Night

"When it's dark and night takes over, all the forest creatures come out.

The young lions roar for their prey, clamoring to God for their supper.

When the sun comes up, they vanish, lazily stretched out in their dens.

Meanwhile, men and women go out to work, busy at their jobs until evening.

What a wildly wonderful world, GOD!

You made it all, with Wisdom at your side, made earth overflow with your wonderful creations."

Psalm 104:20-24, as paraphrased by Eugene Peterson in The Message

Last night as we sat together in our living room, Holly and I heard the almost forgotten sound of falling rain. As it drummed away on the metallic casing of the a.c. unit in our backyard, we listened to the noise and asked each other, "what is that?"

Rain. Remember rain? The liquid stuff that falls out of the sky and keeps us all alive. It's hard to believe that in a summer that saw Douglasville get 14 inches of rain in one 48 hour period, it's now been dry enough for long enough that the green things of our world have actually started turning brown.

Fall is on its way, but the baby-rooted sod in our front yard hasn't lost its color because of oncoming cold. It has simply dried out, and this grass-owner has grown too busy and stingy to keep turning on the sprinklers. New Orleans is underwater, but my grass has dehydrated in Douglasville. Who can figure it out?

Early this morning, when I opened our back door so that our groggy dog could run free into the grass and complete her "to do" list for the day, I swear the world looked greener. Even in my artificially-planted, mostly-treeless piece of suburban frontier, the tint had been adjusted from dingy green-brown to an almost-normal green, overnight. Newly energized chlorophyll was doing its thing, and God's ancient promise of life was fulfilled again, for one more day. God is to creation what Oil of Olay promises to be to "mature" skin, a form of nightly renewal.

In his book, God is Closer Than You Think, and in the chapters that we're studying this week at Shepherd of the Hills, John Ortberg says:

"Actually, the first task of the day is to go to sleep...we think of a day beginning when the sun comes up or when the alarm clock goes off or when Starbucks opens. But the ancient rhythm of days is different. In the creation account, the order is always the same: 'And there was evening and there was morning -- the first day.' Each day in creation begins with evening. In Jewish life, the Sabbath begins not at sunup, but sundown. Eugene Peterson notes that in this way the biblical writers help us to remember: Everything doesn't depend on me. I go to sleep, God goes to work. It's his day. The world keeps spinning, tides ebb and flow, lives begin and end even though I am not there to superintend any of it. God is present when I sleep" (Ortberg 72-73).

You know, he's got a point. From 11:00 pm last night until about 6:30 this morning, I slept. Like a baby. And you know, the world went right on without me. I was not "there to superintend any of it." No doubt, if I'd stayed up and worried hard enough, I could have changed all the bad things that happened, right? I could claim credit for all the good things that happened, too, I'm sure. Instead, I slept --- and the grass still got greener.

Perspective is a wonderful thing. It's not always the thing we want, but I find that it's almost always the thing that we often need most in our lives. Psalm 104 is a wonderful piece of spiritual perspective. There are moments when I need to understand my relative size in this world. There are times when I need to remember that there is more than what's right in front of me. All of us need to make sure that from time to time we open our doors and walk outside, just to have a look around.

We should never let a year pass without standing beside the vastness of the ocean, or gazing up from the foot of an awesome mountain. The next time that you fly into Atlanta, especially if your flight home arrives after dark, make sure you get a window seat. Savor the moment when you see the city's various skylines unfold before you, into the distance. Ponder the sheer magnitude of the city lights that spread as far as you can see in all directions.

Sometimes we resist such experiences because they make us question our own sense of validity and purpose. The undeniable power of an ocean that could so easily swallow and destroy us makes the fragile nature of our weak, tiny bodies all too readily apparent. The sight of a teeming city makes us wonder how the single story of our own life could matter when it's simply one among millions.

And yet, it's this very kind of perspective, brought by such moments of uncomfortable knowledge that makes our faith real, strong and useful.

In the depths of our hearts, we must acknowledge that God is in control and we are not. We must accept the reality of our dependence on God, even when it means giving up our finely crafted self-deceptions.

