666,216

666,216

666,216 is the average number of hours that a man in the United States can expect to live.

I’m approximately 52.5 years old.  That means I’ve used up 460,212 of mine…should I only be average.  Which begs the question: How do I want to use the last 206,004 hours of my

life?

Of course, I hope to be above average.  My personal goal is to live to be 100 years and one day old.  But, you just can’t count on ‘beating the house.’  In fact, there are a good number of people who fall short of the average.  So, let’s just say I’ll be average.  How do I want to spend those hours?

Maybe playing Candy Crush?  Nope!

Maybe watching TV?  Not anymore.

 

I don’t watch TV nearly as much as I used to, but let’s examine that one.  For conjecture sake…because I’ll never figure this out exactly…let’s say that I’ve watched two hours a day for the last 50 years.  Some days/years were much higher than others.  That’s an estimate, and it may be low because I used to watch A LOT of TV.  But, okay…two hours a day for 50 years is 36,525 hours.  Hmmm.  I’ve wasted 1522 days sitting in front of the television.  That’s over four years sitting in front of an electronic brain-sucker.

That’s kind of staggering, if you think about it.  And, my guess is most of us don’t.

Sit on a sofa...or, go see this?

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m not opposed to relaxation or entertainment, and I’m not likely to give up TV altogether.  (I need my Walking Dead fixes.)  But, I can tell you, as a guy who has likely crossed the halfway point, I want to be a lot more mindful of how I use up those remaining hours.  I will no longer be donating them to mindlessness.

Frankly, I want to do something worthwhile with them.

I want to create.  I want to see beautiful and interesting places.  I want to worship with zeal.  I want to love deeper.  I want to make a difference in people’s lives.

I am challenged and inspired by the way that my fellow Christian and friend, Dr. Kent Brantly has devoted his life to serving others.  He could be living a fairly cush life here in the U.S. as a physician.  Nice house.  Nice car.  Maybe a club membership.  Instead, he has been donating himself to a cause where the only reward is the satisfaction of seeing people survive.  Since last fall, he has been working with Samaritan’s Purse at ELWA Hospital in Liberia, West Africa, sharing hope and providing medical care to people most of the world ignores.  And, further, now that he has been stricken with one of the most deadly diseases known to man—Ebola, he still remains committed to his course.  No regrets.  No second-guessing.  He is “praying fervently” for God to save his life, but either way, he has put himself in the Father’s hands.  He is faithful regardless the outcome.

Whether he will meet or exceed the average life-span of the US male is very hard to say right now.  The next week will tell.  But, I can tell you, he has already made more of a difference than most of us ever will.

So, I’m going to make some commitments right now.  I had already put Candy Crush in a coma in my world.  (Whoever created that game should be…well, I won’t say…it wouldn’t be nice.)  I am now declaring it ‘dead to me.’  I’d put Words with Friends on hiatus.  That hiatus is now permanent.  TV has been skimmed way down, and will stay that way.

I am going to look forward to my next 206,002 hours with much more intensity.  I will use them with a great deal more intentionality.  (I just gave a couple of them to you.)  And, I will renew my dedication to serving my God.

Now, a question for you…how are you going to use the hours you have left?

#PrayForKent

#PrayForNancy

Ebola and the Power of Humility

My friend, Jim Brantly stood in front of our church this morning and apologized.  Being privy to the incredible family crisis he was (and still is) facing, I was taken aback.  What could he possibly be apologizing for on this morning of all mornings?  Then, I learned, as I so often do with Jim, that his heart was touched in a way…as it often is…that puts me to shame.

You see, the crisis in his family is the critical and life-threatening illness contracted by his son, Kent Brantly, which has been all over the newsfeeds and even the major news media outlets over the last couple of days.  His son, Kent Brantly, who is also someone I consider a friend, has been working for nearly a year with a hospital in Liberia in West Africa.  He is a doctor, and for the last several months, his focus has been on the battle to stop the spread of Ebola.  And, Ebola is deadly.  From the reports I’ve seen, it kills anywhere from 60% to 90% of those who are stricken.  Hundreds have died in the last few months, and some of the most at risk are the healthcare workers providing care.  In just the last few days, the family learned that Kent had contracted the disease.  He was (is) sick, in isolation, and alone (at least from his family) on another continent thousands of miles away.  Out of the reach of their loving arms, and beyond anything they could do for him short of prayer. 

Can you imagine?

So, for the last few days, Jim (and his family) have been praying…likely like they have never prayed before…for Kent’s recovery.  Pleading.  Begging.  Beseeching.  Calling with all of their energy, emotion, and faith on the God they have so long served; asking Him to come to their son’s side and return him to health.

