Having grown up in the cotton fields of West Tennessee, in between the shadows of Memphis and Nashville, it probably doesn’t surprise you to know that I’m a pretty big fan of country music.
It’s real, honest, to-the-point and full of “poor man’s poetry.”
Only the hardest of heart could fail to shed a tear while listening to George Jones whine his way through “He Stopped Loving Her Today.” Only the cold and uncaring could fail to feel the pain and desperation of Merle Haggard’s “Tonight, the Bottle Let Me Down.”
Right?
OK, maybe that’s a stretch. I realize that not everyone shares my occasional need for the “down home,” and that even when they do, not everybody’s down home includes George Jones.
Fair enough.
But I bet that since September 11th, 2001, almost everybody, country music lover or not, has been exposed to Toby Keith’s, “Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue.” The song is also known as, and I am not making this up, “The Angry American.”
In case you’ve missed it, let me quote some particulars from the lyrics:
Justice will be served
And the battle will rage
This big dog will fight
When you rattle his cage
And you’ll be sorry that you messed with
The U.S. of A.
`Cause we`ll put a boot in your ---
It`s the American way.
Speaking for all the American good ol’ boys out there, Mr. Keith got in touch with his righteous indignation. And why not?
Revenge sells.
And it feels great, after all.
What self-respecting person doesn’t want to put a boot in somebody’s anatomy when you’ve just been sucker-punched in the gut?
Trust me, I've wanted to put a 9/11 sized "boot" somewhere for the last five years.
I remember what I felt on that Tuesday five years ago as though the events happened just this morning. I was at my office in the church where I served as Associate Pastor at that time.
My plan was to spend a few minutes attending our weekly staff meeting before getting on I-20 from Augusta to a later appointment at Emory in Atlanta.
Just before I went out the door of my office, my cell phone rang and I picked it up.
“Hey babe,” she said, “something’s happened at the World Trade Center in New York, and it’s really weird. They’re saying a plane hit it. They think it must have been a small plane, some kind of mistake, but it’s really on the news, just wanted you to know.”
That meeting never happened, as many other staff members had received similar updates from their spouses. Pretty soon, everybody just wanted to find a radio or tv.
I figured I had better hurry up and get on the road.
A few miles out of town, I stopped to pump some gas, and my phone rang again. “They hit the other tower” she said. “They think it’s terrorism.”
Soon, another call, as the first tower came down. “It fell down,” she said. “That can’t be,” I argued. “It’s impossible. The World Trade Center cannot fall down. It just can’t. Do you know how many people work there?”
Denial can be a powerful thing, and in that moment, I knew what I was hearing just couldn’t physically be true.
Amazingly, maybe because I didn't know what else to do, and because I was still living in a “pre-9/11 world,” I kept on heading down that highway toward Atlanta.
When the second tower fell, and as reports of the attack on the Pentagon came over the radio, I can tell you that I felt a rage unlike any that I have known before.
The pain was personal. The anger was, too. Slowly, mile by mile, a new reality dawned in my heart and mind. “There are people in the world who want to kill me. They want to kill my family…just because we’re Americans.”
There’s no coming back from that sort of shift in reality. The old place just isn’t there anymore, for any of us.
I remember stopping at an exit in the open Georgia countryside, just east of Metro Atlanta. I needed to listen, and really give focused attention to the radio reports, and to try and clear my head for the rest of the drive. As I walked into the gas station just off the interstate, I paused to watch the nervous cashier.
He was of obvious Middle-Eastern descent, and he was working quietly and efficiently, head down…saying nothing. I can’t imagine what he felt at that moment. There were about 20 angry “Toby Keiths” in that store, including me. On 9/11/2001, his feelings were about the least of my concern.
I managed to make my meeting at Emory, although the whole campus seemed like a war zone because it is home to the Centers for Disease Control. On the way home, my much beloved mazda pick up truck gave up the ghost and stranded me on the side of the road, a lethal crack having formed in an old cylinder.
Finally, I managed to make my return to the church, dropped off by a tow truck, and late for the impromptu 9/11 service in which I was supposed to participate.
I found my wife, and stood with her at the back of the room. Thousands were dead. No one knew how many for sure.
Husbands…wives…fathers…mothers…grandparents…sons…daughters. All innocent. All lost. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I knew what it meant to have a true “enemy.”
That’s when it happened. Together, the congregation began to recite the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples.
The words caught in my throat.
“Forgive us our trespasses…as we forgive those who…”
I was not ready to forgive those who had “trespassed against us” on that day.
And yet, the prayer had not changed. Jesus’ appeal to his Father was the same on 9/11 as it had been on 9/10. It was the prayer I was challenged to join.
I don’t think I even really wanted to mean them, but I joined the congregation and prayed those words out loud. These five years later, that act of worship remains fresh in my mind.
9/12/2001 brought a new challenge for me, and for all of us. As a pastor, my job became one of helping Christian people understand their faith and their world in light of the previous day’s events.
That task hasn’t stopped yet, and it likely never will.
As I watched the commemorative events and the thousand documentaries that aired this weekend and this past Monday, I heard a new term for the first time.
One cable news anchor spoke of the “9/11 Generation,” applying the term to all who were between Jr. High and college age on the day of the attacks. Basically, these are the children of the 80’s. All of the characteristics that define this generation have yet to be seen.
I like to think Christianity might have a voice in that conversation.
I don’t simply mean cultural Christianity, in the sense of the West vs. East clash-of-cultures showdown with Islam that the folks on TV like to frame.
I mean the Christianity of the heart that moves believers, one-by-one, to carry the cross of Christ --- listening to his voice, praying his prayers and walking in his steps.
We are called to live and work for justice, and surely all those who perpetuated the atrocities of 9/11 must be held to account.
But vengeance, anger and resentment will eat us alive if it’s allowed to take root in our hearts. That kind of hatred will work like a parasite, draining us of all that makes us holy and leaving us unable to respond to the challenges of faith in a new world.
Jesus’s people pray. For their enemies.
Somehow, they believe that there can be peace, and they trust God to lead them toward it. They forgive those who need forgiveness for vile and personal transgressions, just as surely as we need forgiveness from the Father who loves us.
Nobody said that’s an easy thing…but Jesus has said it’s the right thing.
Toby Keith’s “boot in your backside” song wasn’t the only pop country response to 9/11.
An alternative, very different country song emerged as well.
Newnan, Georgia’s own Alan Jackson wrote a song that’s a little different, called “That September Day.” It says:
Where were you when the world stopped turning
that September day
Teaching a class full of innocent children
Driving down some cold interstate
Did you feel guilty cause you're a survivor
In a crowded room did you feel alone
Did you call up your mother and tell her you love her
Did you dust off that Bible at home
Did you open your eyes and hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep
Did you notice the sunset for the first time in ages
Speak to some stranger on the street
Did you lay down at night and think of tomorrow
Go out an buy you a gun
Did you turn off that violent old movie you're watchin'
And turn on 'I Love Lucy' re-runs
Did you go to church and hold hands with some stangers
Stand in line and give your own blood
Did you just stay home and cling tight to your family
Thank God you had somebody to love
Chorus:
I’m just a singer of simple songs
I’m not a real political man
I watch CNN but I’m not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love
And the greatest is love
I know the world was complicated and full of brokenness long, long before September 11th, 2001. We’re simply much more aware of that brokenness and complication now that it has come into our own homes. Followers of Christ must continue to find their way forward into the future.
No doubt, I’m still angry. I think we all are.
The hurting, human side of all of us still wants revenge against those who caused the pain.
That vengeance isn’t ours. It’s God’s.
My prayer and hope is that the people of Christ will work for justice, not vengeance.
That we will be used by God for peace, and we will help define the world that is to come. There is still much difficult work that must be done, and my prayer is that we don't lose our souls while we do it, and we should pray especially for those who are serving our country in Iraq, Afghanistan and other dangerous places.
I pray that Christian people can feel the courage of our convictions, and that we can find our voice. I also pray that we don't lose the God-given gift of listening, and that we'll always do the hard work of critical self-reflection.
Maybe it’s a little naïve and simplistic, but I’ve got it on pretty good authority:
Faith, hope and love are some good things he gave us…but the greatest is love.
It never fails. Even on the darkest of days.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
IN HONOR OF THOSE LOST ON 9/11/2001
"For the Falling Man"
by Annie Farnsworth, in Bodies of Water
I see you again and again
tumbling out of the sky,
in your slate-grey suit and pressed white shirt.
At first I thought you were debris
from the explosion, maybe gray plaster wall
or fuselage but then I realized that people were leaping.
I know who you are, I know
there's more to you than just this image
on the news, this ragdoll plummeting—
I know you were someone's lover, husband,
daddy. Last night you read stories
to your children, tucked them in, then curled into sleep
next to your wife. Perhaps there was small
sleepy talk of the future. Then,
before your morning coffee had cooled
you'd come to this; a choice between fire
or falling.
How feeble these words, billowing
in this aftermath, how ineffectual
this utterance of sorrow. We can see plainly
it's hopeless, even as the words trail from our mouths
—but we can't help ourselves—how I wish
we could trade them for something
that could really have caught you.
Sep 13, 2006
Sep 6, 2006
Clock
A little bit of my second childhood died this week.
Steve Irwin, “The Crocodile Hunter” was killed by a stingray while shooting a documentary off the coast of Australia.
When we awoke to the news Monday morning, I found myself stunned, and saddened. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to imply that I’ve ever been an official member of the Crocodile Hunter Fan Club of America, or that my remote control cruises over to Animal Planet of its own accord too often.
But I have watched my share of Steve Irwin in the last six years. Remember, I have a six-year-old son, after all.
Somehow, in the pre-fatherhood coolness of young(ish) adulthood, I had forgotten what fun watching a guy like Steve Irwin could be. Sure, I had laughed “at” Irwin before, often finding his over-the-top sense of wonder at spiders and lizards to be nothing short of comical.
But when I sat with my young son and watched him do his thing with the wildlife of jungle, desert and outback, I realized his true identity. Steve Irwin was a wild-man, Tarzan, animal-wrangling hero.
And a fool, right?
After all, his propensity for up-close-and-personal encounters with wildlife got him killed. Surely, only a fool would risk his life, leaving behind his family, friends and those who loved him.
His death was tragic and entirely lamentable. But, even in light of that reality, here’s what I wonder. Could he really have done anything else, and still have been the Steve Irwin he was meant to be?
In the aftermath of tragedies like this one, it’s all too easy to turn human beings into caricatures. No person is all hero, or all fool. The truth, of course, lies somewhere in between, and maybe it gives us the chance to learn about ourselves.
Australians have a word for Steve Irwin, and I like it. Larrikin. “Larrikins” are loud, rowdy, and comical. They don’t take the world very seriously, and they don’t care too much about what other people think. Most importantly, real larrikins don’t take themselves too seriously, and they have a true gift for self-deprication.
A couple of years ago, President Bush went to Australia and a reception was held in his honor. Australia’s Prime Minister, John Howard, invited a short list of Australian celebrities and dignitaries to attend this momentous occasion, and Steve Irwin was there in the crowd. What was he wearing when he met President Bush?
Khaki shorts, a wrinkled khaki shirt, and his scuffed, tan hiking boots.
A larrikin at his best.
That attitude allowed Irwin to live more in his 44 years than most people do in 84.
That he died during a wildlife shoot that shouldn’t have carried much risk, especially when compared to other things he had done throughout his career, is a particular tragedy.
None of us know with certainty what any experience, or any given day, will hold.
As I have now given up on baseball for 2006 (trust me on this, Braves’ fans) and moved headlong into football, I am reminded of the distinct differences between the two – which is pretty much everything.
But perhaps the biggest strategic and philosophical difference between baseball, and football, basketball or many other sports, is that major league baseball lacks a clock.
This weekend, in Knoxville, Holly and I got to see every UT fan’s favorite play. The boys in orange walked onto the field at the end of the fourth quarter, snapped the ball, and took a collective knee. They had the lead, time ran out, and the game was over.
How many times this summer did I wish that a Braves’ relief pitcher could simply kneel on the pitcher’s mound with a lead and see the game come to a glorious end?
Baseball doesn’t work that way. You have to play the “outs,” and each side gets 27. That’s wonderfully fair and democratic. It’s what you do with those outs that makes the difference.
Life doesn’t quite match the metaphor of baseball “outs” or a football clock.
Our best sports analogy might be soccer’s “stoppage” time. During the game, the referee keeps track of the time lost to injuries, ball retrieval, etc., and once regulation time has ended, he adds those seconds to the game.
Stoppage time is exciting because only the referee knows how much of it there is.
Everyone plays with urgency, because the game is ending sometime --- soon. In life, like stoppage-time soccer, there is a clock, and it is ticking. We just don’t know how many seconds still remain.
My concern in writing this blog is that you’ll chalk all of this up to another “seize the day,” e-mail forward kind of inspirational idea. My fear is that you’ll think I’m saying you should do more and work harder, that God wants you to add extra pages to your already overbooked calendar, and that you should live “on the edge” by playing with tarantulas and drag racing on the weekends.
That’s not exactly what I’m getting at.
I’m saying that life does carry risk, and that the solution is not to “play out the clock.” I’ve seen many football and basketball teams that get a lead, only to stop trying to score points. They run the ball, a yard at a time, or pass and pass and never shoot, only to let the other team back into the game.
What we need is not “more.” What we need is focus. What we need is purpose. What we need is a “calling.”
Steve Irwin had one, and he knew it.
He once appeared on Larry King Live and talked about realizing his “gift” as a child. “What gift?” King asked, seemingly confused.
“I'm a wild life warrior,” Irwin said. “A warrior is someone who is trained or engaged in battle. My battle is conservation. So I'm a wildlife warrior. Anyone can be one. But I have a gift. God put me on this planet with a mission. My mission is to educate people about conservation.”