Many nights came and went in this world before I was ever on the scene. Many more will come and go without me. God will renew and sustain and keep his promises. Like me, God seems to have a thing for lawns, and he gives them what they need. And also like me, God loves his children a whole lot more than his yard. He promises to renew and sustain us, too, if we'll let him.

When it's "dark and night takes over," God is in control. It's gotten dark nearly 40,000 times since my great-grandfather was born 107 years ago. Nearly 8,000 have passed since his death. My youngest son has seen the sunset only 802 times. Hopefully, I've got a good 20 or 30 thousand sunsets left myself (come on, medical technology!).

But no matter how many remain, it's good to know that God is in charge of them all. The tides will keep up their work of ebb and flow, the world will rotate, grass will grow, rain will fall, and none of it will depend on me. A little at a time, I'm learning that lesson, and it's a powerful place of peace.

May God grant us evenings and mornings filled with activity, rest, love and perspective. What a wildly wonderful world.

I'll see you this Sunday,
Adam

LIFE AT SOTH:
Many thanks are owed to John Sheffield for our awesome new newsletter format. Thanks to Kelly Smith for technical assistance, and to Jim Canup for posting on our website. You'll get a hard copy in the next few days (if you're on our mailing list), but if you want to preview now, you can download the .pdf file at www.sothumc.net

Friday night, we'll have our third installment of "Generation on Fire." This is such a great event --- with live music, food and coffee, and lots of great conversation. It is an awesome time and the perfect thing to invite a SOTH first-timer to attend.

This evening at 7pm, we'll continue our book study, God is Closer Than You Think. Over 60 adults were in attendance last week, which is incredible. If you haven't been and will need childcare tonight, please give us a call and let us know at 770-920-1551.

SOTH has invited the community to worship through our "God Is Closer" mailer that we sent last week. A great follow-up might be a personal invitation from you to your friends and neighbors.

Green Light

"It looks like EVERYBODY'S going to be on green light today," said the little child in the back seat, with great enthusiasm. "Get it? ...Green Light?" He laughed heartily at his own joke, a most endearing characteristic inherited from his old man.

Sure enough, the light was green. It wasn't the funniest joke I'd ever heard, but for a 5 year old at 7:50 a.m., it wasn't a bad attempt. And I was definitely a "tough crowd," running on too little sleep, too little coffee, and a mind consumed by the day's list of tasks that were yet to be completed.

As our turn came to swing out onto Chapel Hill Road, the boy continued. He would further his discussion of Kindergarten crowd-control tactics. "Do you know where we keep the clips? Behind the door. That's where you have to go to move your clip." Having heard about this before, I wasn't completely lost. "That's when you get in trouble, huh," I said.

"Right," he said, affirming that my statement was correct, yet indicating that he would have to give me yet another remedial lesson in the ways of education. "You start on blue light, then green. That's a warning. Then, yellow. I guess that's like a DOUBLE WARNING."

I had to play along, heightening the dramatic build up to the final stage of traffic light lessons in right and wrong, good and evil. "Then," he said, "you go to RED light." A moment of silence. "_______ went to red light yesterday." Two moments of silence, a show of respect for the awesome power that is "red light."

"That means you have to stand at the fence (during recess, no less) for TEN WHOLE MINUTES!!" "Wow," I said, "that sounds like a long time." "Yeah," he said.

What more was there to say?

There are kindergarten lessons of action and consequence that would probably help us old folks, too. Can't you just hear the water cooler talk on Thursday morning? "Hey Bob, did you stay on blue light so far this week?" Bob, disgusted, says, "No. Man, I was talking during the meeting and went straight to green." "Too bad, dude, I guess you'll have to wait until next week to get something out of the prize bag. But, looks like I'm gonna make it, and I hear that this week there are hot wheels in there."

My boy is beginning to learn the lessons of life. Actions have consequences. Cooperation is a good thing. Life together is possible, if we all learn to share and get along. Some folks push the rules further than others, but the rules will push back. Ten minutes on the fence is a long time.

As we pulled up to the drop-off at his school, my little paratrooper put on his pack, pushed out the door and bailed free, into the great wide open. His mission: maintain status "blue light" through Friday at 15:00, and obtain hot wheels vehicle from the prize bag. Resolute, he spotted his comrades-in-arms and immediately accelerated to a trot. Soon, he was beyond my sight and I drove away, leaving him to all that his day would hold.

