“With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.”
With these words, the President concluded his speech on that Saturday morning long ago. He was being sworn into office for the second time, having won a landslide election because the course of the war had turned in his country’s favor.
As the day’s ceremonies came to a close, he exited the platform and entered the inaugural reception feeling confident about the words he had delivered. But, one man’s opinion mattered to him most of all.
He had seen his friend in the gallery, listening intently to his words as they escaped into the pages of history.
…What would Fred think?
“Fred” was having some trouble making his way through security. As an invited guest of the President, he attempted to enter the reception, only to be stopped and held in custody on two different occasions.
No person of color had ever attended a presidential affair, much less at the personal invitation of the President himself. “Tell Mr. Lincoln that Fred Douglass is at the door,” he yelled to a guest.
Within a few moments, he found himself face-to-face with “Honest Abe.”
“Douglass…” said the President, “there’s no man’s opinion I value more than yours, what do you think of it?”
With many well-wishers crowding in, and many more waiting for their moment with Abraham Lincoln, Frederick Douglas felt the need to give a quick word that would somehow communicate the depth of his feeling for the speech The President had given.
“Mr. Lincoln,” he said, “It was a sacred effort.”
Fast-forward almost 141 years to find this pastor on the couch, comfy, basking in the glory of some much-needed President’s Day time off. I was watching as the true story you just heard unfolded before me, trickling down through the decades via television documentary.
I really hadn’t thought much about our Presidents this past Monday. I’d taken care of errands that had been put off. I’d tried to catch up on the tv shows that have been sitting on our DVR since before Christmas. I’d been generally, wonderfully, worthless for the day.
Then, I was caught flat-footed by this amazing encounter from our history. Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln, one on one. Two of our greatest Americans, catching a quick word at a cocktail party. Two of our greatest orators and statesmen, one elbowing the other to say, “Well, did I do ok?” It’s an amazing moment to glimpse, but even more amazing was Douglass’ response.
"It was a sacred effort."
I don’t think there’s a much higher compliment any of us could ever hope for.
If something is sacred, it carries an element of the holy. It is set apart for a particular purpose, somehow giving reverence and honor to God himself.
"It was a sacred effort." If our epitaphs are one day bound up by that simple statement, how blessed we would truly be.
But what are the odds that any of us will ever give a first, much less second, inaugural address?
Not real good.
What are the odds that we will ever issue an “emancipation proclamation” or preserve the Union, or write great works of civil rights, or change the very fabric of our nation?
What does it take for something to be sacred?
Well, it doesn’t take greatness. It takes intention. It takes purpose. It takes faith.
Getting up and going to work tomorrow can be a sacred effort. Changing those diapers and making those bottles can be a sacred effort. Acts of patience and kindness for your aging parents are sacred efforts. Having that conversation, smiling at that child, boosting someone’s confidence, helping someone even just a little, all of it, is nothing less than sacred.
I am thankful for the great people who have gone before us. I am grateful for those who have led us in great and powerful ways, and for those who have become highly acclaimed and widely renowned for all that they have done.
But I’m also thankful for my childhood Sunday School teachers. I’m thankful for all the folks who were my coaches through my childhood, for my mentors, my family members, and for those who have shaped who I have been and am becoming.
I’m thankful for the folks who do their jobs, whatever they might be, with dedication and responsibility, even though no one will know their name or thank them for what they have given. I’m thankful for the infinite and sacred acts of life that are committed all around us, every single day.
“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.”
Tomorrow, let’s tell jokes. Let’s cry if we need to. Let’s help each other. Let’s pray. Let’s work. Let’s rest, and eat, and sleep and love and live the life that God calls us to, whatever it might be.
Whatever it is, we will do it for God, and so...it will be a sacred effort.
Grace + Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Ready to pull some hamstrings and tear some rotator cuffs? That’s right, it’s softball season again!! We need all interested softball players to e-mail us at : sandi@sothumc.net a.s.a.p. so that we can begin putting together our roster and get registered in our local league. Depending on who is interested, we will be forming a men’s or co-ed team. All men and women are encouraged to play, with games beginning March 6th. Look for more info via SOTH e-mail tomorrow.
Feb 22, 2006
Feb 15, 2006
Big
Remember Tom Hanks growing up over night in the 80's movie, "Big?"
It was an awkward adjustment, to say the least. It's not easy to grow up overnight.
The same is true for churches. Rapid growth can make our heads spin, and leave us asking lots of questions, like, "hey, how big is too big, anyway?"
It was an awkward adjustment, to say the least. It's not easy to grow up overnight.