He explained further, “It's in my genetic makeup. That's where it comes from. I can do stuff with animals that no one else in the world can do. I've got this, I've got the ability to be attractive to wildlife and vice-versa. Then, on top of that, I've got a gift that I didn't know I had, of communicating to cameras, which is in essence looking to millions of people. Combine those two and there you see my mission is to educate people about conservation.”
If you’ve seen the video clip of Irwin speaking those words, you know the passion of his belief in the gift. It was his calling, and he pursued it to the fullest, until the clock finally ran out.
There is power in knowing that you’re hear for a reason. In making the divine wager of faith that says the world is more than a random collection of particles and elements.
Rick Warren once wrote:
“I got lost in the mountains. When I stopped to ask for directions to the campsite, I was told, ‘You can’t get there from here. You must start from the other side of the mountain!’ In the same way, you cannot arrive at your life’s purpose by starting with a focus on yourself. You must begin with God, your Creator. You exist only because God wills that you exist. You were made by God and for God – and until you understand that, life will never make sense. It is only in God that we discover our origin, our identity, our meaning, our purpose, our significance, and our destiny. Every other path leads to a dead end.
Many people try to use God for their own self-actualization, but that is a reversal of nature and is doomed to failure. You were made for God, not vice-versa, and life is about letting God use you for his purposes, not your using him for your own purpose. The Bible says, ‘Obsession with self in these matters is a dead end; attention to God leads us out into the open, into a spacious, free life.’”
I don’t know what Steve Irwin thought about God or theology. But I do believe that he felt a clear sense of calling in his heart, and for his life. His purpose was something bigger than himself, and he didn’t take himself, or other people, too seriously.
The crazy-eyed, child-like wonder that he displayed for lizards and spiders, crocs and creatures of all kinds was infectious. The power of seeing someone do what they’re meant to do always is.
God holds that power for you, too. Don’t just “seize the day,” seize a call. Be a larrikin for God.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Thanks to everyone for a wonderful time in worship this past Sunday. I’m so proud of Time Potate for “flying solo” on his first Sunday morning preaching experience, and for the great love and support that he’s been shown by the people of SOTH.
This Sunday will begin Adam’s three-week sermon series, “Cracking Up.” Have you ever wondered how to balance all the pressures of life? Sometimes, we can feel as though we’re about to crack. The Bible has much to say about finding peace, balance and calm in the midst of the storm. Topics will include “Time,” “Money,” and “Relationships,” over the next three weeks at 8:30 and 10:00 worship.
SOTH’s new Sunday night worship begins this week, September 10th at 6pm. Bring the whole family for our Sunday night experience. Youth also begins at 6:00, at The Ranch, and we’ll have childcare available for the kids. Don’t miss this chance to be a part of something new to our life at SOTH.
This Sunday morning, copies of the John Ortberg book, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat will be on sale, for $12 each. SOTH will study this book in small groups, beginning the week of September 25th, and throughout October. Many more details this Sunday on time and location for each group.
Steve Irwin, “The Crocodile Hunter” was killed by a stingray while shooting a documentary off the coast of Australia.
When we awoke to the news Monday morning, I found myself stunned, and saddened. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to imply that I’ve ever been an official member of the Crocodile Hunter Fan Club of America, or that my remote control cruises over to Animal Planet of its own accord too often.
But I have watched my share of Steve Irwin in the last six years. Remember, I have a six-year-old son, after all.
Somehow, in the pre-fatherhood coolness of young(ish) adulthood, I had forgotten what fun watching a guy like Steve Irwin could be. Sure, I had laughed “at” Irwin before, often finding his over-the-top sense of wonder at spiders and lizards to be nothing short of comical.
But when I sat with my young son and watched him do his thing with the wildlife of jungle, desert and outback, I realized his true identity. Steve Irwin was a wild-man, Tarzan, animal-wrangling hero.
And a fool, right?
After all, his propensity for up-close-and-personal encounters with wildlife got him killed. Surely, only a fool would risk his life, leaving behind his family, friends and those who loved him.
His death was tragic and entirely lamentable. But, even in light of that reality, here’s what I wonder. Could he really have done anything else, and still have been the Steve Irwin he was meant to be?
In the aftermath of tragedies like this one, it’s all too easy to turn human beings into caricatures. No person is all hero, or all fool. The truth, of course, lies somewhere in between, and maybe it gives us the chance to learn about ourselves.
Australians have a word for Steve Irwin, and I like it. Larrikin. “Larrikins” are loud, rowdy, and comical. They don’t take the world very seriously, and they don’t care too much about what other people think. Most importantly, real larrikins don’t take themselves too seriously, and they have a true gift for self-deprication.
A couple of years ago, President Bush went to Australia and a reception was held in his honor. Australia’s Prime Minister, John Howard, invited a short list of Australian celebrities and dignitaries to attend this momentous occasion, and Steve Irwin was there in the crowd. What was he wearing when he met President Bush?
Khaki shorts, a wrinkled khaki shirt, and his scuffed, tan hiking boots.
A larrikin at his best.
That attitude allowed Irwin to live more in his 44 years than most people do in 84.
That he died during a wildlife shoot that shouldn’t have carried much risk, especially when compared to other things he had done throughout his career, is a particular tragedy.
None of us know with certainty what any experience, or any given day, will hold.
As I have now given up on baseball for 2006 (trust me on this, Braves’ fans) and moved headlong into football, I am reminded of the distinct differences between the two – which is pretty much everything.
But perhaps the biggest strategic and philosophical difference between baseball, and football, basketball or many other sports, is that major league baseball lacks a clock.
This weekend, in Knoxville, Holly and I got to see every UT fan’s favorite play. The boys in orange walked onto the field at the end of the fourth quarter, snapped the ball, and took a collective knee. They had the lead, time ran out, and the game was over.
How many times this summer did I wish that a Braves’ relief pitcher could simply kneel on the pitcher’s mound with a lead and see the game come to a glorious end?
Baseball doesn’t work that way. You have to play the “outs,” and each side gets 27. That’s wonderfully fair and democratic. It’s what you do with those outs that makes the difference.
Life doesn’t quite match the metaphor of baseball “outs” or a football clock.
Our best sports analogy might be soccer’s “stoppage” time. During the game, the referee keeps track of the time lost to injuries, ball retrieval, etc., and once regulation time has ended, he adds those seconds to the game.
Stoppage time is exciting because only the referee knows how much of it there is.
Everyone plays with urgency, because the game is ending sometime --- soon. In life, like stoppage-time soccer, there is a clock, and it is ticking. We just don’t know how many seconds still remain.
My concern in writing this blog is that you’ll chalk all of this up to another “seize the day,” e-mail forward kind of inspirational idea. My fear is that you’ll think I’m saying you should do more and work harder, that God wants you to add extra pages to your already overbooked calendar, and that you should live “on the edge” by playing with tarantulas and drag racing on the weekends.
That’s not exactly what I’m getting at.
I’m saying that life does carry risk, and that the solution is not to “play out the clock.” I’ve seen many football and basketball teams that get a lead, only to stop trying to score points. They run the ball, a yard at a time, or pass and pass and never shoot, only to let the other team back into the game.
What we need is not “more.” What we need is focus. What we need is purpose. What we need is a “calling.”
Steve Irwin had one, and he knew it.
He once appeared on Larry King Live and talked about realizing his “gift” as a child. “What gift?” King asked, seemingly confused.
“I'm a wild life warrior,” Irwin said. “A warrior is someone who is trained or engaged in battle. My battle is conservation. So I'm a wildlife warrior. Anyone can be one. But I have a gift. God put me on this planet with a mission. My mission is to educate people about conservation.”
He explained further, “It's in my genetic makeup. That's where it comes from. I can do stuff with animals that no one else in the world can do. I've got this, I've got the ability to be attractive to wildlife and vice-versa. Then, on top of that, I've got a gift that I didn't know I had, of communicating to cameras, which is in essence looking to millions of people. Combine those two and there you see my mission is to educate people about conservation.”
If you’ve seen the video clip of Irwin speaking those words, you know the passion of his belief in the gift. It was his calling, and he pursued it to the fullest, until the clock finally ran out.
There is power in knowing that you’re hear for a reason. In making the divine wager of faith that says the world is more than a random collection of particles and elements.
Rick Warren once wrote:
“I got lost in the mountains. When I stopped to ask for directions to the campsite, I was told, ‘You can’t get there from here. You must start from the other side of the mountain!’ In the same way, you cannot arrive at your life’s purpose by starting with a focus on yourself. You must begin with God, your Creator. You exist only because God wills that you exist. You were made by God and for God – and until you understand that, life will never make sense. It is only in God that we discover our origin, our identity, our meaning, our purpose, our significance, and our destiny. Every other path leads to a dead end.
Many people try to use God for their own self-actualization, but that is a reversal of nature and is doomed to failure. You were made for God, not vice-versa, and life is about letting God use you for his purposes, not your using him for your own purpose. The Bible says, ‘Obsession with self in these matters is a dead end; attention to God leads us out into the open, into a spacious, free life.’”
I don’t know what Steve Irwin thought about God or theology. But I do believe that he felt a clear sense of calling in his heart, and for his life. His purpose was something bigger than himself, and he didn’t take himself, or other people, too seriously.
The crazy-eyed, child-like wonder that he displayed for lizards and spiders, crocs and creatures of all kinds was infectious. The power of seeing someone do what they’re meant to do always is.
God holds that power for you, too. Don’t just “seize the day,” seize a call. Be a larrikin for God.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Thanks to everyone for a wonderful time in worship this past Sunday. I’m so proud of Time Potate for “flying solo” on his first Sunday morning preaching experience, and for the great love and support that he’s been shown by the people of SOTH.
This Sunday will begin Adam’s three-week sermon series, “Cracking Up.” Have you ever wondered how to balance all the pressures of life? Sometimes, we can feel as though we’re about to crack. The Bible has much to say about finding peace, balance and calm in the midst of the storm. Topics will include “Time,” “Money,” and “Relationships,” over the next three weeks at 8:30 and 10:00 worship.
SOTH’s new Sunday night worship begins this week, September 10th at 6pm. Bring the whole family for our Sunday night experience. Youth also begins at 6:00, at The Ranch, and we’ll have childcare available for the kids. Don’t miss this chance to be a part of something new to our life at SOTH.
This Sunday morning, copies of the John Ortberg book, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat will be on sale, for $12 each. SOTH will study this book in small groups, beginning the week of September 25th, and throughout October. Many more details this Sunday on time and location for each group.
Aug 30, 2006
Remix
As we pass the one-year anniversary of the tragic events of Hurricane Katrina, it seemed appropriate this morning to mark this day and remember the year that has passed.
To that end, I wanted to again share a SOTHBLOG entry originally posted on September 7, 2005.
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, here in Douglasville. “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.
POSTSCRIPT: August 30, 2006
I really do believe that the events of 9/11, the years of war that have ensued, and our collective witness to the desperation and destruction of Hurricane Katrina have presented American Christians with a particular and perhaps unusual theological task. We are also presented with an equally unusual opportunity.
Perhaps not since the revelation of the Holocaust and the terrible suffering of World War II have Americans more openly voiced questions about the presence and meaning of God in the face of clear and undeniable evil.
Anytime people are talking about God, it’s a good thing. Even when the question being asked is, “where is God and how could he let something like this happen,” we should know that there is at least the chance to enter into a conversation, to live out a truth and to bear witness to Christ.
When someone comes and asks me “WHY,” I will very honestly, and sincerely tell them the truth…
“I don’t know.”
My advice is that you take that same opportunity when it presents itself.
Please resist the temptation to roll in the mud of easy platitudes that only make you feel better while doing nothing for the person who asked the question. Don’t be afraid of silence. Don’t run from “I don’t know.”
But, don’t let the conversation end there, either.
Being a Christian, for me, means admitting what I don’t know. But it also means bearing witness to what I believe I do know.
I know that our world is broken. It is full of hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis and tornadoes. In this world, there are people who will do the unthinkable. There is brokenness, there is evil. It’s real.
But that’s not the whole story, not for a second.
Let’s shift the conversation.
Intriguing though it is, the path of “why” is a dead-end theological street.
The question of “what now?” is not.
When the brokenness breaks in on us, we are not alone. Christianity’s unique message is one of God…himself broken. The cross is nothing less than God’s unflinching step into pain, hurt, and sin on our behalf.
Christianity is not escape into nirvana. It is not release from this world through the acquisition of secret, magical knowledge. It is not a stiff-upper-lip, locker room pep talk at halftime.
Christianity is redemption…and transformation. It is relationship.
God’s love doesn’t fail. It doesn’t change. It is real, active, and present in this broken world. The scripture so often misappropriated, is yet so powerful. “We know that all things work together for goodGod makes all things work together for good, or in all things God works for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Too often, I have heard well-meaning Christians imply that God causes hurricanes so that good things can happen. That is absolutely wrong.
Paul’s great words are an incredible statement of faith, when rightly understood. He means that God is present, even in the evil aftermath of a hurricane. God is at work, immediately, in ways that defy our comprehension. Through his people, God unfolds good, through all things, in ways that redeem and transform evil’s best attempts at desolation.
“Kevin” understood. Poor, broken, hurting…and blessed.
I don’t know where Kevin is, these twelve months later. In fact, I never saw him again after that day. By faith, I believe that God has worked good things in his life. God’s people offered a prayer, an opportunity, a job fair, a new start.
All things work together…
Grace and Peace,
Adam
A link to a story detailing the United Methodist response to Katrina, one year later. Note: United Methodists, including those who worship at Shepherd of the Hills, have given $66 Million to relief efforts through our United Methodist Committee on Relief. Thank You.