And, in the middle of all of that emotional, mental, and spiritual turmoil, Jim came to realize something.  Something that he shared with all of us as he stood in front of the church just this morning.  Something that…again to my own shame…I would never have considered if the tables were turned and I was walking in his shoes.  Something incredibly selfless.

He realized that he had not been praying for others with that same sense of urgency and fervency.  And, his heart ached. 

So, at this time when he desperately wants his son to be healed and brought to full recovery, instead of pleading with the congregation to pray for his son, he apologized to the church for his own lack of prayer.  And, you could almost see the hearts of everyone in the room going out to him…trying to wrap themselves around him and his family.  It was moving.  It was powerful.  It was REAL.  It was what I think God intended.  The facades came down.  It was the church being real.  Really being the church of Christ.

And, of course, we all prayed fervently for Kent. 

Once again, I was humbled and amazed by Jim’s simple, heartfelt humility.

That is the kind of family that Kent Brantly comes from.  And, that is where he gets his faith and compassion.

Pray for Kent Brantly.  Pray for his healing.  Pray for his work.

Pray for my friend Jim.  Pray for his strength.  Pray for his faith in this time of testing.  Pray for his whole family.

And, pray for us.  All of us.  Pray that we can learn to reflect that same humility, selflessness, and faithfulness.  Pray that we…wherever we may be…will really be the church as God intended it.

54 Days to Go

54 Days to Go

I just pulled out my calendar and counted them.  I have 54 days to get into “Yellowstone” shape.

Like so many other people, keeping fit is an ongoing battle with many competing forces trying on the one hand to help me, and on the other hand to trip me up.  Mostly the latter.  Frankly, my occupation is not helpful.  As a sales guy, I spend way too much time either riding in my car or riding on my office chair.  To top that off, I spend too much time in front of the TV….riding on my recliner.  And, to top it all off, I have a major affection for ice cream.

You could put anchovies on ice cream and I’d probably eat it.  (Well, I’d probably pick the slimy little guys off, and still eat the ice cream.)

So, as a result of those influences, I fluctuate between striving to be fit and striving to have a stroke.  Between you and me, I’d prefer to be fit, but sometimes I forget that fact when a big bowl of Blue Bell with chocolate syrup is calling my name.

But, I now have a goal and a deadline.

My goal:  Be able to successfully hike into the backcountry of Yellowstone…and enjoy it.

My deadline:  Mid-June

54 days from now to be exact.

So, between now and then, I’m committing to a few changes:

1.        Daily exercise.  In increasing doses and intensities.  Likely, I will start out with walking, biking, and maybe shooting some baskets in the driveway.  However, when caught in a rainstorm on a walk back to my hotel last week, I discovered that I could maybe try some running too.  Regardless, I need to do it EVERY day, and I need to build the intensity as June approaches.

2.       Cutting the Carbs.  I don’t do zero carbs, but I do cut them big time.  No more french fries until vacation.  No more dinner rolls.  No more mashed potatoes.  No cereal.  No bagels.  No bread.  I am going to allow myself tortilla chips and rice once a week from my favorite Mexican restaurant (El Rodeo), but otherwise, I’m tightening the noose on unneeded complex carbohydrates.

3.       No Ice Cream until Vacation.  This is hard…and self-explanatory.

4.       Lots of salad, vegetables, fruits, and leaner meats.

Last year, I biked like crazy from June to August, but I only dropped seven or eight pounds.  Then, I stopped riding, and picked up a diet plan.  I dropped another ten to fifteen.  Just imagine what would happen if I combined those two things!

That’s the plan for the next 54 days.

Wish me luck. 

The Importance of Legacy

I attended two separate and distinct events today that were designed to recognize the past.  One was the 50^th anniversary of my church congregation being located at their current address.  Many names from the past were mentioned, and their service recognized.  Honor was extended to them…many of them in their memory since they have since passed on.  The church that is there now is in many ways one of their legacies.

The other event was a Masonic ceremony in memory of members that had passed away in the previous year.  When I say it was a ceremony, I mean that to the fullest extent.  I am not a Mason, but my father-in-law was, and he was one of the men for whom the memorial was held.  The event was held in the Scottish Rite Cathedral in downtown Indianapolis, and my wife’s father simply loved that place.  He spent hours upon hours there, performed countless works of service in support of the organization, and was fully devoted to the Masonic and Scottish Rite principles.  As I walked around inside the old, very ornate building with its intricate craftsmanship, I couldn’t help but think of Woody and how much he truly loved it there.  It is one of his legacies.

