle. I put it right on the top. I told Cindy.

The only way to deal with a sin problem is to acknowledge it. I did not take the picture for Cindy. I took it for me. Now when I scroll past it I will have to remember that I have not yet succeeded in taking every thought captive, I did, however, win the wrestling match - this time.

In the street

I was headed home. It was pitch black. The dog came out into the middle of the street. There was no threat of me hitting him, but if he lingered long I was fearful that he would not make it to the other side. It happened so fast that it took me a couple of beats to think, “Do I know that dog?” We dog sat the previous weekend and the blur in the street looked like our friend’s dog. 

I pulled my truck over in the next driveway and got out and called the dog’s name. The dog kept its head down and headed away from me. I could not tell if the dog was running from me, or just running.  I still could not distinguish the dog’s identity. I called my friend. It went to voicemail. I got back in the truck and went after the dog. The dog looked scared and lost and I wanted to see if I could rescue it. I circled the block thinking I could get ahead of the dog. I kept picturing my friend frantically searching in our neighborhood, but this dog was a quarter of a mile from our homes. 

I called back and this time got an answer. No, their dog was safe and in the home. They were not out searching in the night. I was relieved for them, but still concerned for the dog. Someone would be searching for this dog soon. I came back around the corner scanning the road and the houses for signs of the dog. 

Then near the spot where I had first parked I saw a car and people out searching with flashlights. It was the owners and they were on the wrong side of the street. I drove over to them. “Are you looking for a dog?” “Yes!” they replied. I pointed and told them where the dog had run. I asked the dog’s name. They did not know. Then I realized that they were like me, trying to rescue the dog from the street. They headed down the street. I searched for a while, but could not find any more signs of the dog. I hope he made it home.

We are all on one team. Our goal is to get every home safe everyday. I met strangers in the dark and we instantly saw that we were willing to set down our plans and work together for a noble cause. Our world is swerving dangerously toward selfish isolationism and tribalism that forgets to see that every person is our neighbor, is loved by God and deserves to be treated with love. We have to be able to have conversations of restoring community spirit, serving each other, protecting each other. Most people just want to get home safely everyday. I bet you will see someone today that is feeling lost, that is feeling like that dog in the middle of the traffic. Be the person to stop and help them get home.