The same is true for churches. Rapid growth can make our heads spin, and leave us asking lots of questions, like, "hey, how big is too big, anyway?"
Good question. So, how big is too big…when it comes to churches?
In my years as a pastor (all the way back to 1997), I’ve from time-to-time seen good Christians furrow their brow with a worried expression and say, with total sincerity of heart, “I sure hope our church doesn’t get too big.”
I always wonder what that means.
I think it means, “I don’t want to feel like I don’t have a place here.” Or, “I don’t want to feel like nobody knows my name,” or, “I want to know everybody else’s name.” Or maybe it means, “I don’t want us to lose the stuff that makes us who we are.” Or, maybe it’s just an honest and legitimate way of saying, “change…and the unknown…scare me.”
Me too. Change, growth, the unknown…that’s scary stuff.
And besides, we all know how those “big churches” are. They’re cold. They’re shallow. They just treat people like numbers, and don’t help them make deep, life-changing connections. Right?
Mmm, maybe not. A new study, written about in today’s AJC says different. In reality, the “big churches” that surround us probably got big because somebody had a big vision for ministry, and a bunch of somebody’s got together and followed God’s call on their life to make it happen.
Churches grow because a community realizes that life changing things are happening in that place. Now, who are we to decide how many lives God might change through the things that happen in our church?
Usually, the “could we be getting too big?” question comes shortly after the first time that a long-time member walks into worship on a Sunday morning, only to have someone welcome them and ask if it’s their first time at the church.
No doubt, that’s a distasteful experience, even for the most mission and ministry-minded among us. It’s disconcerting to think that someone at your own church might not know that it’s “yours.”
Well, that’s the ironic thing about a church.
It’s not yours. Nor is it mine. It belongs to this guy named…Jesus.
The ironic thing about Jesus’ church is that when it’s fulfilling its mission the best, it can sometimes leave us the most uncertain and intimidated. We are called to “go into all the world and make disciples,” and there are just so many disciples to be made out there that we can’t possibly learn all their names.
They won’t all fit in our own small group. They’re gonna want different things than we want. They’re gonna use our stuff. They’re gonna make a mess. They’re gonna cost money. They’re gonna change the “family” dynamic.
What if “those people” take over?!
Why can’t things just stay the way they are, right?
Deep down, you know why.
There is no, “staying the same.” There is growth, and there is decline, but there is no “neutral.” It just simply doesn’t exist.
Now that’s a challenge, because I really like life just the way it is. Things are good, so why do I need to go wondering if God might have an “even better” out there around the corner?
That’s the question we all need to ask…and I believe that God will help us find the answer. If you love your church, or anything that’s good in your life, you’ve got to share it. It’s got to grow…or it will one day go away.
That’s God’s plan for the world that he’s made. And it’s a good one. May we grow together, one step at a time, one day at a time, in the way and love of Jesus Christ.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Thanks to everyone from the Congregational Nurture team for a wonderful Valentine’s Day dinner last night at the church, and to our youth for the wonderful service they provided. It was a great time for everybody.
Don’t forget “Seismic Shifts,” where we’ll be studying chapters 4, 5 and 6 this Thursday night at 7pm at the church.
Also, Sunday evening at 4:00, “The Barbarian Way,” a truly wonderful book, hosted by Tim and Ellie Potate at their home.
Worship this Sunday at 8:30 and 10:00; “Turn it Over: Talents.” Our fifth installment in the series will look at all the ways we can share the gifts and abilities that God has given us.
Feb 8, 2006
Leviathan
“Stop.” The direct and serious tone of my traveling companion’s request halted my steps mid-motion. She stood staring intently at the ground before us, with laser beam focus on something that I obviously could not see. She knelt, pulling back the scattered, decomposing leaves that cover the floor of the woods surrounding our church. Scooping back last year’s pine straw, a smile began to gather as the quarry she’d spotted came slowly into view.
I watched as the shiny, silver metal of her shovel head moved beneath a tiny, fragile stalk. Six little seed heads encircled that stalk, conveying in their own way a beauty as great as that of the flowers they pointed backward toward through time.
“Adder’s Tongue Orchid!” she exclaimed with an eager, but professional excitement. To me this seemed quite the name for the dried-up shell of a plant that cowered below us. It wouldn’t even have made a satisfying crunch beneath my boot. Our other companions followed quickly, eager to see this newly-found woodland resident.
“This we should rescue,” she said, and in a moment she’d expertly removed the composted earth that surrounded the plant's hidden roots. Depositing the heavy clay hunk in a plastic grocery sack, she handed me the gift of earth and said, “plant it somewhere shady, it should bloom this summer.”