LIFE AT SOTH:
Labor Day Weekend Worship: One service only, this Sunday, at 10:00 a.m. We’ll be doing another wonderful community brunch, so feel free to bring along a homemade dish to share. Tim Potate will be doing the preaching this week! He is exploring a call to ministry and will preach at SOTH while Adam, Holly and family travel to Knoxville, TN.
Small Group Ministry – Fall Community Groups: Ready to get to know your fellow-SOTHer’s even better? Join a small group this fall! On September 10th and 17th, you’ll have the chance to sign-up for the small group of your choice. Hosts, times and teacher information will be available those Sundays, as will copies of our book for this fall, John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat.
Sunday Night Worship – SOTH will begin Sunday night worship on September 10 at 6:00 pm. We really believe that we can do an even better of serving our community and deepening our faith by providing this ministry opportunity. Plan to come on out and see what it’s all about!
New Members: Welcome to a great couple, Josh and Jennifer Taylor, who joined SOTH this past Sunday at our 10:00 worship service. Josh is an engineer for GDOT and Jennifer teaches first grade. We are happy to welcome them to the SOTH family!
To that end, I wanted to again share a SOTHBLOG entry originally posted on September 7, 2005.
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, here in Douglasville. “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.
POSTSCRIPT: August 30, 2006
I really do believe that the events of 9/11, the years of war that have ensued, and our collective witness to the desperation and destruction of Hurricane Katrina have presented American Christians with a particular and perhaps unusual theological task. We are also presented with an equally unusual opportunity.
Perhaps not since the revelation of the Holocaust and the terrible suffering of World War II have Americans more openly voiced questions about the presence and meaning of God in the face of clear and undeniable evil.
Anytime people are talking about God, it’s a good thing. Even when the question being asked is, “where is God and how could he let something like this happen,” we should know that there is at least the chance to enter into a conversation, to live out a truth and to bear witness to Christ.
When someone comes and asks me “WHY,” I will very honestly, and sincerely tell them the truth…
“I don’t know.”
My advice is that you take that same opportunity when it presents itself.
Please resist the temptation to roll in the mud of easy platitudes that only make you feel better while doing nothing for the person who asked the question. Don’t be afraid of silence. Don’t run from “I don’t know.”
But, don’t let the conversation end there, either.
Being a Christian, for me, means admitting what I don’t know. But it also means bearing witness to what I believe I do know.
I know that our world is broken. It is full of hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis and tornadoes. In this world, there are people who will do the unthinkable. There is brokenness, there is evil. It’s real.
But that’s not the whole story, not for a second.
Let’s shift the conversation.
Intriguing though it is, the path of “why” is a dead-end theological street.
The question of “what now?” is not.
When the brokenness breaks in on us, we are not alone. Christianity’s unique message is one of God…himself broken. The cross is nothing less than God’s unflinching step into pain, hurt, and sin on our behalf.
Christianity is not escape into nirvana. It is not release from this world through the acquisition of secret, magical knowledge. It is not a stiff-upper-lip, locker room pep talk at halftime.
Christianity is redemption…and transformation. It is relationship.
God’s love doesn’t fail. It doesn’t change. It is real, active, and present in this broken world. The scripture so often misappropriated, is yet so powerful. “We know that all things work together for goodGod makes all things work together for good, or in all things God works for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Too often, I have heard well-meaning Christians imply that God causes hurricanes so that good things can happen. That is absolutely wrong.
Paul’s great words are an incredible statement of faith, when rightly understood. He means that God is present, even in the evil aftermath of a hurricane. God is at work, immediately, in ways that defy our comprehension. Through his people, God unfolds good, through all things, in ways that redeem and transform evil’s best attempts at desolation.
“Kevin” understood. Poor, broken, hurting…and blessed.
I don’t know where Kevin is, these twelve months later. In fact, I never saw him again after that day. By faith, I believe that God has worked good things in his life. God’s people offered a prayer, an opportunity, a job fair, a new start.
All things work together…
Grace and Peace,
Adam
A link to a story detailing the United Methodist response to Katrina, one year later. Note: United Methodists, including those who worship at Shepherd of the Hills, have given $66 Million to relief efforts through our United Methodist Committee on Relief. Thank You.
LIFE AT SOTH:
Labor Day Weekend Worship: One service only, this Sunday, at 10:00 a.m. We’ll be doing another wonderful community brunch, so feel free to bring along a homemade dish to share. Tim Potate will be doing the preaching this week! He is exploring a call to ministry and will preach at SOTH while Adam, Holly and family travel to Knoxville, TN.
Small Group Ministry – Fall Community Groups: Ready to get to know your fellow-SOTHer’s even better? Join a small group this fall! On September 10th and 17th, you’ll have the chance to sign-up for the small group of your choice. Hosts, times and teacher information will be available those Sundays, as will copies of our book for this fall, John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat.
Sunday Night Worship – SOTH will begin Sunday night worship on September 10 at 6:00 pm. We really believe that we can do an even better of serving our community and deepening our faith by providing this ministry opportunity. Plan to come on out and see what it’s all about!
New Members: Welcome to a great couple, Josh and Jennifer Taylor, who joined SOTH this past Sunday at our 10:00 worship service. Josh is an engineer for GDOT and Jennifer teaches first grade. We are happy to welcome them to the SOTH family!
Aug 23, 2006
Runner
So, why do you do what you do?
Well…that’s the million dollar question and then some, huh?
At least New Balance thinks so.
I know, this is the second week in a row that I’ve talked about shoes. What’s the deal?
But, listen, when somebody does an advertising campaign this different – this real – I think it deserves a mention.
Admittedly, I’ve been fascinated with marketing for most of my life. I remember looking at cereal boxes as a kid, my interest held by their characters, icons, fonts, colors and layout. I’ve always been intrigued by the things that move us to buy what we buy, think what we think and do what we do, whether for good or bad.
When I see an interesting ad on TV, or hear one on the radio, I always like to stop and really pay attention.
Sometimes, basic really works. For example, simply utter the magic phrase,
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead.
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead.
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead
and I would be willing to bet that most folks will know what you’re talking about.
Sometimes, campaigns rely on more sophisticated techniques. A few weeks ago, a brand new campaign from New Balance made me stand still and take notice. The shoe company didn’t make an appeal to fashion sense, peer pressure, or remarkable claims about how high their product can make you jump, or how fast it will make you run. They definitely didn’t go the route of endorsement by celebrity athletes.
Instead, they made an appeal to the heart. New Balance is looking to evoke in “Joe / Jane Average Shoe Buyer” a feeling of why he or she buys athletic shoes in the first place.
Baseball shoes are about playing baseball, and loving it. Running shoes are about running, and loving it. You get the idea.
A young athlete hits a hard groundball to the shortstop. As he digs and grunts toward first base, running for all he’s worth, the announcer’s voice can be heard. “A reminder to all you pros out there: This is what running out a groundball looks like.”
I love it.
Two high school football players run a tackling drill and knock the daylights out of each other. “A reminder to all you pros out there: This is what ‘practice like you play’ looks like.”
Awesome.
The name of their advertising campaign?
For Love or Money.
So, why do you do what you do?
Here’s what I mean: I’ve recently spent time working with a fired-up Christian who feels a deep call to ministry. As some first preaching opportunities approach on the horizon, he can’t wait to “get” the chance to explore that call.
What a great reminder to me! After 9 years in ministry, I’ll have to confess that yours truly here can sometimes think, “yep, I’ve got to preach again this Sunday.”
The difference between “get” to and “got” to is huge.
Money is a definite reality of life, whether you’re a pro athlete, a teacher, a preacher, a farmer or a ditch-digger. But, I swear, I think we can learn to see the world as a place where we “get” to do what we do, not where we’ve “got” to go make ourselves do it.
Life is a gift, and it’s got to be lived with a passion that sees, and seizes, opportunity.
Everybody needs significance, and folks, that’s what Jesus is all about.
If you’ve ever seen a group of sad Christians slowly jogging out the “groundballs” of ministry because they’ve got to, instead of digging hard because they get to, you know how really sad that is.
Somewhere along the way, the point – the “what it’s all about” -- got tragically, terribly lost. The good news is, it really can be found again.
Jesus had words for the Pharisees who “tied up heavy burdens” on the backs of God’s people. They had lost their way, only playing hard if there were enough people in the stands to applaud their efforts.
Would you run hard, even if nobody was watching?
See, it’s about “practicing like we play.” It’s about “running out groundballs” of faith. It’s about knowing that we have been redeemed. It’s about knowing that the weight of sin and hurt and shame can be taken off our backs, if we’ll ask, and believe that God really does love us that much.
It’s tough to run when you’re carrying a thousand pound pack.
Know what? God is not impressed with your ability to stagger along beneath that load.
Put it down. Run hard, with a tough little smile that says, “I run because I want to. Because I get to. Because I love it.”
Please understand me. This isn’t a pastor doing a volunteer recruitment campaign. I hope you don’t think I’m talking about something as non-threatening as church volunteerism.
I’m talking about a change in identity. We run because “runner” is who we are. Love makes us that way.
So…why do you do what you do?
What if you just did it --- for love? Because you are loved?
I promise, the world knows the difference when it sees it.
This Sunday, I get to preach. I cannot wait.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
What a great Sunday we just had! Our attendance was outstanding, and 9 adults and 7 children joined our number at our 8:30 and 10:00 worship services.
A big SOTH welcome to:
Sharon Hudson
Maria Davis
Patricia Perry
Phyllis Bundy
Amanda Bundy
Angie and Harry Shore Family
Samantha Smith
Sara Loehn
We had a great time together with our 2006 new members and Church Council for lunch, and a good start was made on building connections for those who are new to the SOTH family.
Small Group Ministry and New Worship Opportunity Coming in September:
Look for more details soon on the small groups that are organizing to study John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat in September and October. Also, beginning September 10th, SOTH will begin offering a Sunday night worship experience for our community. More details coming very soon!
Well…that’s the million dollar question and then some, huh?
At least New Balance thinks so.
I know, this is the second week in a row that I’ve talked about shoes. What’s the deal?
But, listen, when somebody does an advertising campaign this different – this real – I think it deserves a mention.
Admittedly, I’ve been fascinated with marketing for most of my life. I remember looking at cereal boxes as a kid, my interest held by their characters, icons, fonts, colors and layout. I’ve always been intrigued by the things that move us to buy what we buy, think what we think and do what we do, whether for good or bad.
When I see an interesting ad on TV, or hear one on the radio, I always like to stop and really pay attention.
Sometimes, basic really works. For example, simply utter the magic phrase,
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead.
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead.
Head On, Apply Directly to the Forehead
and I would be willing to bet that most folks will know what you’re talking about.
Sometimes, campaigns rely on more sophisticated techniques. A few weeks ago, a brand new campaign from New Balance made me stand still and take notice. The shoe company didn’t make an appeal to fashion sense, peer pressure, or remarkable claims about how high their product can make you jump, or how fast it will make you run. They definitely didn’t go the route of endorsement by celebrity athletes.
Instead, they made an appeal to the heart. New Balance is looking to evoke in “Joe / Jane Average Shoe Buyer” a feeling of why he or she buys athletic shoes in the first place.
Baseball shoes are about playing baseball, and loving it. Running shoes are about running, and loving it. You get the idea.
A young athlete hits a hard groundball to the shortstop. As he digs and grunts toward first base, running for all he’s worth, the announcer’s voice can be heard. “A reminder to all you pros out there: This is what running out a groundball looks like.”
I love it.
Two high school football players run a tackling drill and knock the daylights out of each other. “A reminder to all you pros out there: This is what ‘practice like you play’ looks like.”
Awesome.
The name of their advertising campaign?
For Love or Money.
So, why do you do what you do?
Here’s what I mean: I’ve recently spent time working with a fired-up Christian who feels a deep call to ministry. As some first preaching opportunities approach on the horizon, he can’t wait to “get” the chance to explore that call.
What a great reminder to me! After 9 years in ministry, I’ll have to confess that yours truly here can sometimes think, “yep, I’ve got to preach again this Sunday.”
The difference between “get” to and “got” to is huge.
Money is a definite reality of life, whether you’re a pro athlete, a teacher, a preacher, a farmer or a ditch-digger. But, I swear, I think we can learn to see the world as a place where we “get” to do what we do, not where we’ve “got” to go make ourselves do it.
Life is a gift, and it’s got to be lived with a passion that sees, and seizes, opportunity.
Everybody needs significance, and folks, that’s what Jesus is all about.
If you’ve ever seen a group of sad Christians slowly jogging out the “groundballs” of ministry because they’ve got to, instead of digging hard because they get to, you know how really sad that is.
Somewhere along the way, the point – the “what it’s all about” -- got tragically, terribly lost. The good news is, it really can be found again.
Jesus had words for the Pharisees who “tied up heavy burdens” on the backs of God’s people. They had lost their way, only playing hard if there were enough people in the stands to applaud their efforts.
Would you run hard, even if nobody was watching?
See, it’s about “practicing like we play.” It’s about “running out groundballs” of faith. It’s about knowing that we have been redeemed. It’s about knowing that the weight of sin and hurt and shame can be taken off our backs, if we’ll ask, and believe that God really does love us that much.
It’s tough to run when you’re carrying a thousand pound pack.
Know what? God is not impressed with your ability to stagger along beneath that load.
Put it down. Run hard, with a tough little smile that says, “I run because I want to. Because I get to. Because I love it.”
Please understand me. This isn’t a pastor doing a volunteer recruitment campaign. I hope you don’t think I’m talking about something as non-threatening as church volunteerism.
I’m talking about a change in identity. We run because “runner” is who we are. Love makes us that way.
So…why do you do what you do?
What if you just did it --- for love? Because you are loved?
I promise, the world knows the difference when it sees it.