Legacy.

A legacy in simple terms is just something handed down from one individual, generation, or organization to another.

Many people just pass on through this life and leave very little mark…very little legacy.  Sure, those closest to them have memories…small legacies…that they hang onto for a few years.  But, soon enough, those memories fall into the chasm of history.  If you consider history, recognizing the millions upon millions of people who have lived, how many of them really did, said, or accomplished something of significant consequence that caused people to remember them beyond their own lifetime?

Have you ever considered what your legacy will be?  What will you have to hand down?

And, on top of even the idea of handing down a legacy, have you considered whether it will be a GOOD legacy?  After all, some people are truly remembered, but not for the good they left in their wake.  Think Hitler, etc.

I hope that when my time comes to pass on into the annals of history that I have left behind some pieces and parts that are worthwhile of being remembered.  Maybe that’s why I write.  Once I’m gone, my literary creations will remain...whether you think they are good or not so good.  But, I hope I leave a bigger legacy than a few articles, some cheesy poems, and a handful of decent short stories.

I hope I leave a legacy of making a difference.

First of all, I hope that my feeble attempts service in leadership at the Southeastern Church of Christ will be used by God to truly help people.  I hope when they celebrate the 75^th or 100^th anniversary that they will think well enough of me…that I will have done enough good…to be mentioned as a positive influence.  I don't want to be remembered for holding a title...but for making a difference.

But, even more important to me is my hope that I will pass the baton of a love for God on to my children just as my dad passed it on to me.

I’m good at my work.  I’m a successful salesperson in an industrial industry.  But, I don’t really care all that much about how I’m remembered for that.  Who cares if I sell more bearings than anyone else?  I could become the most successful bearing salesman to have ever lived, but if I have not helped someone to a better life, and especially if I have not passed on that flame of faith born of a love for God to my children, then I am a failure and I should be forgotten.

Some people have to have the most toys.  What’s the saying?  “He who dies with the most toys wins!”  Really?  Who is going to care once those toys are rusted out, distributed to others, or auctioned off?

Some people want the greenest lawn surrounded by an impeccable landscape.  Give me some dandelions….I’ll put up with crabgrass…if the trade-off is that my kids walk with the Lord.

We are still building our legacies…you and me.  It is still yet to be seen what we will leave behind.  I have a saying that I created a few years ago: 

“Be the person today that will lead you to become the person that you want to be tomorrow.”

Think about that as you build your legacy.  Be the person today that will lead you to build the legacy that you want for tomorrow’s generation.  That will be my goal.

A Muncie Boyhood-10 of My Favorite Memories from Muncie, Indiana

10 of My Favorite Memories from Muncie, Indiana

1. Sitting on the front porch in July at 2am, while sipping a Coke from Cantrell’s Barber Shop, and watching the cars go by.
2. Walking to Heekin Park with my dad on a warm summer day.
3. Running through the middle of the clothing racks at the downtown Ball Stores or Sears Department stores.
4. Playing army with all the neighborhood kids…across every yard in the area…hiding behind or in or on any tree, garage, or house that seemed to provide good cover.
5. Going on my first date to see the fireworks on the 4^th of July at Prairie Creek Reservoir.  (1978)
6. Seeing Halloween…at the Rivoli Theater…at night…alone.  Then, checking the backseat of my car before getting in for the ride home.
7. Going fishing in Stoney Creek with my dad, and catching bluegill and catfish with a cane pole.
8. The New Year’s Eve Sing at the Fairlawn Church of Christ, followed by all-night bowling at the Village Bowl, followed by breakfast at the Big Wheel Restaurant.
9. Sledding down the big hill on the west side of the reservoir.  (I went back recently, and that hill looks tiny now.  What happened?  Also, where did it come from?  It seems so random.  I sure hope it wasn’t a Native American mound that we’ve destroyed over the years.)
10. Sharing all of my inner thoughts and feelings…all of my fears and hurts…with my therapist….my little white dog with the brown ears named Sugar.  I had her from the time I was one until I was seventeen years old.
11. Okay...so, I had to add one more...seeing the woman who would become my wife for the first time.  It was at church...she was a BSU student...I was home from college for the weekend.  Man!  The long, curly brown hair and the exotic eyes!  Whew!

Obviously, this list isn’t exhaustive, and I’ll probably think of a dozen more that I cherish in the next hour, but I’ve enjoyed remembering these as they came to mind.

What about you?  What are some of your favorite memories from your childhood in your hometown…especially if you’re from Muncie?