My new friends and I spent the balance of the morning combing the backside of SOTH’s property, climbing into the creek, scaling steep ridges and getting caught up in sharp greenbrier. They taught me how beautiful a sourwood can be when it’s transplanted in the right way, at the right time, in the right place. We talked about the delights of muscadine propagation and wonder of wild azaleas. I even saw some lichen harvested from an old rotten log to be used in the garden. Its deep blue-green mass, accented by delicate, flame-red highlights have earned it the name “British Soldiers.”
These representatives of the Georgia Native Plant Society had come to SOTH to spend a morning looking at the property that will be cleared this year, making way for the movement of Dorsett Shoals road that will result in a straightened, hopefully safer, intersection.
Their group is dedicated to the appreciation of our area’s native plant life, and they are particularly interested in “rescuing” plants that will soon fight a losing battle with a bulldozer blade. They will return, and when they do, we’ll be invited. As Spring arrives, the woods will come back to life and these good folks can help us move some of that life to our own backyards.
Their gift for spotting life in the midst of winter’s brown death and decay struck me as nothing short of amazing. Where I saw only naked trees (which all look the same without leaves, by the way) they saw a whole wilderness of wonderful life. Did you know that we worship every Sunday in the midst of ebony spleenwort, Christmas fern, cinnamon fern, grape fern, resurrection fern, running ground cedar, low bush blueberries, southern magnolia, wild ginger and blue eye grass? And that’s just the beginning.
I will never forget hearing one of my favorite seminary teachers, Roberta Bondi, talk about her experience of catching a rainbow trout for the very first time. She says that she was overwhelmed at the colors and engineering of the marvel that she pulled from the stream. But ultimately, it was not the fish’s beauty that gave her pause, so much as the realization of how that beauty had been hidden from human view. “God has made a rainbow trout to be incredibly beautiful,” she said, “and he didn’t do that for us. It lives its whole life away from human eyes, giving glory to God by doing what it was made to do in its own, beautiful way.”
Sometimes, we really need those moments of perspective. Every time I get to sit in the woods and find a few moments to be a part of the creation that God has made, I always find myself thinking, “wow, life is just happening out here, just like this, all the time.”
Creeks still flow, birds still fly, bugs still crawl, fish still swim, plants still grow, even when we’re not there to be their audience. God is still God, whether we’re checked in or checked out of his presence.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could check in more often? I don’t just mean by sitting with the trees, although that’s not a bad idea. What I mean is, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could walk through an entire day of life with the focus that comes from truly knowing why we’re here.
We’ve got way more in common with that rainbow trout than we might like to think. We’re here because God delights in us. We’re here to give God glory.
…And that’s it. Really.
Do you think we human beings have it all figured out? I read a wonderful story today from the New York times about a scientific expedition that just unearthed all manner of previously undiscovered species in New Guinea. Those animals gave glory to God even before we decided what their latin names should be. Which is more marvelous – that we found them, or that we share the same Creator, the same Author of It All who delights in both people…and frogs.
Q: “Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?” (Job 38:25-27)
A: God.
And if God loves the frogs, and the ferns…if God makes rain in the desert for no more reason than his deep-seated love of green grass… “will he not much more clothe you, -- you of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30).
God... We are so thankful for the tiny, dry orchids of winter, and for the promise of Spring, and the flowers that are most surely still to come.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Many of you will be curious about the proposed intersection development referenced in this week's blog, and please feel free to contact us in the office if you'd like to talk about it. Also, feel free to contact the folks at the Douglas County D.O.T. who can probably give you more information. For now, we are waiting for contact from the county to begin the process of discussion as they move toward beginning work on the project. Hopefully you got to follow the link to the drawing as it's posted on the county website. As more information becomes available, it will be passed right on to the congregation.
Also, the folks from the Georgia Native Plant Society will be out this spring to do "plant rescue" operations, and we're looking forward to setting those dates very soon. Look for announcements of dates in the next few weeks -- we'll make sure to keep everyone informed.
Don't forget this week's book study on Thursday night, Seismic Shifts. It looks like we'll have lots of folks out for the first time this week, so we'll work on chapters 1-3 rather than 4-6, adding a week to the length of our study, but giving everybody a chance to catch up.
Remember the puppet ministry that was highlighted two weeks ago in worship? If you have an interest in learning to be a puppeteer for our Sunday School program, contact Beverly Stone at pleasd2bme@yahoo.com . Youth age 6th grade or higher to adults are invited to volunteer.
