Rotten tomatoes are fun...

…if you're the one throwing them!

The following is a non-political announcement.  "I have compassion for Newt.  And Barack.  And Mitt."

You see, I have thought more than once about what it would be like to make speeches every day, knowing that someone out there is ready to criticize everything you say.  They will especially love to hurl rotten tomatoes if you open your mouth and make a huge gaff...

…just like I did last Sunday.  10:45 service.  Last sermon of the weekend.  Spontaneous remark.  I. BLEW. IT!!!

I was talking about Demas, the New Testament deserter.  (Look him up.)  For some strange reason, I decided to bring in a bit of American history and talk about another famous deserter from the Revolutionary War.  I snatched his name from my memory and blurted it out: "Nathan Hale!"  The moment the words left my lips, I thought I saw one friend do a double-take.  I quickly did a memory rewind and knew it sounded wrong.  But I was fully in the next paragraph and chose not to pause for a quick audience reaction.  (Our church is filled with people who love it when I let them point out my mistakes.)

I hope you are a compassionate reader.  To all the descendants of the indelible Mr. Hale (and all you citizens of Connecticut, where he is the official State Hero), I am humbled by his heroic quote before being hanged by the British: "I only regret that I have but one life to give to my country." To the rest of you, I say, "Please don't pull a Benedict Arnold on me…

…My skin is allergic to tomatoes!"

When Attitudes Change

"Is Halloween evil?" That's the question posed and discussed on our daughter C. Beth's blog yesterday. It's a great question that will keep stimulating discussion long after this year's sugar highs are over. Beth discussed her own metamorphosis on the issue, then referred to Cathy and me, "Interestingly, my parents don't think it's a terrible holiday anymore either."

That brings up an important topic. Is it okay for a person's attitudes to change on a subject so centered on the eternal conflict of Light and Darkness?

Well, obviously, people can change opinions almost as quickly as ping pong balls skip back and forth across the net. But, when is it appropriate? I will take a stab at a few questions we can ask ourselves. Hopefully, they will help.

1. Is my current opinion consistent with my other views on life?

Beth correctly pointed out that we had changed our mind. Why? First, because we were inconsistent. We were rejecting Halloween because of its history in paganism, but we weren't rejecting Christmas for the same reason. Yes, Christmas has it's December 25th roots in a pagan celebration.

But there is another inconsistency. On the one hand, we were trying build up bridges to engage our culture with the love of Christ. The more we embraced legalism, the more we built walls instead. I wrote about the positive side of our changed attitude last year.

2. Is my current opinion firmly grounded in my belief system?

One day a group of religious leaders pushed a woman to the feet of Jesus and said, "She was caught in the act of adultery." (John 8) Their attempt to trap Jesus was a sign of their own hypocrisy. It takes two, you know. Where was the man? If they were interested in righteousness, where was the man? In other words, they were more concerned about pushing their opinion on others than they were dealing with sin.

While a bit humorous, the radio commentator whom Beth mentioned; the one who considered Halloween a Democratic holiday -- because kids get something for nothing -- was just as dangerous as those religious leaders. You see, the religious leaders felt justified (some of them had likely used her services before) because they had paid for their sins by religious acts. What Jesus offered the sinful woman was something for nothing.

For Cathy and me, we came to grips that we are broken, sinful people in a broken sinful world. We can either embrace other sinners as we have been embraced or we can shun them because they don't live up to our religious standard.

3. What is my attitude toward those who disagree with me?

I think this question is very self-revealing. Many years ago, during the same season I went on the warpath against Halloween, I legalistically began driving the speed limit. Then I promptly got mad at every driver who passed me on the highway (which was most of them).

As God continues to do heart surgery on me year after year, I have an observation about my anger. I'm not so sure that I was really angry at those who drove like I used to. I was more angry that I couldn't do it anymore because of my legalistic choice. So much for, "Beloved, let us love one another..." (1 John 4:7)

If you find yourself constantly angry at those who disagree with you, perhaps it's because you aren't fully comfortable with your answers to the first two questions.

All that said, Happy Halloween. Enjoy your candy! I'm pretty much abstaining.

And, no, I'm not angry about it!

More Heat Than Light

It has been over thirty years since I opened the door to our little, two-bedroom house. The lady who had walked in kindly invited us to a Bible Study. A series of questions and answers brought several facts to the surface:

1. She was from a church whose beliefs were significantly different than ours.

2. Her church tended to think that they were the only true believers.

3. The fact that I was already a Christian, already an experienced church staff member and finishing my education toward the pastorate meant nothing. I was wrong because I wasn't a part of her brand of church.