He may or may not accomplish the mission. So far, we haven't seen "yellow," though green is not an uncommon occurrence. Either way, lessons will be learned, and tomorrow will be another new beginning. That little boy can rest assured that whatever happens, on any of his days, his father's love will never change.

Somehow that sounds familiar.

Matthew 7:7-11 7 "Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 8 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 9 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? 10 Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? 11 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!"

May the Father who loves us give us those good gifts, even if the gift is a much-needed trip to green light.

Grace and Peace,
Adam

POEM FOR THE DAY:
(Because poetry is like spinach, it can be tough going, but you know it's really good for you)

"Changing Diapers" by Gary Snyder, from Axe Handles © Shoemaker & Hoard, Washington D.C.

Changing Diapers

How intelligent he looks!
on his back
both feet caught in my one hand
his glance set sideways,
on a giant poster of Geronimo
with a Sharp's repeating rifle by his knee.

I open, wipe, he doesn't even notice
nor do I.
Baby legs and knees
toes like little peas
little wrinkles, good-to-eat,
eyes bright, shiny ears
chest swelling drawing air,

No trouble, friend,
you and me and Geronimo
are men.

LIFE AT SOTH:
Tonight is our monthly dinner at the church, followed by the second installment of the God is Closer Than You Think study at 7pm. Thanks to everyone for all the great feedback and for the awesome attendance last week --- nearly 50 adults were present. Our dinner will follow the same plan as usual and we'll just make the transition from supper right into the study in our worship space. It'll be loud and a little messy, but we can make it work. If you can't make it until 7:00 or later, please come on in anyway, get your supper and feel free to eat while you listen.

Kanye

"George Bush does not care about black people."

This stark statement hung in the air as a stunned Mike Meyers (think "Austin Powers") heard his own chin hit the floor in disbelief. He and rapper / producer Kanye West were paired together to read scripted comments about the levee breaches in New Orleans. They were taking part in the live, musical fundraiser broadcast on NBC last Friday, and were supplying the celebrity segue between performers.

Kanye, however, had no intention of staying on script. Given the opportunity to speak live and direct to the American people, he seized the moment and spoke his mind. The wonderful thing about our nation, of course, is that each of us are allowed to do this. Freedom of speech rules the day. The not-so-wonderful thing is that when it comes to certain issues --- race being chief among them --- we're not really supposed to exercise that right.

For whatever reason, this often seems especially true in church. Folks don't like it when we talk about money, especially at church. Never are we to mention sex, and this is especially true at church, even though so much teaching on Christian perspectives on human sexuality is needed. But most of all, perhaps, we don't talk about race or class, and the role that those things play in our society. Especially at church!

Maybe this is because we want to leave church feeling "good," and when we get into addressing issues like these that are very personal and difficult to resolve, we just leave feeling all "unresolved" instead. Or worse yet, somebody might get mad, which is always the last thing anybody wants to see and we all know "getting mad" is the greatest church trump card of them all.

So, do we never talk in our faith community about the uncomfortable specifics of the stuff that really matters? Whatever you think about Kanye West, I'm glad he said what he did, because at least we're starting to talk to each other. Maybe. My fear, however, is that we're not talking to each other so much as being "talked to" by the media. So, I hope to start a conversation today that transcends hype and makes us reflect on the motives of our hearts.

First, let me say that Kanye's comments have drawn some fair criticism. His statement passes judgment on the inner-workings of the President's heart and questions his personal morality. This is not something that any of us can fairly judge about another person, and I think that we always need to use some caution when it comes to painting anyone with such a broad brush. To place total blame for the massive failings of our disaster response system on the back of one person is an oversimplification of a series of complex failures. Those failures seem to have happened across every level of government.

George W. Bush also professes Christian faith, and moreover, he is a United Methodist. Now, membership in our great denomination certainly does not immunize a person against racism. I would often be the last to defend some of his policy positions, and I have the feeling that he and I might disagree a good bit theologically. But still, he is our President, and a Christian, and so I want to believe with all my heart that he does care about people, regardless of race, and that his faith compels him toward compassion for everyone.