This Sunday, I get to preach. I cannot wait.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
What a great Sunday we just had! Our attendance was outstanding, and 9 adults and 7 children joined our number at our 8:30 and 10:00 worship services.
A big SOTH welcome to:
Sharon Hudson
Maria Davis
Patricia Perry
Phyllis Bundy
Amanda Bundy
Angie and Harry Shore Family
Samantha Smith
Sara Loehn
We had a great time together with our 2006 new members and Church Council for lunch, and a good start was made on building connections for those who are new to the SOTH family.
Small Group Ministry and New Worship Opportunity Coming in September:
Look for more details soon on the small groups that are organizing to study John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat in September and October. Also, beginning September 10th, SOTH will begin offering a Sunday night worship experience for our community. More details coming very soon!
Aug 17, 2006
Shoes
It’s official. I have a new hero.
Stephon Marbury.
Admittedly, this is unlikely. He has way more tattoos than me, I’m not a devotee of the New York Knicks, and not really much of an NBA fan at all (too worn out after baseball season…and then there’s college football…).
If you’re a GA Tech basketball fan, I know you remember Stephon. He played his freshman year, then said he “used” the school, and went pro.
Not good.
But here’s why I like him.
It’s his shoes.
They’re really cheap (I mean inexpensive), and that's why I love them.
Now, the very fact that UM preachers are out here loving his “Starbury’s” may point to their eventual demise. I can’t be helping their “cool.”
But trust me, this really is cool.
Almost as cool as the $1M gift that Marbury gave to Katrina relief last year, or the fact that it’s reported he’s hired seven barbers who give free haircuts to the kids in his old Coney Island neighborhood.
Yesterday morning, while drinking my second cup of coffee, I watched the CNN morning duo work through their usual routine. Their guest…Stephon Marbury.
He was on to pitch his new line of basketball shoes. OK, an NBA player with a new line of shoes. What makes that news-worthy?
They cost $14.98.
Yep, the decimal is in the right place and it’s not a misprint.
Fourteen Dollars and 98/100.
In case you’re wondering, that’s a little less than most NBA player-endorsed basketball shoes. Allen Iverson’s and Michael Jordan’s go for about $150 - $200 per pair.
The CNN host, Miles O’Brien, seemed indignant.
“Are you cutting corners on quality to sell the shoes at this price?” he asked. “No way,” said Marbury, “cut these shoes and a pair of Jordans right down the middle and you’ll see that they’re identical on the inside.”
“Well,” said O’Brien, “do you see anything wrong with selling the shoes for $200 if that’s what the market will pay?”
“That’s not what I’m here to talk about,” Marbury said, “what other people do is up to them, I just think if you can sell them for $15, why not?”
Folks, that’s revolutionary thinking. Or maybe just plain bad thinking from a business perspective.
$185 less profit, that’s why not --- right?
What Marbury said next really got my attention. I think I found myself applauding in front of the TV set before I came back to myself.
“I think we can teach kids that they can have a nice pair of shoes without paying $200. I think that we can teach them that they can have a lifestyle.”
OK, really revolutionary.
Who goes around saying that you should buy shoes because they’re shoes, not because they make you “cool?”
Besides really uncool parents like me, I mean.
Something rings a bell here:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink,or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? …Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God, and its righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6
Or, put another way, “there’s more to life than shoes.” There’s…life.
As my favorite guitar-playing, post-modern, chilled-out, deep-thinking, lyric-writing prophet of the thirty-somethings Jack Johnson has said:
look at all those fancy clothes
Stephon Marbury.
Admittedly, this is unlikely. He has way more tattoos than me, I’m not a devotee of the New York Knicks, and not really much of an NBA fan at all (too worn out after baseball season…and then there’s college football…).
If you’re a GA Tech basketball fan, I know you remember Stephon. He played his freshman year, then said he “used” the school, and went pro.
Not good.
But here’s why I like him.
It’s his shoes.
They’re really cheap (I mean inexpensive), and that's why I love them.
Now, the very fact that UM preachers are out here loving his “Starbury’s” may point to their eventual demise. I can’t be helping their “cool.”
But trust me, this really is cool.
Almost as cool as the $1M gift that Marbury gave to Katrina relief last year, or the fact that it’s reported he’s hired seven barbers who give free haircuts to the kids in his old Coney Island neighborhood.
Yesterday morning, while drinking my second cup of coffee, I watched the CNN morning duo work through their usual routine. Their guest…Stephon Marbury.
He was on to pitch his new line of basketball shoes. OK, an NBA player with a new line of shoes. What makes that news-worthy?
They cost $14.98.
Yep, the decimal is in the right place and it’s not a misprint.
Fourteen Dollars and 98/100.
In case you’re wondering, that’s a little less than most NBA player-endorsed basketball shoes. Allen Iverson’s and Michael Jordan’s go for about $150 - $200 per pair.
The CNN host, Miles O’Brien, seemed indignant.
“Are you cutting corners on quality to sell the shoes at this price?” he asked. “No way,” said Marbury, “cut these shoes and a pair of Jordans right down the middle and you’ll see that they’re identical on the inside.”
“Well,” said O’Brien, “do you see anything wrong with selling the shoes for $200 if that’s what the market will pay?”
“That’s not what I’m here to talk about,” Marbury said, “what other people do is up to them, I just think if you can sell them for $15, why not?”
Folks, that’s revolutionary thinking. Or maybe just plain bad thinking from a business perspective.
$185 less profit, that’s why not --- right?
What Marbury said next really got my attention. I think I found myself applauding in front of the TV set before I came back to myself.
“I think we can teach kids that they can have a nice pair of shoes without paying $200. I think that we can teach them that they can have a lifestyle.”
OK, really revolutionary.
Who goes around saying that you should buy shoes because they’re shoes, not because they make you “cool?”
Besides really uncool parents like me, I mean.
Something rings a bell here:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink,or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? …Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God, and its righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6
Or, put another way, “there’s more to life than shoes.” There’s…life.
As my favorite guitar-playing, post-modern, chilled-out, deep-thinking, lyric-writing prophet of the thirty-somethings Jack Johnson has said:
look at all those fancy clothes
but these can keep us warm just like those
what about your soul, is it gold
straight from the mold and ready to be sold
cars and phones and diamond rings, bling bling
those are only removeable things
what about your mind, does it shine oh
what about your mind, does it shine oh
all those things that concern you more than your time
I loved Miles O’Brien’s final question: “Look, Stephon, isn’t part of the appeal of expensive basketball shoes that they’re expensive? Who’s going to wear $15 shoes and think they’re cool?”
“I am.” Marbury said. “I’m gonna wear these shoes on the court and rip it up out there.”
Yeah. Good answer.
Folks, that’s the answer the church ought to make to the world, as well.
Who’s going to make decisions based on a different set of priorities?
I loved Miles O’Brien’s final question: “Look, Stephon, isn’t part of the appeal of expensive basketball shoes that they’re expensive? Who’s going to wear $15 shoes and think they’re cool?”
“I am.” Marbury said. “I’m gonna wear these shoes on the court and rip it up out there.”
Yeah. Good answer.
Folks, that’s the answer the church ought to make to the world, as well.
Who’s going to make decisions based on a different set of priorities?
We will.
Who’s really going to live in a stuff-crazed culture and learn to put stuff in its place?
Yep. Us.
Who’s going give TEN PERCENT, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!? to God first?
That's us, too.
Who’s going to “not worry” about the things of the “gentiles?”
“We are,” says the Church. “And with God's help, we’re gonna rip it up out there.”
Seeing is believing. Now, I gotta go find me some Starburys.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Don’t forget, “Membership Sunday” this coming Sunday morning at SOTH. We’ll be talking about what it means to commit our lives to Jesus Christ and to join together as disciples in the Church. Already, several families have committed to uniting in membership with SOTH this coming Sunday. If you’ve been considering whether SOTH might be the place that God is calling you to put down roots, keep praying about it, and consider giving Adam a call in the church office to talk about it. We’ll continue our current sermon series “Back to School” at both 8:30 and 10:00 worship.
“We are,” says the Church. “And with God's help, we’re gonna rip it up out there.”
Seeing is believing. Now, I gotta go find me some Starburys.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Don’t forget, “Membership Sunday” this coming Sunday morning at SOTH. We’ll be talking about what it means to commit our lives to Jesus Christ and to join together as disciples in the Church. Already, several families have committed to uniting in membership with SOTH this coming Sunday. If you’ve been considering whether SOTH might be the place that God is calling you to put down roots, keep praying about it, and consider giving Adam a call in the church office to talk about it. We’ll continue our current sermon series “Back to School” at both 8:30 and 10:00 worship.
Aug 9, 2006
Dumplin'
Well, folks, I’m feeling frighteningly country this morning.
Actually, it’s not frightening to me, though it might be to some of y’all.
By the way, everybody please take note of the correct apostrophe placement in the deeply southern and truly useful word, “y’all.” It goes after the “y.” Please don’t write ya’ll. Or worse yet, yal’l, which I have actually seen before. Just don’t do it.
The word is short for “you all,” which is something every person will absolutely have need of saying now and again.
For instance, when I got to go to England this past fall, I asked two staff in the lobby of a large hotel in Birmingham whether, “y’all have wireless internet access somewhere here in the lobby.”
Nobody in Birmingham, Alabama, has ever laughed at me for saying y’all, but the Brummies thought I was sort of cute, maybe, and perhaps a little less than bright and definitely in need of nurture, so they actually walked me to the place I needed to go.
Anyway, here I sit this morning, listening to J.D. Crowe pick his banjo, while the boys in the band back him up on “She’s Gone, Gone, Gone,” and, “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler.”
That means we’ve only got a few more minutes until “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” at which point I will definitely have to pause and pay attention to the music, so we better keep moving.
What they say is true. You can take the boy out of Crockett County, but you can’t take the Crockett County (TN, of course) out of the boy, and that’s not a bad thing.
I have found that most folks who grew up somewhere south of Cincinnati, east of Dallas and north of Orlando have some big things in common that they can get in touch with pretty quickly.
No matter how many generations we might be removed from the land, there are shared memories and experiences of land, language, faith and most importantly…food, that form common ground beneath us.
Have you ever watched a couple of southern folks try to “out country” each other?
I once got in conversation with a good friend and colleague about which of us had the most authentic southern, country credentials. We compared family names (always a good place to start), past work experiences (hey folks, I have hauled hay, worked truck crops and cut tobacco in the past), and, of course, culinary adventures.
Finally, she said, “when my husband came to my house to pick me up for our first date, there was a dead mule in the yard.”
Dang.
“You win,” I said.
Dang.
So, let’s see how much common ground you and I might have. Here’s a little southern cookin’ test:
1) Breads / Starch
a. Do you know a real, live, homemade biscuit when you see and experience it, and do you understand what the term “cat head” means in reference to said baked good?
b. Cornbread ---- Do you know the difference, and more importantly, the correct application, of fried, cracklin’, and stick and sliced cornbread forms? Do you ever eat cornbread muffins?
Here’s a tip --- cornbread muffins are nearly always wrong, wrong, wrong, and for goodness sake, please know that cornbread should never be sweet under any circumstances. Sorry, this is a non-negotiable core value.
c. Here’s one that separates sheep and goats pretty quickly: Do you know the difference between stuffing and dressing? If not, you are invited to our house for Thanksgiving and we’ll show you the way.
d. Grits. The ultimate litmus test. Do you turn your nose up at the thought? There is little hope. Do you butter and sugar them? You are marginal. Give ‘em some salt, perhaps a little pepper, mix them with your runny fried eggs, and sop with a cat-head. It’s that simple.
2) Vegetables
a. Home-grown tomatoes: do you give them proper homage and worship as the deity of summertime produce? You can be exiled from our home for not understanding that you can meet God with nothing more than a backyard, vine-ripe, fresh-picked tomato and a shaker of salt.
OK, not really, but you should give it a try with an open mind. Again, come to my house, I’ve got ripe tomatoes in the backyard right now.
b. Bean / Pea sub-category:
Do you like your green beans crunchy? Beware, this is closely related to the cornbread muffin question.
Do you prefer all beans and most vegetables cooked with lots of pork fat and stewed beyond easy recognition? Now we’re talking.
Bonus --- Can you identify and explain the differences between blackeye, field and crowder peas?
c. The Fried vegetables
Another tip -- many, many vegetables can be made much more palatable if they are sliced, rolled in cornmeal and deep fried. The chief example of this, of course, is okra. Along with the cornbread, green beans and grits tests, fried okra is one of the quickest and easiest ways to separate real southern eaters from the wannabes.
Of course a nod must be given to yellow squash and the European-sounding zucchini as outstanding fried companions to the noble okra.
d. Corn
Do you know what “silver queen” means? The term alone has already made the true southerners out there start to salivate. A freshly boiled ear of silver queen is also an absolutely acceptable path to God. When combined with fresh, homegrown tomatoes, life is worth the living.
When made from frozen or canned summertime corn, “creamed” corn can get you through ‘til spring.
e. Greens
If you don’t know what “greens” even means, then I don’t know where to begin. Here’s the test. Collard, mustard or turnip, which is best?
Double-bonus points: Can you define the term “pot liquor?”
Triple- (ok, infinite) bonus points: Can you identify, gather, and prepare “poke salad” without poisoning yourself or others?
f. What’s Not on the Vegetable List:
No broccoli, brussels sprouts, spinach or salads (other than poke, which ain’t a salad) of any kind appear on this list. Interestingly, cabbage is appropriate, boiled or mulched into slaw, although there is vigorous slaw debate amongst southerners.
3. Meats
a. Ham --- do you know that “honey baked” is not the only kind of ham available for consumption? Real ham is called “country,” and it’s definitely, again, not sweet. You will, however, need about 2 gallons of sweet tea to wash it down. Ironic, I know.
b. Pork --- this is a good place to stop and consider the southern response to pork in general. It’s something like, “yes, please.” The pig kept southerners alive and kicking for hundreds of years.