Science & Creation-Outside the Box

I suppose we should all realize that this particular discussion is moot since regardless of what we may believe, we are here.  The world exists…unless you are a Philosophy major, and then you may ask the question of whether reality is really real.  But, I’m sticking with a real reality…we are here…and how we all got here really doesn’t matter all that much.

That confusion-inducing statement having been said, this subject interests me, and it is something that I’ve been thinking about for a long time.  Further, this is also one of those subjects where my thinking is outside of the mainstream. 

In fact, it is outside the mainstream of both sides of this issue.

Now, I’m not a scientist.  I’m just a regular guy who pays attention…likes Star Trek…is a little nerdy…is intrigued by science...and is a believer in God.  In some ways, my opinion isn’t worth two plug nickels, but I do write a blog and some people read it, so here are my random thoughts on the issues from the now famous Bill Nye/Ken Ham debate on whether Creationism is a viable explanation of how the Universe came into being.

First, let me say that I wasn’t going to watch it.  I just get tired of these arguments that solve nothing.  But, after I decided to share my views on the subject, I decided I should take a gander at it.  So, I spent a couple of hours watching it on YouTube the other night.  Actually, it was interesting.  I found some compelling things being shared on both sides, and I was pleased that overall it was a friendly exchange.

I agreed with some things from both, and I disagreed with some things from both.

Here are some of my random thoughts on the topic…not necessarily tied to the debate:

• The Bible says that “God created…,” but it never elaborates on the method used.  As a child, I envisioned that things just POPPED into existence.  But, couldn’t God have used a method…a process…a portion of which we now call Evolution?
• There are things we use in the world today (think technology) that only a couple of hundred years ago would have been considered supernatural.  The supernatural becomes the natural once we understand the process and the science behind it.
• The Bible is not a Science textbook.  It was not provided by God as a way to fully explain science.  That is just not its purpose…rather Christ was the purpose.  Everything was pointing toward Him.  If you wrote a cookbook and then found out some school system was using it to teach math, wouldn’t you question that school board’s thinking?  A cookbook has some math in it, but that isn't its purpose.
• In the debate, the biggest sticking point between Nye and Ham was the age of the Earth.  Nye believed it to be billions of years old while Ham holds to only about 6000 years.  However, the Bible NEVER directly says how old the earth is.  It does not ever…EVER…pinpoint a start date.  The method used by Ham and others to develop the timeline is by counting backward from Christ using the biblical genealogies.  If you start at Christ (2000 years ago) and then follow the genealogies based on how long each generation lived, you come up with about 6000 years.  I don’t believe that this is a viable way to date the Earth to the beginning point.  However, my main point here is that this is a MAN-MADE construct of how to date the Earth.  The Bible never says that this is the way to do it.  Mankind has come up with it on its own.
• Ham holds to a literal “Six-Days” of creation…meaning six 24-hour periods.  God created and things POPPED into existence, and He did it all in six literal days.  I no longer hold to that view, although I used to.  Rather, I believe that God employed an allegorical language that ancient people could grasp.  Why is it so hard to believe that God could use an allegory?  Do we think He is so limited in His literary skills that He couldn’t come up with something like that?  Frankly, I’ve come to the conclusion that the six days represent immensely long eons of time…periods in the history of the Earth where God brought about great changes using the processes that science is discovering through its ongoing research.  This in no way threatens my belief in the inspiration of the Bible.  Frankly, when facts are uncovered that challenge my interpretation of the Bible, I don’t start questioning the Bible…I start questioning my understanding of it.

Now, here’s where I’m going to throw out my own half-baked theory.  It’s half-baked because it isn’t fully developed.  And, it is a theory...not a doctrine that I've constructed.  I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, but I’ve not fully worked it all out.  And, I’m not going to assume that I’m the first to think about this either, but I’ve never heard anyone express the following concept before.  Here goes…

I am coming to the belief that the creation of man in Genesis 1 and the creation of Adam and his placement in the Garden of Eden in Genesis 2 are two separate events.

I believe that humans were created by God (through whatever process He chose to use) sometime in the ancient past, but the creation of Adam and Eve was something special…a special creation of a man and a woman that happened much, much later.  I’ve not come to a conclusion as to what was special about them…other than maybe it was God’s first step toward creating a people to whom he could have a relationship with…a people who were self-aware, creative, and/or carried within them a soul.  I’m still working on that.  But, if this is true, then it explains a couple of other things:

1. It allows for a much, much older Earth consistent with the evidence being uncovered by modern research.
2. It even allows for the possibility of a literal six 24-hour days of creation…just much longer ago…although I still think that it is an allegory.
3. It explains where the people came from that Cain was so afraid of when God banished him…and where he found his wife.