We would make a huge mistake if we interpreted the events of Hurricane Katrina solely on the basis of race. Kanye West is wrong, as we would be, if we believe that the needed rescue was so long in coming solely because the vast majority of those caught in New Orleans were black. I really think that view is too simplistic and is motivated primarily, though understandably, by emotion.

All of us should be more concerned about the gross incompetence that was demonstrated at every level of government and consider the fact that we could all be at risk in a time of disaster. Our government simply did not do its best job in protecting and aiding its citizens, especially those citizens who were poorest and most vulnerable. In New Orleans, those citizens were mostly black.

But, there is another, even more dangerous mistake that we could make. Many white people that I've talked to, seen on tv and heard on the radio want to believe that race played no role in the days after Katrina. Even more than this, they generally demand that there should be no talk about racism, and talking about such issues is nothing less than "race-baiting." For these people, West's remarks border on unpatriotic and subversive.

My feeling is that if Kanye West's statement was an oversimplification of the facts and across the line of judgmentalism, then believing that race played no factor is simply a head-in-the-sand trip through a white person's dreamworld.

When we all began to see the pictures of people crowding outside the Superdome and Civic Center in New Orleans, only the most hard-hearted among us did not feel a sympathy for the people who suffered. But, I simply can't help wondering whether the depth of emotion that each of us felt wasn't directly proportional to how much the people in the pictures looked like us.

What I mean is this. I believe that white Americans (including the President) were sympathetic to what was happening, but what Kanye West expressed was not merely sympathy. It was empathy. Empathy doesn't mean simply feeling sorry for someone -- it means identifying with their suffering, and feeling that suffering as though it were your very own.

There are ugly realities of racism still at work within each of us and within our nation that have to be acknowledged if they're ever to be overcome. When any of us see suffering children who look like they could be our own sons or daughters, our hearts are moved past sympathy to empathy. Often, whether we're white or black, we fail to see people of other races with that same depth of connection.

As much as I wish that I could believe something else, in my heart I agree with a part of the sentiment expressed by Mr. West. If the images coming from New Orleans had been of my white wife carrying our little white boys through floodwater, or if the image had been my white face crying over my dead white child, something would have happened more quickly.

As Americans, we are of divided minds on this issue. As a Christian and a pastor, my role is to call all of us to deeper relationship with God and one another. There's simply no way I can do that task effectively without calling each person prayer and reflection, no matter how painful. Each of us need to ask God to show us ways that we can become more aware of the latent racism in our hearts and lives. Each of us has great room for much growth and improvement.

I am so proud of Shepherd of the Hills for being a place that white and black people love one another as brothers and sisters in Christ. My prayer is that we will see our congregation lead the way for our community and for the United Methodist churches of our area with regard to the living of a real, powerful diversity. Some would say that we're "color blind," or that at least we're heading that direction. I'd challenge that assertion, as to whether it's even possible, or whether such as idea would really be good in the first place. You see, we really are all different.

The strength of our country and of our church is in that very fact -- we are all different. We are of different races, different political persuasions, different theologically and economically. We have different talents, gifts and graces. The miracle of the church, and of Shepherd of the Hills is that we don't have to all be the same. God calls us to embrace difference, and to celebrate those differences, while holding fast to our greater unity in Christ.

If being "color blind" means we all come out gray, I choose to see all the colors. What I pray is that God will give me a heart transformed beyond the culture in which I've been formed. I want to see the colors, and feel a real empathy for anyone who suffers. Whether a person looks like me or not, I pray that God will help me each day to feel another's suffering as though it were my own.

As people of Christ, I believe that God can use us to show the world what that kind of community is all about. We will love each other. We will struggle together. We will disagree and remain united. We will even transform our world. May God forgive us, and heal us and always use us for the making of something better than the things we find today.

Grace and Peace,
Adam

LIFE AT SOTH:

Tonight -- Tonight -- Tonight!!! 7 PM, Our first study on the book, God is Closer Than You Think. It looks like we're going to have huge attendance and this is really exciting for me and in the life of our church. If you didn't sign up, come on anyway and we'll get you in. Our study will continue these next 6 Wednesday nights. Childcare is available, but if you haven't reserved that yet, please give us a call in the office to let us know (770) 920-1551.