I watched as the shiny, silver metal of her shovel head moved beneath a tiny, fragile stalk. Six little seed heads encircled that stalk, conveying in their own way a beauty as great as that of the flowers they pointed backward toward through time.
“Adder’s Tongue Orchid!” she exclaimed with an eager, but professional excitement. To me this seemed quite the name for the dried-up shell of a plant that cowered below us. It wouldn’t even have made a satisfying crunch beneath my boot. Our other companions followed quickly, eager to see this newly-found woodland resident.
“This we should rescue,” she said, and in a moment she’d expertly removed the composted earth that surrounded the plant's hidden roots. Depositing the heavy clay hunk in a plastic grocery sack, she handed me the gift of earth and said, “plant it somewhere shady, it should bloom this summer.”
My new friends and I spent the balance of the morning combing the backside of SOTH’s property, climbing into the creek, scaling steep ridges and getting caught up in sharp greenbrier. They taught me how beautiful a sourwood can be when it’s transplanted in the right way, at the right time, in the right place. We talked about the delights of muscadine propagation and wonder of wild azaleas. I even saw some lichen harvested from an old rotten log to be used in the garden. Its deep blue-green mass, accented by delicate, flame-red highlights have earned it the name “British Soldiers.”
These representatives of the Georgia Native Plant Society had come to SOTH to spend a morning looking at the property that will be cleared this year, making way for the movement of Dorsett Shoals road that will result in a straightened, hopefully safer, intersection.
Their group is dedicated to the appreciation of our area’s native plant life, and they are particularly interested in “rescuing” plants that will soon fight a losing battle with a bulldozer blade. They will return, and when they do, we’ll be invited. As Spring arrives, the woods will come back to life and these good folks can help us move some of that life to our own backyards.
Their gift for spotting life in the midst of winter’s brown death and decay struck me as nothing short of amazing. Where I saw only naked trees (which all look the same without leaves, by the way) they saw a whole wilderness of wonderful life. Did you know that we worship every Sunday in the midst of ebony spleenwort, Christmas fern, cinnamon fern, grape fern, resurrection fern, running ground cedar, low bush blueberries, southern magnolia, wild ginger and blue eye grass? And that’s just the beginning.
I will never forget hearing one of my favorite seminary teachers, Roberta Bondi, talk about her experience of catching a rainbow trout for the very first time. She says that she was overwhelmed at the colors and engineering of the marvel that she pulled from the stream. But ultimately, it was not the fish’s beauty that gave her pause, so much as the realization of how that beauty had been hidden from human view. “God has made a rainbow trout to be incredibly beautiful,” she said, “and he didn’t do that for us. It lives its whole life away from human eyes, giving glory to God by doing what it was made to do in its own, beautiful way.”
Sometimes, we really need those moments of perspective. Every time I get to sit in the woods and find a few moments to be a part of the creation that God has made, I always find myself thinking, “wow, life is just happening out here, just like this, all the time.”
Creeks still flow, birds still fly, bugs still crawl, fish still swim, plants still grow, even when we’re not there to be their audience. God is still God, whether we’re checked in or checked out of his presence.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could check in more often? I don’t just mean by sitting with the trees, although that’s not a bad idea. What I mean is, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could walk through an entire day of life with the focus that comes from truly knowing why we’re here.
We’ve got way more in common with that rainbow trout than we might like to think. We’re here because God delights in us. We’re here to give God glory.
…And that’s it. Really.
Do you think we human beings have it all figured out? I read a wonderful story today from the New York times about a scientific expedition that just unearthed all manner of previously undiscovered species in New Guinea. Those animals gave glory to God even before we decided what their latin names should be. Which is more marvelous – that we found them, or that we share the same Creator, the same Author of It All who delights in both people…and frogs.
Q: “Who has cut a channel for the torrents of rain, and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert, which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground put forth grass?” (Job 38:25-27)
A: God.
And if God loves the frogs, and the ferns…if God makes rain in the desert for no more reason than his deep-seated love of green grass… “will he not much more clothe you, -- you of little faith?” (Matthew 6:30).
God... We are so thankful for the tiny, dry orchids of winter, and for the promise of Spring, and the flowers that are most surely still to come.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Many of you will be curious about the proposed intersection development referenced in this week's blog, and please feel free to contact us in the office if you'd like to talk about it. Also, feel free to contact the folks at the Douglas County D.O.T. who can probably give you more information. For now, we are waiting for contact from the county to begin the process of discussion as they move toward beginning work on the project. Hopefully you got to follow the link to the drawing as it's posted on the county website. As more information becomes available, it will be passed right on to the congregation.