In this theory, Adam is still the first man, but he is first in a different way than the way the box that we’ve all been raised in explained it.  He wasn’t the first human, he was first in some other way that has then filtered down through all of mankind.

So, just let me leave that hanging out there….

You can tear it down…help me develop it…think I’m nuts…whatever.

I’ll leave you with some parting thoughts:

1. Scientific discoveries point to an Earth that is much older than 6000 years.  There are even some Biblical anomalies that remain uneasily explained in the young-earth view.  If we adamantly deny the evidence without giving deeper thought…even thought outside our religious boxes…, then we do begin to appear ridiculous to the rest of the world.
2. Scientific discoveries are not contradictory to the existence of God…at least nothing that I have seen says there is no God.  Bill Nye even acknowledges that science cannot disprove God.
3. Science does not displace God, it simply reveals His processes.  For example, if evolution is true, then it was simply the process created by God to bring things about…science has simply revealed something about how God made the Earth.
4. Finally, the Big Bang Theory…more than anything else…points to God.  Science theorizes that the Universe POPPED into existence sometime billions of years ago.  However, it cannot explain HOW that happened or WHERE that matter came from.  Scientists cannot really explain it, but we can understand that it came from God.  While we can be questioned on where God came from… and we have no answer beyond that He just always existed…, science can be questioned on where the matter in the Big Bang came from…and there just is not a satisfactory answer to that…other than God.

My conviction is that we Christians should stop fussing about evolution…stop arguing about the age of the Earth…and just start glorifying God with each new discovery our atheist friends in the science world uncover about the processes that God used when He brought the Universe into being.  Because, in their own way, those folks will find that God really was behind it all after all.  He is at the end of the string they are tugging on.


PS:  I in no way mean to say that there aren't any believing scientists.  There are.  And they make many, many discoveries of God's processes every day.

Inspiration from a Remarkable Man



Woody is in the center.

“I’m going to buy you a T-shirt with a target on the back,” said the smiling and imposing man.

“Why’s that?” I asked in response with a touch of trepidation.

“So I can hit you from long distance,” answered my new girlfriend’s father.  “Hahahahaha!”

Those were the first words that I can recall my father-in-law speaking to me, and they were the beginning of over 30 years of laughter, support, encouragement, advice, and….lots of friendly ribbing at my expense.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The world has its share of bad men.  The majority of us are simply mediocre.  Only occasionally will you run across someone who is truly remarkable.  I found one, and I’ve been married to his daughter since 1985.

That remarkable man, Wendell (Woody) Vandivier…aka Boo Boo…, passed away on Saturday morning, January 4, 2014. 

The feeling is surreal.  On the one hand, his family is heartbroken.  On the other, we are celebrating the life of a man who has made such a difference in the lives of those around him.  Some in huge ways, and others in small ways.  And, I think the reason for this strange combination of feelings is his remarkable character.

Remarkable.

I’ve had that word force itself to the front of my mind ever since I learned of his passing.  In some small way, I want to share what made him so remarkable to me.  I’m going to try to at least give you a flavor of the man who became my second dad.  One of my daughters made a list of 10 things she will always remember about him.  That seems like a good enough format for me to copy.

1. He always met me with a smile and a joke.  ALWAYS.  The truth is that he did that with EVERYONE.  Family.  Friends.  Guys walking down Barth Avenue.  Waitresses.  Even nurses and physical therapists working with him as he neared his passing.  It was his job to put a smile on your face, and he worked at it tirelessly; sometimes planning his next trick or joke days or weeks in advance.
2. He loved his granddaughters with all of his heart, and poured himself into them whenever they were around.  They were his joy.  Whether it was holding them on his lap in his Lazyboy chair when they were little, or traveling to their chosen college for a visit as they grew up, he made the extra effort to show them how much they meant to him.
3. While I did see him occasionally get emotional and once raise his voice, I NEVER saw him lose his temper.  Ever.  He never demanded respect, but always somehow attained it.  I suspect that he earned his family’s deep respect by pouring so much love on them that they could not bear to show him any cause for disappointment.
4. He just loved life.  Whether it was traveling to see his family, working in his garden or Piddle Parlor, or helping me cut up a fallen spruce, he loved to be with people…especially his family…, and he lived in the moment.  He enjoyed life as it came his way, and that joy washed over onto anyone he was around.