NATIONAL DAY OF PRAYER: President Bush has asked Americans to observe a national day of prayer for hurricane victims this Friday. SOTH will create a "prayer chapel" at the far end of "the ranch," our ministry house/office located next to the church. Come in the far-end, carport entrance and you'll find seating, an altar, cross, some good quiet and materials to help focus your thoughts and prayers. The space will be open from 8:30 a.m. until 10 p.m.

Blessed

In the days since Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and the Gulf Coast, we’ve all had plenty of difficult images to absorb. The stories have been so plentiful, so full of tragedy and heartbreak that at times I feel as though I’ve reached the limit of what I can take in. If I’m being honest, and knowing how truly calloused this sounds, I must admit that I need a hurricane break. Just for a day, even just for a couple of hours, I’d love to have something else to think about.

And then this morning I had to go and encounter the words of Christ in scripture. This morning’s text on sacred space was from Luke 6:20-23. Jesus tells us that the poor, the hungry, the weeping --- these are the people most blessed by God.

Now, while that may sound great in theory, out there in a “sermon on the mount” or “plain” depending which Gospel you’re reading, we’ve now seen what poverty and desperation look like in real life, up close and personal. We all know that in any society, it’s the poor who are at the most risk. Our instincts are to work and scratch and save, so that we can insure that we and our families are protected from that risk.

Blessed are the poor, Jesus says, but they’re also the ones who wind up at the Superdome and the New Orleans Convention Center, waiting for buses that just don’t come. They’re the ones that watch their infants and elderly die of dehydration, the ones who become victims of violence and anger, the ones who perpetrate that violence on others.

Of all the words that come to mind for describing the pictures of those suffering Americans, “blessed” just really isn’t one of them. And yet, Jesus looked at his disciples and said, in effect, “those poor people, hungry and weeping, those who are hated and excluded and defamed, those are my people. The Kingdom is theirs, and they are blessed” (my paraphrase).

In my world, that just doesn’t make good sense. The last time I checked, 2 + 2 still equals 4, but what if…what if Jesus’ concept of mathematics is just a little different than mine? What if it’s altogether different?

Yesterday I had the privilege of driving a recently relocated citizen of Hattiesburg, Mississippi to Lifepoint Ministries. “Kevin” (real name withheld) wanted to attend the job fair being held there for hurricane victims who are now living in our county, but he had no means of transportation. As Katrina bore down upon him, he caught a ride with some neighbors who were heading to Atlanta. They dropped him in our town, where he is now staying with some old friends.

By any American standard, Kevin is poor. The Hattiesburg apartment he managed to rent on his minimum wage salary was mostly destroyed by the high winds and rain. He doesn’t know what remains of his personal possessions. He left his car behind because he didn’t know if his tires were adequate to make the trip. He wants to go back and get it, but doesn’t know how he would get back, or whether his car even made it through the storm undamaged. He now has no job in Hattiesburg, because the gas station where he worked as a cashier has been destroyed. He plans to stay in Douglasville long-term, and he’s starting with little more than the clothes on his back.

Do you know what he told me? “All my family got out. Thank God, I got out and I still have my life. You know, I am really (you guessed it)…blessed.” That word rang in my head this morning as I heard Jesus use it to describe people in a similar situation two millennia ago.

Blessed. Am I blessed because my closet is full, because my house is intact, because there is food in my refrigerator, or because the tires on my vehicles still have a little tread on them? Or does real blessing run a little deeper than our “stuff?”

Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for all that I have, but sometimes even the way we express that sentiment of thanksgiving comes to sound as though we value those things more than our relationship with the one who gives them.

A few years ago I encountered a doctor in Augusta who was leaving his very successful and lucrative practice to return to a career of full-time medical missionary service in Africa. He said, “you know, when I’m here, it’s so much harder to see God.” I pressed him further to understand exactly what he meant. “Here,” he said, “I don’t see God so easily, because I see the grocery store, and the highway system, the bank, and my house my office and my church building. I see the “things” of life and become dependent on them for my security, rather than dependent upon God.” And then he said this, "when I'm in the mission field, I'm clear that it's God who keeps me alive."

That moment has stayed with me. Maybe 2 + 2 for Jesus really does equal something unexpected. If there is no other way for us to see through the false reality of our world and stay focused on real relationship with God, then let us become poor and hungry. Let's weep, and be hated. Let's become defamed and excluded because of Jesus. All of it is worth the blessing of real relationship with him.