Pork means bacon (and bacon grease), sausage, tenderloin (you know what this is and what to do with it, right? --- Think fried, not grilled, people), ham and of course, BBQ. BBQ needs its own book and is more than I can begin to take on in this expanding essay. Let me just say this about it --- shoulder, hickory smoked, pulled not chopped, vinegar-based sauce, not tomato. Let the debate begin.
As I once heard a deeply southern lady say, “I do love a pig, from root-to-toot.” If you don’t know what that means, please don’t ask.
c. Chicken --- nearly as versatile as pork, but mostly this means fried. Fried chicken, like BBQ, is really an art form too complex to discuss. The good stuff doesn’t come from the Colonel. It comes from a real kitchen, and a real cast iron skillet. If you’ve never had it, you’ll know it when you do.
d. Do you know how to “country fry” a steak? If not, it’s worth learning, and no, there’s not really a “steak” involved. Just trust me on this.
e. Fish --- Again, fried, and that’s about all I can say. Good fish should sort of get the same treatment that a good piece of okra receives. Authentic diners know that the real prize here isn’t catfish, it’s crappie. Now, Georgia folks say CRAP-ee, which is really great, and truly hilarious. Personally, I eat CRAH-pee, but that’s just me. But then again, I also eat Puh-CAHNS, not PEE-CANNS, but again, that’s just Crockett County talking.
4. Desserts and “Trimmings”
a. Gravy, of course, should have a category unto itself. Can you spot “red-eye” when you see it, and do you know when “sawmill” would be a better choice?
b. Sweet Tea is the ultimate cultural icon of the south. I’ve heard it called the “champagne of the south,” and like all masterpieces, it requires a very careful and delicate treatment. Let’s just say the stuff at McDonald’s is not what we’re talking about. It shouldn’t be so sweet that it strips the enamel off your teeth, and it needs to be strong enough to taste like more than sweetened water. When it’s just right, there is not a better thirst-quenching energy drink out there.
c. Caramel pie. Maybe this is just something my grandmamma does, but pretty much this dessert defies easy description. It’s what the angels eat in heaven, if they’re lucky. I’d say the other go-to’s that you need to know are peach cobbler, blackberry cobbler, and of course, PUH-cahn pie.
OK, hungry yet?
That list either made you think of summertime with your grandparents, or you don’t know what in the world that rambling was all about.
It all depends on whether we share a similar experience.
Shared experience, of any kind, does wonders for our ability to communicate with each other.
Here’s what I mean. No matter what you and I might disagree about, I bet if you’re the kind of person who smiles at the thought of cracklin’ cornbread, we could find ourselves a diner, sit down over a “meat and three” and figure something out.
By the way --- here’s how you pick a good, southern (I.e. “soul” or “country” food) diner. It’s should be clean enough, but not immaculate. If they’ve got enough time to make it all perfect, they don’t have enough customers.
Your waitress should look like she could really, really use a vacation, and it’s a very good sign if she calls you any combination of “sweetie,” “sugar,” “honey,” “darling,” or even, “dumplin.”
They should not hand you a menu, because either it’s already on the table, stuck between the napkin holders and the salt and pepper, or you can pick from the items written on the chalkboard posted over the kitchen. The place ought to be named after somebody, preferably something like “Calvin’s,” “Millie’s,” “Buck’s” or “Ruby’s.”
One other item --- look for lots and lots of old men smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee very early in the morning. You’ve found your diner.
There’s not much that can’t get solved over black-eyes and collards between two people who have found common ground. I don’t think the U.N. has tried collards and black-eyes yet in the middle east, but it’s as good as any other idea at this point.
The real truth is that sometimes, even an inch or two of common ground can seem impossible to find. What do we do when what’s “grits” to one person is “polenta” to another?
I have learned a lot about the answer to that question from my time at SOTH.
SOTH is a place of real diversity, where people from different backgrounds, regions, races and even nations, choose to come together and form a true community.
Our differences, from experiences to appearances, to opinions, are sometimes pretty dramatic. I’ll never forget sitting in my first meeting a year ago with a group of 8 or 10 leaders from our congregation. “I have to tell you,” I said, “I would never put all of you people together in the same church in a million years.” Mostly, the group seemed amused and a little confused by my statement.
Now, I think I understand why. Even if you don’t know a country ham from a “honey-baked” and you’ve never been called “sugar dumplin” by an over-worked waitress, our shared experience of faith far outweighs our differences.
When the church is running right, thinking straight, and walking together, led by the Holy Spirit, we know that we are sisters and brothers in the same, crazy family. God really is our father, and he really does love every one of us the same.
Perhaps the Apostle Paul said it best to the Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (3:28)
For Christians, Jesus is our common ground. He is the place where we are all one, and all free.
The challenge before us, then, is to find a shared ground of experience held in common with the scared, cynical, questioning world in which we live. There are those in our communities who are looking for answers, but convinced there are none to find, especially not at church. There must be a way to show them our own struggle, and invite them into an open discussion of the questions we all share.
Maybe we can even hope to invite them into the story of redemption in Christ that we are finding together. Think about that common ground. When we find it, we can tell His story, and really make a difference.
Now, let’s go get some lunch.
Y’all come back now, y’hear?
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Our Sermon Series, “Back to School” continues this Sunday with Rule #2: “Be Nice to the Lunchlady,” at both 8:30 and 10:00 worship. We’ll look at how the people of Israel continued to grumble throughout the Exodus, even as God provided for them and led them into the Promised Land.
Wednesday night Supper at SOTH happens one week from tonight, 6:30 p.m., as school gets back in session in our community and life begins to fall into routine for our families. We expect a big turnout, so make sure to sign up this coming Sunday.
Membership Sunday will be two Sundays away on August 20th. We’ll celebrate this year’s new members, receive new families and celebrate with a lunch after 10:00 worship on that day. A big SOTH welcome to recent new members Rocky, Susan and Martha Jo Barnes, and to Liz and Ike Eisenman who joined SOTH this Sunday at the 10:00 worship gathering.
Look for a new small group ministry to take shape in September as we study John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, Get Out of the Boat.
Actually, it’s not frightening to me, though it might be to some of y’all.
By the way, everybody please take note of the correct apostrophe placement in the deeply southern and truly useful word, “y’all.” It goes after the “y.” Please don’t write ya’ll. Or worse yet, yal’l, which I have actually seen before. Just don’t do it.
The word is short for “you all,” which is something every person will absolutely have need of saying now and again.
For instance, when I got to go to England this past fall, I asked two staff in the lobby of a large hotel in Birmingham whether, “y’all have wireless internet access somewhere here in the lobby.”
Nobody in Birmingham, Alabama, has ever laughed at me for saying y’all, but the Brummies thought I was sort of cute, maybe, and perhaps a little less than bright and definitely in need of nurture, so they actually walked me to the place I needed to go.
Anyway, here I sit this morning, listening to J.D. Crowe pick his banjo, while the boys in the band back him up on “She’s Gone, Gone, Gone,” and, “Don’t Give Your Heart to a Rambler.”
That means we’ve only got a few more minutes until “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” at which point I will definitely have to pause and pay attention to the music, so we better keep moving.
What they say is true. You can take the boy out of Crockett County, but you can’t take the Crockett County (TN, of course) out of the boy, and that’s not a bad thing.
I have found that most folks who grew up somewhere south of Cincinnati, east of Dallas and north of Orlando have some big things in common that they can get in touch with pretty quickly.
No matter how many generations we might be removed from the land, there are shared memories and experiences of land, language, faith and most importantly…food, that form common ground beneath us.
Have you ever watched a couple of southern folks try to “out country” each other?
I once got in conversation with a good friend and colleague about which of us had the most authentic southern, country credentials. We compared family names (always a good place to start), past work experiences (hey folks, I have hauled hay, worked truck crops and cut tobacco in the past), and, of course, culinary adventures.
Finally, she said, “when my husband came to my house to pick me up for our first date, there was a dead mule in the yard.”
Dang.
“You win,” I said.
Dang.
So, let’s see how much common ground you and I might have. Here’s a little southern cookin’ test:
1) Breads / Starch
a. Do you know a real, live, homemade biscuit when you see and experience it, and do you understand what the term “cat head” means in reference to said baked good?
b. Cornbread ---- Do you know the difference, and more importantly, the correct application, of fried, cracklin’, and stick and sliced cornbread forms? Do you ever eat cornbread muffins?
Here’s a tip --- cornbread muffins are nearly always wrong, wrong, wrong, and for goodness sake, please know that cornbread should never be sweet under any circumstances. Sorry, this is a non-negotiable core value.
c. Here’s one that separates sheep and goats pretty quickly: Do you know the difference between stuffing and dressing? If not, you are invited to our house for Thanksgiving and we’ll show you the way.
d. Grits. The ultimate litmus test. Do you turn your nose up at the thought? There is little hope. Do you butter and sugar them? You are marginal. Give ‘em some salt, perhaps a little pepper, mix them with your runny fried eggs, and sop with a cat-head. It’s that simple.
2) Vegetables
a. Home-grown tomatoes: do you give them proper homage and worship as the deity of summertime produce? You can be exiled from our home for not understanding that you can meet God with nothing more than a backyard, vine-ripe, fresh-picked tomato and a shaker of salt.
OK, not really, but you should give it a try with an open mind. Again, come to my house, I’ve got ripe tomatoes in the backyard right now.
b. Bean / Pea sub-category:
Do you like your green beans crunchy? Beware, this is closely related to the cornbread muffin question.
Do you prefer all beans and most vegetables cooked with lots of pork fat and stewed beyond easy recognition? Now we’re talking.
Bonus --- Can you identify and explain the differences between blackeye, field and crowder peas?
c. The Fried vegetables
Another tip -- many, many vegetables can be made much more palatable if they are sliced, rolled in cornmeal and deep fried. The chief example of this, of course, is okra. Along with the cornbread, green beans and grits tests, fried okra is one of the quickest and easiest ways to separate real southern eaters from the wannabes.
Of course a nod must be given to yellow squash and the European-sounding zucchini as outstanding fried companions to the noble okra.
d. Corn
Do you know what “silver queen” means? The term alone has already made the true southerners out there start to salivate. A freshly boiled ear of silver queen is also an absolutely acceptable path to God. When combined with fresh, homegrown tomatoes, life is worth the living.
When made from frozen or canned summertime corn, “creamed” corn can get you through ‘til spring.
e. Greens
If you don’t know what “greens” even means, then I don’t know where to begin. Here’s the test. Collard, mustard or turnip, which is best?
Double-bonus points: Can you define the term “pot liquor?”
Triple- (ok, infinite) bonus points: Can you identify, gather, and prepare “poke salad” without poisoning yourself or others?
f. What’s Not on the Vegetable List:
No broccoli, brussels sprouts, spinach or salads (other than poke, which ain’t a salad) of any kind appear on this list. Interestingly, cabbage is appropriate, boiled or mulched into slaw, although there is vigorous slaw debate amongst southerners.
3. Meats
a. Ham --- do you know that “honey baked” is not the only kind of ham available for consumption? Real ham is called “country,” and it’s definitely, again, not sweet. You will, however, need about 2 gallons of sweet tea to wash it down. Ironic, I know.
b. Pork --- this is a good place to stop and consider the southern response to pork in general. It’s something like, “yes, please.” The pig kept southerners alive and kicking for hundreds of years.
Pork means bacon (and bacon grease), sausage, tenderloin (you know what this is and what to do with it, right? --- Think fried, not grilled, people), ham and of course, BBQ. BBQ needs its own book and is more than I can begin to take on in this expanding essay. Let me just say this about it --- shoulder, hickory smoked, pulled not chopped, vinegar-based sauce, not tomato. Let the debate begin.
As I once heard a deeply southern lady say, “I do love a pig, from root-to-toot.” If you don’t know what that means, please don’t ask.
c. Chicken --- nearly as versatile as pork, but mostly this means fried. Fried chicken, like BBQ, is really an art form too complex to discuss. The good stuff doesn’t come from the Colonel. It comes from a real kitchen, and a real cast iron skillet. If you’ve never had it, you’ll know it when you do.
d. Do you know how to “country fry” a steak? If not, it’s worth learning, and no, there’s not really a “steak” involved. Just trust me on this.
e. Fish --- Again, fried, and that’s about all I can say. Good fish should sort of get the same treatment that a good piece of okra receives. Authentic diners know that the real prize here isn’t catfish, it’s crappie. Now, Georgia folks say CRAP-ee, which is really great, and truly hilarious. Personally, I eat CRAH-pee, but that’s just me. But then again, I also eat Puh-CAHNS, not PEE-CANNS, but again, that’s just Crockett County talking.
4. Desserts and “Trimmings”
a. Gravy, of course, should have a category unto itself. Can you spot “red-eye” when you see it, and do you know when “sawmill” would be a better choice?
b. Sweet Tea is the ultimate cultural icon of the south. I’ve heard it called the “champagne of the south,” and like all masterpieces, it requires a very careful and delicate treatment. Let’s just say the stuff at McDonald’s is not what we’re talking about. It shouldn’t be so sweet that it strips the enamel off your teeth, and it needs to be strong enough to taste like more than sweetened water. When it’s just right, there is not a better thirst-quenching energy drink out there.
c. Caramel pie. Maybe this is just something my grandmamma does, but pretty much this dessert defies easy description. It’s what the angels eat in heaven, if they’re lucky. I’d say the other go-to’s that you need to know are peach cobbler, blackberry cobbler, and of course, PUH-cahn pie.
OK, hungry yet?
That list either made you think of summertime with your grandparents, or you don’t know what in the world that rambling was all about.
It all depends on whether we share a similar experience.