I was incensed. I was defensive. In the end, I was rude. I showed her the door and never saw her again.

Today I'm ashamed that I got so angry and acted with such arrogance. If I met her again, I would apologize.

I thought of that lady after yesterday's post. I wondered if I might offend some of you by showing it. I tried to guess your thoughts as to why I included it in my blog.

The truth is that I am not angry at the pastor who will be burning books and Bibles on Halloween. Neither do I think it funny. I just think it's sad.

We live in a world that needs hope. They need the unconditional love which God offers through Jesus Christ. Yet, when some of them think of Christ and His followers this month...

...they will pull out a mental picture of a church burning books.

Drivin' Back The Enemy!

It's rare, but I need to communicate in a different way, today...

Do you think they will want to burn this blog?

The Man With The Shining Eyes

I read yesterday that Rev. Bill Watkins passed away over the weekend. Bill was almost 84 years young and had been scheduled to perform another man's funeral in a few days. I first got to know Bill in the early 1990s when we worked together on a Billy Graham associate crusade. He taught me more that he ever imagined about having a positive, loving spirit. He worked hard on that project and helped bridge the gap between otherwise disconnected churches.

Bill taught me something else he couldn't have known. I'm a bit ashamed to tell you the lesson, but I must. You see, Bill was a Presbyterian.

"So what?", you ask.

I grew up a Baptist.

Baptists were right. Therefore, we were right. Everyone else was...uh, not right!

We had the best Bible Study literature, the largest seminaries and the hugest protestant denomination in the country.

We sent out one of, if not the biggest missionary force in history.

Did I say we were right?

Everyone else -- including Presbyterians -- was suspect. If they were right, they would be Baptist.

(God, please forgive my arrogance!)

I met Bill Watkins, a man with shining eyes, a great sense of humor, a mature love for Christ and a deep well of compassion for people. He lived his sermons.

He helped open my eyes and change my heart.

I will forever be grateful to Bill. When I get to heaven, I can't wait to thank him personally!

I Have A Confession To Make...

...I'm not very religious anymore.

That may sound strange. I'm a pastor, after all! I have to admit that, for years, I got a warm feeling in my heart every time I saw a fish on the back of a car. (Unless it was one of those Darwin thingys.) Each time I saw one, I thought, "Those are my people! They're one of US!"

I don't think that way anymore. Why? Because the natural conclusion is that everyone who isn't one of us is one of them. And the more I read the Gospels, the more I am amazed at Jesus. He seemed to live in an us and them society, too. The difference? The us of His generation constantly criticized Him for hanging around with them! I'm convinced that, if they had cars back then and two different ones stopped to offer Jesus a ride, He would have intentionally chosen the one without the fish.

Now that I have your attention, you might not be surprised at a type of conversation I occasionally have with new people at our church. It goes something like this... After a service, some one/couple/family finds me in our lobby. They smile, shake my hand and tell me their names. Often they tell me what a great service we just had and a little bit about themselves. In the course of just a few sentences, they begin to show their obvious attitude that they are insiders. They're not like those people outside the church. Usually their vocabulary is punctuated with terms that only insiders could understand.

Now don't get me wrong. I love people like that. How can I not? I was one for so long! But something changed. Now it is my responsibility to make them aware of something so that they won't be misled...

I say something like, "It seems from your background and the way that you describe yourselves that you really enjoy spending time with church people. I need to warn you that we aren't very religious in our church. We go out of our way not to use churchy language. We try to meet people where they are and every week we have people attend here who aren't sure about Christ. They don't know if they want to follow Him or if they will believe in Him. They do know that they are welcome and can come as long and often as they want and won't be considered outsiders."

In live conversation, I don't think I'm as careful with my words as in the above paragraph. I bluntly told one couple, "I don't think we're as religious as you are."

They didn't come back. I have a feeling that they are out there somewhere praying for this heathen pastor they met.

I hope so, anyway.

A Funny Thing Happened

I'm a pastor. I work at a church. I've heard about every priest/rabbi/pastor joke in existence. I have laughed at various stories -- some real and some fictitious -- about stuff which happened at church. But I had never heard this one!

I was sitting in a meeting with four of our leaders at lunch yesterday. We were getting acquainted because some of them didn't know everyone that well. One guy, a retired military man who moved here from another state, told us about an experience in a former church.