Okay, so I didn’t get to 10 things on my list.  Maybe not, but I think I did get to the heart of what made him remarkable.  I haven’t said it yet, but it’s there…  It’s in between the lines…  It’s leaking out…  Did you catch it?

It was his Unselfish Nature.

He was always giving to someone.  His wife.  His boys.  His daughter.  His daughters-in-law.  His son-in-law.  His granddaughters.  His great grandchildren.  His extended family.  The guy who owned the gas station down the road.  The man who owned the property where he gardened.  The apprentices that went through his training program.  The myriad of waitresses that took his orders over the years.  The receptionist at the doctor’s office.  The nurses and physical therapists at Rosegate.  Basically, whoever was right in front of him at the time.

What made him remarkable, and someone I desperately want to imitate was that he was a GIVER.

Wholeheartedly.  Without reservation.  With joy.

In our world today,… with all that we see around us,… all the mess that is mankind,… when you run across a person like Woody Vandivier,…someone who is an unselfish person with a mind to give joy to those around them, the only word that can describe it is:  REMARKABLE.

And, I’ve been lucky enough to be his son-in-law for nearly 30 years.

I have truly been blessed.

Quacking Up the Wrong Christmas Tree

Quacking Up the Wrong Christmas Tree

Two weeks ago, I thought I’d write an article about “keeping Christ in Christmas.”  This week, the story is all about Ducks.  So, I guess I’ll mix my messages and say that I think in both cases we Christians are quacking up the wrong Christmas tree.

What was it the angels said?

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”  Luke 2:14 (KJV)

Peace on earth.

Good will toward men.

How does that jive with all the angry words that seem to dominate my Facebook feed?  In my mind, not so well.  Consider these thoughts from your friend, Caaamper….

CHRISTmas or Happy Holidays?

A good number of my friends are adamant about saying “Merry Christmas!”  Almost to the point that I’m afraid that if I happen to slip up and say “Happy Holidays” to the wrong person, I might end up being shunned.  It’s like walking on egg shells just to pick out a Christmas…um…er…Holiday card. 

“We’ve gotta keep Christ in Christmas!” they shout.  “Those left-wing liberals are trying to scrub the ‘reason for the season’ right out of the holiday!”

Well, amen brother.  In response, let’s consider the scriptures that discuss the Christmas holiday…. 

Well….um….hmmmm. 

That’s right.  There aren’t any.  You see, Christ didn’t come to earth so we’d name a holiday after Him.  But, maybe we could consider some of the things He said:

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”  Matthew 5:7

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”  Matthew 5:9

“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.”  Matthew 5:44-45b

“Give, and it will be given to you.  A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap.  For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”  Luke 6:38

“Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.  Do to others as you would have them do to you.”  Luke 6:30-31

Personally, I don’t see a lot of room there for Christians to be writing nasty Facebook posts….but, that’s just me. 

I think if we want to keep Christ in Christmas, then our best method to do so is to keep Christ in us.  We are his hands, his feet, his mouth in this broken world.  We should reflect Him in our very words and actions, and by doing so Christ will very much remain in Christmas…regardless of what we call it.

Here are some suggestions:

Feed a hungry person.  Put a coat on the back of a homeless person.  Buy someone some groceries.  Listen to someone who needs an ear.  Put your arm around someone in pain.  Buy someone a tank of gas.  Forgive someone who has hurt you.  Be Christ this Christmas.

Ducks and Boycotts

Ever since Phil Robertson’s words whirled into a firestorm, my family has been telling me to keep my mouth…and my keyboard…to myself and stay out of the fray.  And, frankly, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say anyway.  The whole spectacle has actually been painful…painful to watch…painful to read…and painful to think about.

That said, even though I’m tip-toeing into the subject, I’m not going to discuss what Phil said.  I’m not going to talk about the reactions from GLAAD or A&E.  If you want my thoughts on those things, we’ll need to know one another, and then we can sit down and have a discussion.  Instead, I’m going to share my view that as Christians, I think we are reacting all wrong.

Christians all across America are up in arms about the attack on Phil’s 1^st Amendment right of free speech, and angry about the infringement on our rights to freely practice our religion.  Hateful words are flying through cyberspace faster than light travels from the Sun to the Earth.  Nasty letters…nasty posts…nasty tweets.

We Christians may deny being homophobic, but we sure can be hateful when our rights are stepped on.

The problem is that Christ never guaranteed we’d enjoy those rights.  And, the way we are pursuing them flies in the face of some of the things He did want us to do….see the verses above.

Are people saying things about Christians that aren’t true?  Yes.  Are they misconstruing Bible verses to suit their agendas?  Absolutely.  Are some even attacking our God?  No doubt.