Shared experience, of any kind, does wonders for our ability to communicate with each other.
Here’s what I mean. No matter what you and I might disagree about, I bet if you’re the kind of person who smiles at the thought of cracklin’ cornbread, we could find ourselves a diner, sit down over a “meat and three” and figure something out.
By the way --- here’s how you pick a good, southern (I.e. “soul” or “country” food) diner. It’s should be clean enough, but not immaculate. If they’ve got enough time to make it all perfect, they don’t have enough customers.
Your waitress should look like she could really, really use a vacation, and it’s a very good sign if she calls you any combination of “sweetie,” “sugar,” “honey,” “darling,” or even, “dumplin.”
They should not hand you a menu, because either it’s already on the table, stuck between the napkin holders and the salt and pepper, or you can pick from the items written on the chalkboard posted over the kitchen. The place ought to be named after somebody, preferably something like “Calvin’s,” “Millie’s,” “Buck’s” or “Ruby’s.”
One other item --- look for lots and lots of old men smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee very early in the morning. You’ve found your diner.
There’s not much that can’t get solved over black-eyes and collards between two people who have found common ground. I don’t think the U.N. has tried collards and black-eyes yet in the middle east, but it’s as good as any other idea at this point.
The real truth is that sometimes, even an inch or two of common ground can seem impossible to find. What do we do when what’s “grits” to one person is “polenta” to another?
I have learned a lot about the answer to that question from my time at SOTH.
SOTH is a place of real diversity, where people from different backgrounds, regions, races and even nations, choose to come together and form a true community.
Our differences, from experiences to appearances, to opinions, are sometimes pretty dramatic. I’ll never forget sitting in my first meeting a year ago with a group of 8 or 10 leaders from our congregation. “I have to tell you,” I said, “I would never put all of you people together in the same church in a million years.” Mostly, the group seemed amused and a little confused by my statement.
Now, I think I understand why. Even if you don’t know a country ham from a “honey-baked” and you’ve never been called “sugar dumplin” by an over-worked waitress, our shared experience of faith far outweighs our differences.
When the church is running right, thinking straight, and walking together, led by the Holy Spirit, we know that we are sisters and brothers in the same, crazy family. God really is our father, and he really does love every one of us the same.
Perhaps the Apostle Paul said it best to the Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (3:28)
For Christians, Jesus is our common ground. He is the place where we are all one, and all free.
The challenge before us, then, is to find a shared ground of experience held in common with the scared, cynical, questioning world in which we live. There are those in our communities who are looking for answers, but convinced there are none to find, especially not at church. There must be a way to show them our own struggle, and invite them into an open discussion of the questions we all share.
Maybe we can even hope to invite them into the story of redemption in Christ that we are finding together. Think about that common ground. When we find it, we can tell His story, and really make a difference.
Now, let’s go get some lunch.
Y’all come back now, y’hear?
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Our Sermon Series, “Back to School” continues this Sunday with Rule #2: “Be Nice to the Lunchlady,” at both 8:30 and 10:00 worship. We’ll look at how the people of Israel continued to grumble throughout the Exodus, even as God provided for them and led them into the Promised Land.
Wednesday night Supper at SOTH happens one week from tonight, 6:30 p.m., as school gets back in session in our community and life begins to fall into routine for our families. We expect a big turnout, so make sure to sign up this coming Sunday.
Membership Sunday will be two Sundays away on August 20th. We’ll celebrate this year’s new members, receive new families and celebrate with a lunch after 10:00 worship on that day. A big SOTH welcome to recent new members Rocky, Susan and Martha Jo Barnes, and to Liz and Ike Eisenman who joined SOTH this Sunday at the 10:00 worship gathering.
Look for a new small group ministry to take shape in September as we study John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, Get Out of the Boat.
Aug 2, 2006
Above
What would make you mad enough to leave your church?
Nothing, I hope, but we all know better.
Rev. Gregory Boyd, pastor of Woodland Hills Church outside St. Paul, Minnesota, knows better, too, and has had some recent first-hand experience.
In a 6-part sermon series called, “The Cross and The Sword,” he challenged his congregation not to confuse patriotism and faith in Jesus Christ. He asserted that too often, the church has allowed itself to become a pawn for politicians.
“America wasn’t founded as a theocracy,” he said. “America was founded by people trying to escape theocracies. Never in history have we had a Christian theocracy where it wasn’t bloody and barbaric. That’s why our Constitution wisely put in a separation of church and state.
“I am sorry to tell you,” he continued, “that America is not the light of the world and the hope of the world. The light of the world and the hope of the world is Jesus Christ.”
…And 1,000 of his 5,000 church members left.
Recently, the NY Times wrote an article about the Woodland Hills congregation and the fracture that’s taken place. I hope you can take a few moments to read it. It’s very thought-provoking, and definitely worth your time.
How can the declaration that, “the light of the world and the hope of the world is Jesus Christ,” drive 1,000 people away from their church?
The answer is part of a mystifying and deeply intriguing part of Christian life in America, circa 2006.
You see, there is a line.
Draw it out, horizontally across the world. Find your place on it, dig in, and defend.
That’s what Christianity is all about, right? I’m sure I remember Jesus saying something like, “the most important thing is being right, knowing you’re right, and defending your position from all of those who are wrong.”
Yeah, …he didn’t say that.
In his book, A New Kind of Christian, author and pastor Brian McLaren says that modern Christianity has inherent tendency toward placing everyone on a “line” of politics and conviction, somewhere from right (conservative) to left (liberal).
The point, then, too often becomes that of convincing the folks on other parts of “the line” to move over toward our ways of thinking, or to find other people out there who can “convert” to our side.
You see, Jesus stands on our part of the line ---- right?
Jesus wasn’t much for “lines,” as far as I can tell.
He wasn’t much for being used: by his disciples, by the religious establishment, by those who would make him “king,” or by those who would gain personal power by standing beside him.
In his book, McLaren suggests that perhaps there is a place “above the line.” Maybe Jesus stands there, and invites us to join him.
Here’s what I mean: take the most “hot button” issues of our day, and see where we at SOTH fall on the line.
Many of us fall to the right. Many of us fall to the left. Many of us are in the middle, and fall differently on different issues.
Where would Jesus fall? What would he say about the issues of our day?
Based on all that Jesus tells us in the Gospels, my imagination says he might say something like this:
“You have heard it said that fill in the blank is wrong. I say that any of you who hate your brother or sister have more than filled in the blank already.”
Above the line.
“Jesus,” they asked him, “what about the commandments, conflict, divorce, murder, adultery, retaliation?” “How can we justify our place on ‘the line?’”
“The line,” he says, “runs through your own heart. Look to yourself and the lumber in your own life before you pick someone else’s splinters” (Clearly, my paraphrase).
There are some big old behemoth churches out there in the world, packed every Sunday, that make their living by defending the line. It feels good there, for those who belong, and a good dose of red, white and blue every July just makes things feel even better.
No doubt, things may look good right now, but I’m afraid their “going out of business” banners may be at the print shop already.
There are 100, maybe 1000 times more people at Arbor Place Mall (a Douglasville landmark, for you out-of-towners reading along) each week than enter the doors of our churches.
Those folks, are much more likely to be looking for love, peace, reconciliation, community and relationship than someone who will tell them where they ought to stand on “the line.”
They don’t think right, or look right or act right enough to find a home in many houses of God. I pray with all I am that they can always find a place in ours.
I pray that somehow we can be “above the line” with Jesus.
That doesn’t mean we won’t each hold our own ideas and views on the issues of the day. It doesn’t even mean that our faith won’t shape the way we think about these things. It certainly doesn’t mean that we won’t disagree. Undoubtedly, we will.
It does mean, however, that no matter how much you and I disagree on an issue, we’ll never disagree on our collective need for a savior. We’ll never disagree that we both believe in Jesus. We’ll never disagree that we are called to love and serve both God and neighbor. We’ll first look to our own “lumber,” and invite other folks to join us on the journey.
We can do this. We have to. That Mall full of people is waiting…and looking. I believe that might just give them something to find “above” that ugly line.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Well kids, school is almost back in once more. Douglas Co. Schools open on August 14th, and Adam will be preaching a three-part series starting this Sunday called, “Back to School” at 8:30 and 10:00 each Sunday.
August 6th: “Rule #1: Sit Down and Listen”
August 13th: “Rule #2: Be Nice to the Lunchlady”
August 20th: “Rule #3: Get Up, Clean Up, and Show Up”
The week that school starts back, we’ll have our community supper together, Wednesday night, August 16th at the church.
Nothing, I hope, but we all know better.
Rev. Gregory Boyd, pastor of Woodland Hills Church outside St. Paul, Minnesota, knows better, too, and has had some recent first-hand experience.
In a 6-part sermon series called, “The Cross and The Sword,” he challenged his congregation not to confuse patriotism and faith in Jesus Christ. He asserted that too often, the church has allowed itself to become a pawn for politicians.
“America wasn’t founded as a theocracy,” he said. “America was founded by people trying to escape theocracies. Never in history have we had a Christian theocracy where it wasn’t bloody and barbaric. That’s why our Constitution wisely put in a separation of church and state.
“I am sorry to tell you,” he continued, “that America is not the light of the world and the hope of the world. The light of the world and the hope of the world is Jesus Christ.”
…And 1,000 of his 5,000 church members left.
Recently, the NY Times wrote an article about the Woodland Hills congregation and the fracture that’s taken place. I hope you can take a few moments to read it. It’s very thought-provoking, and definitely worth your time.
How can the declaration that, “the light of the world and the hope of the world is Jesus Christ,” drive 1,000 people away from their church?
The answer is part of a mystifying and deeply intriguing part of Christian life in America, circa 2006.
You see, there is a line.
Draw it out, horizontally across the world. Find your place on it, dig in, and defend.
That’s what Christianity is all about, right? I’m sure I remember Jesus saying something like, “the most important thing is being right, knowing you’re right, and defending your position from all of those who are wrong.”
Yeah, …he didn’t say that.
In his book, A New Kind of Christian, author and pastor Brian McLaren says that modern Christianity has inherent tendency toward placing everyone on a “line” of politics and conviction, somewhere from right (conservative) to left (liberal).
The point, then, too often becomes that of convincing the folks on other parts of “the line” to move over toward our ways of thinking, or to find other people out there who can “convert” to our side.
You see, Jesus stands on our part of the line ---- right?
Jesus wasn’t much for “lines,” as far as I can tell.
He wasn’t much for being used: by his disciples, by the religious establishment, by those who would make him “king,” or by those who would gain personal power by standing beside him.
In his book, McLaren suggests that perhaps there is a place “above the line.” Maybe Jesus stands there, and invites us to join him.
Here’s what I mean: take the most “hot button” issues of our day, and see where we at SOTH fall on the line.
Many of us fall to the right. Many of us fall to the left. Many of us are in the middle, and fall differently on different issues.
Where would Jesus fall? What would he say about the issues of our day?
Based on all that Jesus tells us in the Gospels, my imagination says he might say something like this:
“You have heard it said that fill in the blank is wrong. I say that any of you who hate your brother or sister have more than filled in the blank already.”
Above the line.
“Jesus,” they asked him, “what about the commandments, conflict, divorce, murder, adultery, retaliation?” “How can we justify our place on ‘the line?’”
“The line,” he says, “runs through your own heart. Look to yourself and the lumber in your own life before you pick someone else’s splinters” (Clearly, my paraphrase).
There are some big old behemoth churches out there in the world, packed every Sunday, that make their living by defending the line. It feels good there, for those who belong, and a good dose of red, white and blue every July just makes things feel even better.
No doubt, things may look good right now, but I’m afraid their “going out of business” banners may be at the print shop already.
There are 100, maybe 1000 times more people at Arbor Place Mall (a Douglasville landmark, for you out-of-towners reading along) each week than enter the doors of our churches.
Those folks, are much more likely to be looking for love, peace, reconciliation, community and relationship than someone who will tell them where they ought to stand on “the line.”
They don’t think right, or look right or act right enough to find a home in many houses of God. I pray with all I am that they can always find a place in ours.
I pray that somehow we can be “above the line” with Jesus.
That doesn’t mean we won’t each hold our own ideas and views on the issues of the day. It doesn’t even mean that our faith won’t shape the way we think about these things. It certainly doesn’t mean that we won’t disagree. Undoubtedly, we will.
It does mean, however, that no matter how much you and I disagree on an issue, we’ll never disagree on our collective need for a savior. We’ll never disagree that we both believe in Jesus. We’ll never disagree that we are called to love and serve both God and neighbor. We’ll first look to our own “lumber,” and invite other folks to join us on the journey.
We can do this. We have to. That Mall full of people is waiting…and looking. I believe that might just give them something to find “above” that ugly line.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Well kids, school is almost back in once more. Douglas Co. Schools open on August 14th, and Adam will be preaching a three-part series starting this Sunday called, “Back to School” at 8:30 and 10:00 each Sunday.
August 6th: “Rule #1: Sit Down and Listen”
August 13th: “Rule #2: Be Nice to the Lunchlady”
August 20th: “Rule #3: Get Up, Clean Up, and Show Up”
The week that school starts back, we’ll have our community supper together, Wednesday night, August 16th at the church.
Jul 26, 2006
Roll
Under cover of darkness, they surrounded my home, sliding just past the locked windows and doors that gave a false but reassuring sense of safety to my family and me.
Our canine sentry was on vacation, visiting her maternal grandparents in Knoxville, so no barking alarm alerted us to their menacing presence.
Slowly, silently, they crept with determination in pursuit of their dark craft. The next morning when we awoke, my six year-old son told me to come out front and “see the summer miracle!”
Toilet paper. Lots of it. In the trees. On the shrubs. Up the gutters. Over the rooftops. Encasing the mailbox (hey, I think that’s a federal offense, isn’t it?).