Remember, Jesus made big points, in big ways. “If your eye causes you to sin,” he said, “pluck it out.” Be clear, I neither advocate the plucking of eyes, nor the practice of self-inflicted poverty. But I do advocate, and struggle daily to practice, the honest and frequent self-inspection of the soul that we all need so badly.

The events of recent days invite us to respond. In the coming weeks, months and years, we will have many opportunities to stand among the poor, which means standing among the very ones that Jesus called “blessed.” Our current partnership with Lifepoint and the other churches of our community reveal a tiny window on that “Kingdom” Jesus described.

That kingdom-picture may not look much like you thought it would. It may be scattered and disorganized, chaotic and at times disheartening. There will be no diaper-clad angels plinking harps or inspiring shafts of light cascading down from heaven. When crowded with volunteers and those who have come for help, there is a real physical and mental discomfort in that place. Rarely in our world do we see the veil of our seeming independence so brutally torn away. Frustration and confusion often result from the overwhelming nature of the task at hand.

But if we can manage to look and enter, we might just catch a glimpse of what is there, underneath it all. There is faith. Perspective. Relationship. Dependence on God and each other. Community. A word to those who weep today --- Jesus promises a future full of laughter. For those who laugh, let us weep a while until the laughter returns for everyone. These are God’s promises, and may God’s blessings be upon us all.

Grace and Peace,
Adam

LIFE AT SOTH

Hopefully our chain of e-mails has helped with any confusion around how to volunteer at Lifepoint. At this time, we're in good shape for drivers, and we're still encouraging those who want to volunteer to simply go to Lifepoint at 2990 Bright Star Rd., anytime between 9 a.m and 10 p.m., 7 days a week. Thank you SOTH for your wonderful contribution of over $1600 this week for the cooperative response happening through the churches of our county! This Sunday, we'll have a special offering for UMCOR with 100% of funds going directly into affected areas.

Don't forget, "God is Closer Than You Think" starts next Wedneday night, 9/14/5 at 7pm in our worship space. We're going to start right on time, so plesae make it on time if at all possible. If you still need a book, make payment this Sunday and we'll have one there for you at the first session.

A WORD FROM OUR BISHOP, G. LINDSEY DAVIS

Dear North Georgia Conference family:

The news about the destruction and devastation of Hurricane Katrina is
everywhere. You can't turn on the television or radio without
receiving more information about those who have been deeply affected
by this tragedy.

The thread of truth that travels through these stories is that we are
witnessing the worst natural disaster in United States history. As we
watch this catastrophe continue to unfold right before our eyes,
desperate cries for basic needs and financial assistance continues to
be heard from the people of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and
Georgia.

Friends, I am proud to say that United Methodists of North Georgia
have been actively supporting and loving the people of these
devastated states since day one of this tragedy. You have heard these
cries from the needy, and have responded well. I am overwhelmed by
the humble compassion, kindness, and generosity that you have shown
your brothers and sisters in need, and I heartily thank you.

There is, in fact, so much assistance being offered by our churches we
can barely keep up with all that you are doing! In the midst of your
ministry over the weeks ahead I ask that you please take a few moments
to email me (bishop@ngumc.org) with some specific information about
how your congregation is reaching out to those touched by this natural
disaster over the next few months:

How many displaced persons have been helped with support or housing;
How many flood buckets, health kits, etc. have you constructed;
How many loads of supplies have been sent from your church;
How many volunteers from your church have been active in these efforts

The after-effects of hurricane Katrina have only just begun. The
recovery and rejuvenation of people's homes and hearts will take
months - even years. The floodwaters may have begun to subside;
however, I'm afraid to say that we are in store for some pretty
gruesome and disturbing news to come.

As we will continue to hear these updates it is important to remember
the word Emmanuel, and hold true to the promise that God never leaves
us. Even while we are in the midst of the worst US natural disaster,
God is here with all of us- kindly loving us, benevolently supporting
us, and gently comforting us.

As your Bishop, and as a fellow Christian, I thank you for the care
you are offering Christ's people.

In Christ,
Bishop G. Lindsey Davis