Well, shouldn’t we stand up and fight?

No.

Consider these words:

“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.  Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”  --Jesus.  Matthew 5:10-12

“But I tell you, do not resist an evil person.  If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other also.”  --Jesus.  Matthew 5:39

“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult.  On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing.”  --Peter.  1 Peter 3:9

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”  --Jesus.  Matthew 6:14-15

Rather, I think we should be about the business that He left us here to do.  He ate with sinners.  He drank with sinners.  He died for sinners.  And frankly, that is what we are.  Let us pass that example through and befriend those around us that still remain outside the Grace we’ve found.

We weren’t commissioned to defend God, or judge the world.  God can pretty well defend Himself, and the judgment seat is where He sits.  We were told to love God, love our neighbor, and urge a lost world to reunite with the Father.  Period.

The problem with judging is that when we do it, it gets in the way of loving. 

No more strife.  No more anger.  No more hateful words.  Rather, let us love with the love of Christ.  Selflessly.  With sacrifice.

You don’t have to approve of what people do in order to love them.  Good grief, I don’t even approve of my own actions a good deal of the time, but I don’t have any trouble maintaining affection for myself.  Paul said in Romans that we “all have sinned.”  God gave us Grace before we deserved it, so why shouldn’t we give it to others before they do?

We can make a difference in this world, but it won’t be our angry words that does it.  It will be something truly remarkable. 

Love.

A Muncie Boyhood-Murphy's Law and a Stapler

“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.”

That’s known as Murphy’s Law, and it’s true of many things. 

You never have a flat tire in the garage…nope, it will obviously happen on the interstate highway.  And, then, it won’t happen when you’re dressed in jeans and a work shirt.  No.  Rather, it will only happen when you’re dressed up in a nice suit.

If you drop a quarter on the kitchen floor, it will automatically roll under the stove.

The guy in front of you will only hit the brakes when you look down.  BOOM!

If one tiny chicken bone is left in the pot of chicken & noodles, It will end up with it on my plate.  FACT!

And, if the seam of your pants rips from front to back, it will only do so in public, and in a crowd.  EXPERIENCED!

I’ve officially ripped out my pants four times…every time in front of a group.

Event One

Sometime late in my high school career, I attended a Fairlawn Church of Christ youth group event at Prairie Creek Reservoir.  Often I would have driven myself, but thanks to Murphy and his law, I had decided to ride with the group in the church vehicle.  So, when I bent down to catch that softball someone tossed my way and I heard (and felt) that seam tear in my jeans, I had no choice but to retreat to the back of the Chevy 15-passenger van.  I resigned myself to social self-seclusion.  I was sitting dejected on the rear seat when I was rescued by one of the girls.  She handed me her hooded sweatshirt and I tied it around myself; then returned to the festivities.  Problem solved.  I may have looked like a giant teenage baby with a cloth diaper, but I still managed to hit a homerun or two in the softball game.

Event Two

I’d gone off to Williamstown Bible College in West Virginia, and each spring and fall, the ministry students traveled to another city to participate in a week-long “campaign.”  In the spring of my second year, we held a campaign at the Lindberg Road Church of Christ in Anderson, Indiana.  On the last night of the event, after all the official programs were over, the whole crew gathered at a local family’s home for a party...a local family with three teenage daughters.  At this point, I’m twenty years old…and still enough of a kid to enjoy hanging with all the teens.  So, there I was in my gray dress pants…my fairly old gray dress pants…out in front playing basketball.  The ball went up.  The ball went down.  I bent over to get it.  RIP!  Front to back!  There I was, undies to the wind, in front of all the guys…and more importantly, in front of all the girls.  Luckily, I had an extra pair of pants in the car, so I jumped in and slipped the extra pair over the ripped pair and returned to the party.

Event Three

After college, I returned home to Muncie and involved myself with the college-age group at my home church.  Among the many various activities was an annual bus trip to Chicago for a seminar.  It was March.  There was snow on the ground.  It was a long bus ride, and we stopped at a rest area along I-65.  Now, before I go on, you need to know that all of the luggage was piled up in the back five rows of the bus.  It was just thrown in there in no particular order.  Anyway, the whole group of passengers…goofy college boys and cute college girls…, well they all piled out to go take a leak.  Boys being boys, and snow being on the ground, a snowball fight naturally ensued.  I bent over to get me a good frozen missile when I heard (and felt) the opening of my rear window.  RIP!  Front to back!  I quickly retreated to the men’s room and sent a friend to retrieve my suitcase.  Of course, people started to ask: “Where’s Mike.”  My friend, being the honest guy he was, replied: “Oh, he ripped his pants out, so we’ve gotta get his bag for him to change.”  Of course, my return to the bus was met with more than one giggle and snicker.  My face was as red as my frozen butt.