We got “rolled.”
Oh yeah, we got rolled good.
Immediately, I knew the names and addresses of the wayward, back-slidden, children of God who had committed these atrocities.
Sure, their names sound innocent enough, that’s part of their operation. Nobody would think that people with such sweet names as “Timmy,” “Amber,” “Kasey,” or “Valerie” could be capable of such depravity. You’d be thinking wrong.
The hot pink sign left cradled on our doorstep said it all. “IN YOUR FACE!” followed, of course, by “We love you!”
“In your face?” Where could the youth of our church learn such vile verbage?
Oh yeah. That would be me. Their pastor.
See, here’s how it happened: Sunday night’s youth group meeting ended with the ubiquitous playing of youth group games. On this night, one partner had to flick M&M’s from a spoon, across the parking lot to their partner who caught them in his or her mouth.
SOTH Youth Director Cindi Bartlett and I took ‘em to school. That’s right, the old folks beat the young folks. Not that I’m competitive or anything, but I think when old folks beat young folks, something needs to be said.
Something, maybe, like…“IN YOUR FACE!”
Only, I didn’t just say, “in your face.” I sort of yelled it. And, there might have been some pointing, and some high-fiving, and perhaps some old preacher-man sort of really, really wrong kind of booty shaking. Look, it’s not pretty, I’m just trying to bare my soul here.
If you’ve seen the Spongebob Squarepants Movie, you know the kind of “IN YOUR FACE” I’m talking about. That scene was the inspiration for my message to our impressionable youth.
Then, they rolled my house.
Only here’s the thing. They didn’t just roll it, they post-it noted us, too.
Yep. 578 Post-It notes, each bearing the hand-written inscription of “In Your Face” were attached to our ol’ Jeep Cherokee, which was parked in the drive.
Note to self: park in the garage when you plan to taunt the children.
Now, the point of this week’s blog…
What kind of person writes 578 post-it notes and attaches them to a vehicle?
Well, there are probably lots of adjectives that you could think of to describe such an individual, but I want to offer the most charitable possibility.
Committed. Deeply, deeply committed.
I’m pretty sure I would have gotten tired at about 47.
Nope. 578.
5 – 7 – 8. For me, that’s right up there with Hank Aaron’s 755.
I took the opportunity to break pastoral on the kids. “You know,” I said, “with that kind of commitment level, I’m 100% sure that each of you can expect straight A’s this year, right?”
I know how to bring down a good party, huh?
I was impressed with their enthusiasm, their playfulness, their energy, their passion and commitment. I am proud of the great bunch of teenagers that we’ve got at SOTH. I think, if something’s worth doing once, it’s worth doing 578 times.
Or something like that.
The next morning when they all came back to clean up their fun, Holly and I lured them into a pocket of our front yard to carefully “inspect” some of the damage they had done.
Then we turned the water hose on ‘em and soaked ‘em all good.
Know what we said?
IN YOUR FACE!
This lesson in commitment, discipline, maturity and endurance brought to you by the youth of America, and the people of Shepherd of the Hills.
….When does school start back?
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
It’s been a great summer at SOTH, and we’re gearing up for an outstanding fall. Projects in the pipeline at the moment include: re-design of all our communication tools, including our church website; development of small group ministry for fall; September sermon series, “Under Pressure” that will address real-life issues and the answers that faith in Jesus can provide.
The last two weeks have seen great efforts by too many volunteers to count in our Vacation Bible School and our Bill Clary “More Than Magic” Show. Both events were outstanding successes, and many thanks to all of you who participated.
Our Lifeover Classic and Custom Car Show was rescheduled from this past weekend due to inclement weather, and will be held in September.
August 20th will see SOTH’s first-ever “Membership Sunday” celebration in worship. All 24 adults and 11 children who have joined SOTH this year will be invited to attend a celebration lunch together after worship, and we will invite all others who are considering membership to make the commitment on that special day.
Jul 12, 2006
Community
Is it just me, or is everything getting smaller…and bigger…all at the same time?
Here’s what I mean: I just got a new cell phone that is so thin it would have to “jump around in the shower to get wet,” as the old saying goes.
The advantage?
It’s much, much easier to lose.
That, plus the battery doesn’t work, so I’m back to using my old one until a new battery arrives. But, I digress, as preachers often do.
Some things in our world are getting bigger…lots bigger.
For instance, if you live in a developing area (and few are developing more rapidly than Douglasville, GA), take a few minutes and drive through some of the new subdivisions that are going up around your community.
American houses are getting big. Real big.
Last week, I read a great article on the subject of the “ever-expanding American dream house.”
The average size of a new home built in America last year is 2,414 square feet. In 1950, that number was 983 square feet. In the course of my lifetime, average new home size has increased by nearly 1000 square feet.
No wonder the closet in the master bath of the house we bought last year (which is very nice, don’t get me wrong, but probably just about middle-of-the-road for our community) is bigger than the bedrooms I grew up in.
So, what’s behind the “big house” phenomenon?
While nobody knows for sure, there are definitely several contributing factors. It’s fascinating to listen to the speculation.
Architect Ann Suchin was quoted in the article, saying, “You know, we are very tenuous. Nobody knows when the next 9/11 will happen. These houses represent safety -- and the bigger the house, the bigger the fortress.”
Even more interesting, however, were the thoughts of Jacqui Lofaro, a member of the planning and development board of Bridgehampton, New York. "If you have people coming out from the city, where they are bombarded by people, the tendency is to isolate themselves," she says. "Their house is their community. It is not the community's community, it is their community."
As a Pastor, “community” is my stock and trade, so her words really got my attention. Could it be that we Americans are rounding the bend of a cultural turning point?
Is it possible that we’ve given up on the idea of “life together,” in favor of “my life, in my house?”
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think our generation is doing anything that other generations wouldn’t have done if the circumstances, economics and reality of their world would have allowed them.
Being together is hard work. And now that the American economy has grown to the point that even middle-class Americans can afford houses that are bigger than we need, why not?
Michael Frisby, local “big house” owner also interviewed in the article said, “"I think everybody has their individual wants. This is my dream. And let's face it: In America, in this day and age, many of us have gotten to the point where we can do this."
He also says that even though he used to be “the party guy,” life in his big house is so good that now there’s, “no reason to go out.”
Let’s take a second and let that one settle…
Holy Cow.
If I may, please allow me to advance a few crazy ideas:
Your house is not, and cannot be your community.
Life lived inside a “fortress” is not really life lived at all.
Too many square feet puts too much space, both literal and metaphorical, between you, your spouse and your kids.
We’re not as powerful economically as we think we are, and many American “big houses” are built on the foundations of crazy mortgage schemes that will soon come home to roost.
Our misplaced, “fortress” priorities bring undue financial stress to families and communities.
Eventually, smoke and mirrors always fail, and that’s when real community is needed. For an amazing example of this cycle, read the saga of the Cruz Family, winners of last year’s HGTV “Dream Home.”
So, what are we to do?
A well-known “preacher story” says that an old-time, country Reverend went out deep in the woods one winter morning to visit “John,” who was given to being absent from the congregation for long periods of time.
“John,” the preacher said, “we miss you at the church, and you need to come out and be a part of us.”
John stiffened his back, felt his growing resolve, and said, “Preacher, I’ve told you before that I don’t need to sit in church with a bunch of hypocrites to meet God. I can worship right here in this house, right here in these woods.”
The Old Preacher said nothing, but moved close to the heat and light of John’s roaring fireplace.
Slowly, he took the shovel from the hearth and placed a single, glowing coal on its rough brick surface.
“I guess you’re right, John,” he said. “You don’t need your church, and that coal on your hearth doesn’t need that fireplace, either.”
As the old Preacher left and went on his way, John watched that single coal fade from brightly burning to cold and gray…alone.
John was in church on Sunday.
“Community” inside our own “big houses” is a mirage, and it's sure to fail. Like all the things that look good at first, and feel good for a while, eventually the experience and comfort will fade, and we’ll go looking for bigger and better to quiet the restlessness within us.
We need God.
God loves a party, and he made us so that we need each other, too.
Somehow we see God a little better when “two or three are gathered” than when we seek him on our own.
SOTH may not be much on square footage, but I promise we’ve got a “big house” of heart, with room inside for everybody. That’s the call of the gospel, and our mission for the world.
Find yourself a fireplace, and burn brightly…together.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
This is FIESTA Vacation Bible School week at Shepherd of the Hills. We’ve had nearly 100 kids (2 yrs old to 5th grade) enroll in our Bible School, and many, many volunteer leaders and youth helpers involved as well. Many thanks to our children’s director, Kathryn Beasley, for her great work, and to all our volunteers who have made VBS a real success.
This Sunday, our kids from VBS will present their program at our 10:00 worship service, followed by a cookout and dessert auction sponsored by our United Methodist Men. Our regular 8:30 worship service will also be offered this Sunday.
SOTH member and world-renowned magician and entertainer Bill Clary will be performing two fundraiser shows at SOTH on the evening of July 22. There will be a ticket rally at the church on July 8th with volunteers available from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m. to sell tickets and talk to the community about the show. All proceeds will support our “Communications Team” in their efforts and work with Details Communications.
Details is an outstanding church outreach and marketing company that SOTH will be partnered with over the next several months. Look for a complete re-design of our logo, website, newsletter, bulletin, and maybe even the “soth blog!” Details will do a wonderful job helping SOTH articulate our identity and mission to the community.
Also on July 22, Lifeover Ministries, a mission and outreach team from SOTH will host a classic and custom car show in the Douglasville First UMC parking lot. All funds raised will support Lifeover’s work with our rapidly growing “kids’ closet,” where kids and families in need can come and find free, quality clothing for their youngsters. Thanks to DFUMC for their partnership with us in this great ministry!
SOTHBLOG NOTES: No entry next Wednesday, July 19th as Adam and family will be on vacation! Whoo-hooo!!
Here’s what I mean: I just got a new cell phone that is so thin it would have to “jump around in the shower to get wet,” as the old saying goes.
The advantage?
It’s much, much easier to lose.
That, plus the battery doesn’t work, so I’m back to using my old one until a new battery arrives. But, I digress, as preachers often do.
Some things in our world are getting bigger…lots bigger.
For instance, if you live in a developing area (and few are developing more rapidly than Douglasville, GA), take a few minutes and drive through some of the new subdivisions that are going up around your community.
American houses are getting big. Real big.
Last week, I read a great article on the subject of the “ever-expanding American dream house.”
The average size of a new home built in America last year is 2,414 square feet. In 1950, that number was 983 square feet. In the course of my lifetime, average new home size has increased by nearly 1000 square feet.
No wonder the closet in the master bath of the house we bought last year (which is very nice, don’t get me wrong, but probably just about middle-of-the-road for our community) is bigger than the bedrooms I grew up in.
So, what’s behind the “big house” phenomenon?
While nobody knows for sure, there are definitely several contributing factors. It’s fascinating to listen to the speculation.
Architect Ann Suchin was quoted in the article, saying, “You know, we are very tenuous. Nobody knows when the next 9/11 will happen. These houses represent safety -- and the bigger the house, the bigger the fortress.”
Even more interesting, however, were the thoughts of Jacqui Lofaro, a member of the planning and development board of Bridgehampton, New York. "If you have people coming out from the city, where they are bombarded by people, the tendency is to isolate themselves," she says. "Their house is their community. It is not the community's community, it is their community."
As a Pastor, “community” is my stock and trade, so her words really got my attention. Could it be that we Americans are rounding the bend of a cultural turning point?
Is it possible that we’ve given up on the idea of “life together,” in favor of “my life, in my house?”
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think our generation is doing anything that other generations wouldn’t have done if the circumstances, economics and reality of their world would have allowed them.
Being together is hard work. And now that the American economy has grown to the point that even middle-class Americans can afford houses that are bigger than we need, why not?
Michael Frisby, local “big house” owner also interviewed in the article said, “"I think everybody has their individual wants. This is my dream. And let's face it: In America, in this day and age, many of us have gotten to the point where we can do this."
He also says that even though he used to be “the party guy,” life in his big house is so good that now there’s, “no reason to go out.”
Let’s take a second and let that one settle…
Holy Cow.
If I may, please allow me to advance a few crazy ideas:
Your house is not, and cannot be your community.
Life lived inside a “fortress” is not really life lived at all.
Too many square feet puts too much space, both literal and metaphorical, between you, your spouse and your kids.
We’re not as powerful economically as we think we are, and many American “big houses” are built on the foundations of crazy mortgage schemes that will soon come home to roost.
Our misplaced, “fortress” priorities bring undue financial stress to families and communities.
Eventually, smoke and mirrors always fail, and that’s when real community is needed. For an amazing example of this cycle, read the saga of the Cruz Family, winners of last year’s HGTV “Dream Home.”
So, what are we to do?
A well-known “preacher story” says that an old-time, country Reverend went out deep in the woods one winter morning to visit “John,” who was given to being absent from the congregation for long periods of time.
“John,” the preacher said, “we miss you at the church, and you need to come out and be a part of us.”
John stiffened his back, felt his growing resolve, and said, “Preacher, I’ve told you before that I don’t need to sit in church with a bunch of hypocrites to meet God. I can worship right here in this house, right here in these woods.”
The Old Preacher said nothing, but moved close to the heat and light of John’s roaring fireplace.
Slowly, he took the shovel from the hearth and placed a single, glowing coal on its rough brick surface.
“I guess you’re right, John,” he said. “You don’t need your church, and that coal on your hearth doesn’t need that fireplace, either.”
As the old Preacher left and went on his way, John watched that single coal fade from brightly burning to cold and gray…alone.
John was in church on Sunday.
“Community” inside our own “big houses” is a mirage, and it's sure to fail. Like all the things that look good at first, and feel good for a while, eventually the experience and comfort will fade, and we’ll go looking for bigger and better to quiet the restlessness within us.