Also, the folks from the Georgia Native Plant Society will be out this spring to do "plant rescue" operations, and we're looking forward to setting those dates very soon. Look for announcements of dates in the next few weeks -- we'll make sure to keep everyone informed.
Don't forget this week's book study on Thursday night, Seismic Shifts. It looks like we'll have lots of folks out for the first time this week, so we'll work on chapters 1-3 rather than 4-6, adding a week to the length of our study, but giving everybody a chance to catch up.
Remember the puppet ministry that was highlighted two weeks ago in worship? If you have an interest in learning to be a puppeteer for our Sunday School program, contact Beverly Stone at pleasd2bme@yahoo.com . Youth age 6th grade or higher to adults are invited to volunteer.
Feb 1, 2006
Phil
Nope, not Dr. Phil: "Punxsatawney Phil."
You know, the groundhog. Groundhog…Day.
Groundhog Day is tomorrow, and of course it’s one of the truly great holidays on our calendar.
Will he or won’t he, that is the question. Tradition has it that lots of forces in our natural world depends on whether that groundhog sees his shadow. Either we’re on the way to an early spring or doomed to six more weeks of repetitious, winter skies.
This morning has been a beautiful one. Here in Douglasville, there hasn't been a cloud in the sky and it’ll be warming up into the 60’s by this afternoon. But don’t count your buttercups just yet. Winter will be back --- and we’ll have to make another push or two before it’s time for swimming pools and baseball games.
But even knowing full-well that wintertime can’t really be over in early February no matter what ol’ Phil does, the press will gather and the world will watch that fat, furry rodent come out of its hole and scamper about with hot breath fogging up the frozen
“Phil Connors” was tired of being part of that crowd. That’s the name of the weatherman Bill Murray played in the 1993 movie named after the famous holiday. "Groundhog Day" is a great movie because it mimics so much of our everyday life experience.
You see, after Connors does his Groundhog Day weather gig, covering the groundhog for the fourth year in a row, he wakes up on February 3rd only to realize that it’s really February 2nd all over again. Morning after morning, day after day, week after week, he wakes up to repeat the same day.
The concept is a fascinating one, and Connors tries all the ways you might ever imagine, and many that you wouldn’t, to break the cycle of repetition and escape back into the routine of his “normal” life.
In the end, we learn a really great
Sometimes our lives have Groundhog-ish moments. This morning I woke up at the same time that I do every other day. I ground the beans for my 12,578th pot of coffee. I left home at the same time for my son’s same school. As he opened the door of the car to head into his class I said, “time to do it again, right?” “Yep,” he replied. We exchanged “love you dudes” and he was gone.
So what makes this day different than any other one?
Everything.
Today won’t be like any other day that I’ve ever had. There will be countless decisions, conversations, subtleties and nuances that will shape reactions, possibilities, and in turn, tomorrow’s opportunities.
The power of the compounded interest of all the gathered days of our lives is pretty awesome.
Kind of makes you want to start the whole thing with a prayer, doesn’t it? That’s a great idea --- and you can punctuate this day’s events in that same way, all the way through.
Now that the holidays are over, I can really say that I love being back in the routine of getting up, showing up, and going back home. But I can also say that the routine might make us miss the wonder, and the power of the seemingly mundane.
So, look for that big ol’ bucktoothed furball on tv tomorrow morning. Enjoy the spectacle and the silliness of his top-hat, black-tie-and-tails wearing entourage. Then have another cup of coffee, say a little prayer of thanksgiving, ask for wisdom and strength, and head out the door into the wonderful monotony of life, complete with all its twists and turns.
God is already there.
Grace + Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
We’re working hard to maximize the space that we have in our worship facility at each service, and you can trust that we’ll do everything we can to work out the best possible solutions to these wonderful problems. Our “Turn It Over” direct mail piece should begin hitting neighborhoods today and tomorrow, just slightly behind schedule, but in plenty of time to help folks catch a vision of what God might do in their lives during this new year.
SEISMIC SHIFTS BOOK STUDY:
Don’t forget that tomorrow night begins our new book study, Seismic Shifts. We’ll gather at 7pm in our worship space to take a look at little changes that can add up to a dramatically different life in Christ. The study is for six weeks, and if you miss the first one, come on in for the next! 7 pm, Thursday nights --- if you need to order a book, e-mail us: sandi@sothumc.net , and we’ll make sure that you have a copy. If you’ve already paid the $10 for your book, they’re available on the table in our worship entry space. Already, almost 30 adults are signed up!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)