Event Four

A couple of years later and I’m all grown up.  I have a full-time job slingin’ bearings at Bearings, Inc at the corner of Liberty & Willard streets.  I spent my days answering the phones and helping customers at the counter.  There were eight or nine of us in the branch plus a constant flow of customers.  A guy came in and asked for something we had in the warehouse.  I headed back to get it.  It was on the bottom shelf, so I bent over to get it.  RIP!  Front to back!  My fanny was in the breeze again!

So, I called to the warehouse guy:  “Hey Terry!  Can you help me out?”

“What do you need?” he replied.

“I’ve ripped my pants out.  Can you take this up to the guy at the counter for me?  Just tell him that I got tied up with something back here, so I asked you to take care of him.”

“Sure,” he says with a sneaky grin.

I grabbed a stapler and headed to the bathroom.  He grabbed the stuff and headed to the counter.

A few minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom with a pair of pants that you couldn’t get through the security gate at the airport to find an office full of sneaky smiles and a guy at the counter that was belly-laughing.  The information was too good for my warehouse guy to keep to himself. 

I overcame the embarrassment within a few minutes, but sitting at my desk was precarious the rest of the day.  There is a great reason that clothing companies do not use staples to make trousers.

So, take it from me.  Murphy’s Law will guarantee that if you wear your pants until they are threadbare, the butt seam will split at the most inopportune time.  Of course, maybe it wasn’t Murphy’s Law…maybe I was just a clothing dork.

Grace and the Soldering Iron

Many years ago, I did a message on how guilt is like the sense of touch.  I said it was kind of like when as a kid, you put your hand on a hot stove…that burning pain warned you that you were doing something that you shouldn’t.  I said that guilt was the same way.  It was something that God put on our conscience that taught us that doing wrong was bad for us so that we would stop doing those things.

However, I was off-base.

For example, once in high school I took a shop class on Electricity.  As I was working a little soldering project, I inadvertently reached up and grabbed the wrong end of my soldering iron.  After I stopped screaming and got done rinsing my burning hand under the cold water spigot, I had learned to never do that again….and I haven’t.

For another example, as a kid of about 18 years old, I had a moped; one of those old Batavus mini motorbikes that had goofy pedals sticking out of the sides.  I took off on it one day and rode over to a friend’s house.  I didn’t go far…only a half mile or so…and I happened to wonder if the muffler was hot after such a short ride.  Now, I know that right now you’re thinking:  “He couldn’t be that dumb!”  Well, I WAS that dumb at eighteen years old.  That’s right.  I reached down and touched it.  That hot, searing pain taught me to never do that again, and I never have.  Lesson learned.  I’m not that dumb any more.

But, guilt doesn’t seem to have that effect.

I seem to be quite capable of doing the same dumb, sinful things over and over again…feeling guilty…then feeling guilty again…without ever seeming to learn to avoid those things in the future.

I’ve finally figured out after all of these years that beating myself up and feeling all guilty…while it does serve the purpose of driving me toward repentance…does nothing with regards to preventing me from doing the same stupid things over and over again.  (Of course, maybe it’s just me.  Maybe I’m the only one who seems to fall into the same self-imposed temptation traps over and over again.  Would you tell me if I’m not?)

Anyway, guilt is simply not effective in teaching me anything useful in breaking that cycle.  Guilt is really kind of like burning your hand on the soldering iron, then forgetting how much that hurts a few days later and doing it again....and again...and again.

But, I think I’ve finally found something that is effective…

For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people.  (That’s you, me, and even that goofy kid with his pants hanging around his rear and the nose ring poking out of his nostrils.)  It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, (That’s all those stupid things you, me, and that goofy kid seem to keep doing.) and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope – the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.  Titus 2:11-14

Did you catch it?

The grace of God TEACHES us to say no.  It’s not the guilt…it’s the grace.

I have decided that from now on, if I’m falling short….no…wait…scratch that…WHEN I fall short, it’s not that I need to feel more guilty….I don’t need to have a deeper understanding of how messed up I am.

Nope.

What I need when I fall short is a better understanding of how deep, how wide, how incredibly amazing is the grace of God.

Only through a deeper knowledge of grace can I hope to LEARN to say no…and to live a godly life.

Maybe you knew that all along, but I’m just glad the light bulb finally lit up for me.