He said that, when the church was somewhat small, they needed new carpet for their sanctuary. Choosing the color became a huge argument between different members who had varying opinions about a color scheme.

During that era, the small city where he lived had a network of giant butane tanks, along with underground lines which took the fuel to buildings. A large energy company came into their city with natural gas and routed it though the existing channels. They didn't realize that some of the gas was pooling underground.

Until it blew up.

Right under the church building.

He said hymnbooks were found on the other side of town (which gives new meaning to "I'll Fly Away"). The building was obliterated.

I guess it stopped the controversy over carpet color!

Blue Suede Shoes

A comic strip we read recently showed a little boy asking help to tie his daddy's tie. Obviously, the tie was twice as long as the boy was tall. It's funny, though, the things we keep trapped in the recesses of memory.

You see, I used to wear my dad's ties to church. They had clip-on ties for boys, but most of the time I preferred one of my dad's. The only way for it to "fit" was to leave a verrrry long tail on the back side of it. Then I tucked the tail into my shirt. Practical!

Men wore dark suits and women wore nice dresses to church when I was growing up. They still do in some places around this nation, but not here. In fact, a man with a tie on in our church is usually there for the first time.

I'm the pastor and I wear a sports shirt and casual slacks. Some of you are from parts of the country where churchgoing is a bit more formal, so let me explain.

First, this is a pretty laid-back community. We're right on the border of California and influenced by their casual way of life. Most of the business people in this town wear more relaxed clothing. Many of the men I know rarely put a tie on for anything. Some don't even own one.

Second, many of the adults who attend our church have limited (if any) previous church background. Because we believe that Jesus demonstrated the value of meeting people where they were and communicating in a way they could understand, we think he would be dressing casually here, also.

I would be interested to know how people dress when they attend church in your town...

Before you leave me today, our Boston son-in-law started a new blog yesterday. I mention it because because Cathy and I think it's an absolute hoot!. If you have a few minutes, cruise on over there. Warning: it's probably addictive!

The Biggest Loser?

After my wife and I had been married for a few years, we went on a little retreat. I can't really remember where we went, but it was some kind of Christian camp and it was off-season. That means we were about the only ones there. We took a walk and noticed a tether ball just hanging there begging for a game.

Now I'm a reasonably good-hearted guy and I wanted to make sure I didn't do anything to spoil the great time we were having. Therefore, I decided to "take it easy" on her. She immediate took advantage of the situation and demolished me! Certain that I had made it too simple for her to win, I amped it up a bit. She stomped me again! After several games and total humiliation of my male ego, we (blessedly) quit.

It turns out that my wife is quite a competitor and she LOVES games. We play some sort of table game at mealtime almost every day and sometimes we play at both lunch and supper. It only takes 10 or 15 minutes and it's an important part of our marriage. Our current game is a fast-paced double solitaire we call Pounce. Some of you call it Nerts. We both have winning streaks from time to time and she is currently heaping me with daily doses of humility.

Still, I hate to lose! It's as if a volcano erupts within me when I can't seem to get ahead. Why is that? Am I really so fragile that a meaningless table game can spoil my meal? How does that fit in with the Fruit of the Spirit?

My struggle in this part of life is like a microcosm of something which I think is far more important: it's hard to rejoice when my church seems to struggle and another one is doing well! I started learning this many years ago. A young married couple started attending the church I pastored in Phoenix. Our church was growing rapidly at the time and they were an important part of it, leading a class of others their age. After about two years with us, the man approached me and asked my permission to try other churches. I was impressed by his humility and knew that I must say "yes" even though it broke my heart.

They tried a church or two, then he started a small fellowship of his own. What made it especially painful was that most of the people in his new church were ones who used to attend the class he taught in ours. They had gradually filtered away from us and most were still looking for a place to call home and he was able to provide it.

Within a year or so after that, I was asked to be pastor in Yuma. The move to a place three hours away completely changed my perspective! I'm sad to admit this now, by I no longer saw my friend as a competitor. In fact, before long, he was calling me asking for help with things like preschool policies.

Over twenty years have gone by. That church my young friend started with a handful of people is now one of the largest churches in Arizona. Literally hundreds and hundreds of people have come to Christ through their ministry. Once I got past the horrible thoughts of competition, I was able to embrace what had really happened: God was expanding His Kingdom and I got to be a part of it. I now proudly refer to that pastor as a son in ministry. One of the men who came to Christ in that church told me some years ago: "You're my spiritual grandfather!" Definitely not the competition.

I'll leave this one here for now. My wife is at the table shuffling cards!