We need God.
God loves a party, and he made us so that we need each other, too.
Somehow we see God a little better when “two or three are gathered” than when we seek him on our own.
SOTH may not be much on square footage, but I promise we’ve got a “big house” of heart, with room inside for everybody. That’s the call of the gospel, and our mission for the world.
Find yourself a fireplace, and burn brightly…together.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
This is FIESTA Vacation Bible School week at Shepherd of the Hills. We’ve had nearly 100 kids (2 yrs old to 5th grade) enroll in our Bible School, and many, many volunteer leaders and youth helpers involved as well. Many thanks to our children’s director, Kathryn Beasley, for her great work, and to all our volunteers who have made VBS a real success.
This Sunday, our kids from VBS will present their program at our 10:00 worship service, followed by a cookout and dessert auction sponsored by our United Methodist Men. Our regular 8:30 worship service will also be offered this Sunday.
SOTH member and world-renowned magician and entertainer Bill Clary will be performing two fundraiser shows at SOTH on the evening of July 22. There will be a ticket rally at the church on July 8th with volunteers available from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m. to sell tickets and talk to the community about the show. All proceeds will support our “Communications Team” in their efforts and work with Details Communications.
Details is an outstanding church outreach and marketing company that SOTH will be partnered with over the next several months. Look for a complete re-design of our logo, website, newsletter, bulletin, and maybe even the “soth blog!” Details will do a wonderful job helping SOTH articulate our identity and mission to the community.
Also on July 22, Lifeover Ministries, a mission and outreach team from SOTH will host a classic and custom car show in the Douglasville First UMC parking lot. All funds raised will support Lifeover’s work with our rapidly growing “kids’ closet,” where kids and families in need can come and find free, quality clothing for their youngsters. Thanks to DFUMC for their partnership with us in this great ministry!
SOTHBLOG NOTES: No entry next Wednesday, July 19th as Adam and family will be on vacation! Whoo-hooo!!
Jun 28, 2006
Strain
“There were so many fewer questions when stars were still just the holes to heaven.” Jack Johnson
“I do not believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.” Galileo Galilei
“…This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind…” The Apostle Paul, from Philippians 3:13-15
It’s hard, this work of not looking back.
There’s a reason we call them the “good old days,” after all.
Selective memory is an amazing thing. We forget that there weren’t dishwashers, microwaves and air conditioners…back in the good old days. There weren’t 1000 other conveniences that we take for granted today.
Undoubtedly, a lot of bad things do exist now that didn’t exist “back then.” But still, it’s amazing to witness our human propensity for looking back through time with a misty, rose-colored lens.
I’m always fascinated to hear my grandparents fondly reminisce about the days they spent picking cotton in the 100+ degree heat and humidity of West Tennessee. They would eat cold biscuits and beans for lunch, and at the end of the day, get paid a few cents for every pound of cotton they had picked. A mighty and gifted cotton-picker might pick 200 pounds on a great day. Translation: hardest work you could ever do from sun up to sundown = $5.00. Maybe.
Good times, good times.
Educational opportunities were largely non-existent. Social problems like poverty and alcoholism were rampant. Illiteracy was common. Racism was an assumption and segregation was the law.
Remind me again…which was the “good” part of the good old days?
I think I know. When I listen closely to the stories, and pay real attention in those treasured moments when the verbal goldmine of my family history comes down the generations to my ears, some common themes emerge.
Family. Relationships. Simplicity.
There is truth in that remembrance. I do believe that hard work is good for a person (and that preachers don’t do enough of it). I believe that families were closer because they lived together, worked together, and saw each other every day. I’ve also got to believe that meant they fought like cats and dogs.
True, folks spent time on their front porches at the end of long summer days. And they still hated to see certain neighbors heading over to those porches, just like they do today. It just wasn’t all fresh-squeezed-lemonade-Waltons-Americana.
Please understand, there’s not a thing in the world wrong with honoring what was good in the past.
We just can’t live in it. And sometimes, that’s hard for all of us.
It’s especially hard when we face a big future, wide-open and full of possibility. Even the biggest dreamers and visionaries can’t guarantee what comes next, but all of us can look back and remember their own, best version of the past with certainty.
Believing in God, and following Jesus, means moving forward.
From the very beginning, God just hasn’t wanted his people spending much of their time with necks craned backward. Just ask Lot’s wife.
There was a time when life was simpler. The stars were just holes to heaven, and nobody asked too many questions.
We don’t live there anymore, and even with all its problems, when we’re honest, I think we know that life is better today than it was yesterday. Christian faith says that life tomorrow will be better still.
We can’t prove it, but we believe it, and we’re called to live it.
The same God that created all that exists, creates our tomorrow. He was and is at the outer reaches of our expanding (or contracting) universe, and his eye “is on the sparrow,” tiny and insignificant though it is.
Whatever you’re waiting on…stop waiting.
Move. Step. Strain. Press.
“Let us be of the same mind.”
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
It’s almost time for Vacation Bible School at SOTH! Bunches and bunches of kids from our community will take part, and we always need more volunteer help. VBS will be held July 10th through 14th, 9 a.m. till noon, for kids 2 years-old through fifth grade. Call the SOTH office at 770-920-1551 or e-mail Children’s Director Kathryn Beasley at Kathryn@sothumc.net
SOTH member and world-renowned magician and entertainer Bill Clary will be performing two fundraiser shows at SOTH on the evening of July 22. There will be a ticket rally at the church on July 8th with volunteers available from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m. to sell tickets and talk to the community about the show. All proceeds will support our “Communications Team” in their efforts and work with Details Communications.
Details is an outstanding church outreach and marketing company that SOTH will be partnered with over the next several months. Look for a complete re-design of our logo, website, newsletter, bulletin, and maybe even the “soth blog!” Details will do a wonderful job helping SOTH articulate our identity and mission to the community.
Also on July 22, Lifeover Ministries, a mission and outreach team from SOTH will host a classic and custom car show in the Douglasville First UMC parking lot. All funds raised will support Lifeover’s work with our rapidly growing “kids’ closet,” where kids and families in need can come and find free, quality clothing for their youngsters. Thanks to DFUMC for their partnership with us in this great ministry!
SOTH LAND UPDATE: D.S. Jacqui Rose-Tucker conducted our church conference this Sunday, and SOTH members voted to sell the entirety of our current property at the corner of Chapel Hill and Dorsett Shoals Rds. This decision will enable us to acquire new property in the community, build larger buildings for ministry and relieve our current debt level. The future is wide open, and we ask for your prayers as SOTH steps forward in faith!
“I do not believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.” Galileo Galilei
“…This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind…” The Apostle Paul, from Philippians 3:13-15
It’s hard, this work of not looking back.
There’s a reason we call them the “good old days,” after all.
Selective memory is an amazing thing. We forget that there weren’t dishwashers, microwaves and air conditioners…back in the good old days. There weren’t 1000 other conveniences that we take for granted today.
Undoubtedly, a lot of bad things do exist now that didn’t exist “back then.” But still, it’s amazing to witness our human propensity for looking back through time with a misty, rose-colored lens.
I’m always fascinated to hear my grandparents fondly reminisce about the days they spent picking cotton in the 100+ degree heat and humidity of West Tennessee. They would eat cold biscuits and beans for lunch, and at the end of the day, get paid a few cents for every pound of cotton they had picked. A mighty and gifted cotton-picker might pick 200 pounds on a great day. Translation: hardest work you could ever do from sun up to sundown = $5.00. Maybe.
Good times, good times.
Educational opportunities were largely non-existent. Social problems like poverty and alcoholism were rampant. Illiteracy was common. Racism was an assumption and segregation was the law.
Remind me again…which was the “good” part of the good old days?
I think I know. When I listen closely to the stories, and pay real attention in those treasured moments when the verbal goldmine of my family history comes down the generations to my ears, some common themes emerge.
Family. Relationships. Simplicity.
There is truth in that remembrance. I do believe that hard work is good for a person (and that preachers don’t do enough of it). I believe that families were closer because they lived together, worked together, and saw each other every day. I’ve also got to believe that meant they fought like cats and dogs.
True, folks spent time on their front porches at the end of long summer days. And they still hated to see certain neighbors heading over to those porches, just like they do today. It just wasn’t all fresh-squeezed-lemonade-Waltons-Americana.
Please understand, there’s not a thing in the world wrong with honoring what was good in the past.
We just can’t live in it. And sometimes, that’s hard for all of us.
It’s especially hard when we face a big future, wide-open and full of possibility. Even the biggest dreamers and visionaries can’t guarantee what comes next, but all of us can look back and remember their own, best version of the past with certainty.
Believing in God, and following Jesus, means moving forward.
From the very beginning, God just hasn’t wanted his people spending much of their time with necks craned backward. Just ask Lot’s wife.
There was a time when life was simpler. The stars were just holes to heaven, and nobody asked too many questions.
We don’t live there anymore, and even with all its problems, when we’re honest, I think we know that life is better today than it was yesterday. Christian faith says that life tomorrow will be better still.
We can’t prove it, but we believe it, and we’re called to live it.
The same God that created all that exists, creates our tomorrow. He was and is at the outer reaches of our expanding (or contracting) universe, and his eye “is on the sparrow,” tiny and insignificant though it is.
Whatever you’re waiting on…stop waiting.
Move. Step. Strain. Press.
“Let us be of the same mind.”
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
It’s almost time for Vacation Bible School at SOTH! Bunches and bunches of kids from our community will take part, and we always need more volunteer help. VBS will be held July 10th through 14th, 9 a.m. till noon, for kids 2 years-old through fifth grade. Call the SOTH office at 770-920-1551 or e-mail Children’s Director Kathryn Beasley at Kathryn@sothumc.net
SOTH member and world-renowned magician and entertainer Bill Clary will be performing two fundraiser shows at SOTH on the evening of July 22. There will be a ticket rally at the church on July 8th with volunteers available from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m. to sell tickets and talk to the community about the show. All proceeds will support our “Communications Team” in their efforts and work with Details Communications.
Details is an outstanding church outreach and marketing company that SOTH will be partnered with over the next several months. Look for a complete re-design of our logo, website, newsletter, bulletin, and maybe even the “soth blog!” Details will do a wonderful job helping SOTH articulate our identity and mission to the community.
Also on July 22, Lifeover Ministries, a mission and outreach team from SOTH will host a classic and custom car show in the Douglasville First UMC parking lot. All funds raised will support Lifeover’s work with our rapidly growing “kids’ closet,” where kids and families in need can come and find free, quality clothing for their youngsters. Thanks to DFUMC for their partnership with us in this great ministry!
SOTH LAND UPDATE: D.S. Jacqui Rose-Tucker conducted our church conference this Sunday, and SOTH members voted to sell the entirety of our current property at the corner of Chapel Hill and Dorsett Shoals Rds. This decision will enable us to acquire new property in the community, build larger buildings for ministry and relieve our current debt level. The future is wide open, and we ask for your prayers as SOTH steps forward in faith!
Jun 22, 2006
Root
I love grass.
I really do.
Just the names cause a ripple of gardening excitement for me.
Zoysia. Centipede. Bermuda. Fescue. Kentucky Bluegrass. Winter Rye. Buffalo.
There’s a lot we could learn from the humble green stuff we walk over every day.
We could learn a lot about irony. Most of the people in the world (Central and South America, Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe in particular) would watch in shocked astonishment as we Americans work so hard at watering, fertilizing and weeding the thick patches of “weeds” that surround our homes.
Ask them, and they’ll tell you, “grass just grows.” Now, where’s the fun in that? I mean, come on, the fun is in the tinkering.
But if you’ve got a Bermuda lawn, as the majority of us do in North Georgia, you know that there’s truth in the statement.
Bermuda grass can teach us lessons about tenacity. It has an amazing ability to “just grow.“ After all, there’s a reason people in other parts of the world call it, “devil’s grass."
In the right place, it forms a beautiful lawn where the kids can play and sunny, summer afternoons can be passed in comfort. It controls erosion, slows runoff, “breathes” oxygen back into our air, absorbs the heat of the sun and just generally has the capacity to make our little corner of the planet greener, and much more pleasant.
But have you ever tried to keep it out of your flower beds?
Good luck.
Bermuda is amazing, and a plant we should learn from, because it has a mighty arsenal of growth and propagation tools at its disposal. Its roots run deep, and in times of drought, they run even deeper. It can “hibernate,” surviving drought by slowing to a marginal creep, then kicking back to full gear when the rains come.
Bermuda sends its offspring into the world by seed (which germinates easily, even in bad soil), and by runners over the ground. No doubt, you’ve seen bermuda yards that need attention, and noticed how long fingers of grass can reach across sidewalks or other concrete expanses until they find fertile soil on the other side.
But that’s not all bermuda can do. Its most stunning, and successful attribute is its ability to generate new life directly from its roots. “Rhizomes” make bermuda grass stealthy, hiding out when you think you’ve contained it, only to pop up in the far corner of a formerly safe, pristine garden real estate.
That’s what makes it so frustrating, and so cool. You never know what it’s doing underground, but you can bet it’s probably doing something.
That’s a great picture of what a Christian church is supposed to be. Throughout history, and in parts of our world today, the church has been and continues to be most healthy where it grows underground. Somehow, roots grow deeper when they have to.
We need drought-worthy root systems of our own. Our lives will not be green and full of life every single day. Sometimes, when the heat scorches and growth slows, we can be tempted to believe that there’s a problem with our faith. We think that if we only believed hard enough, long enough, or loved God deeply enough, we’d never experience such moments of difficulty or doubt.
Please know, that’s just not what the Bible tells us. I don’t know of a single story in scripture, from start to finish, where the characters have just gone “walking on sunshine” each and every day.
Isn’t that great?
I think it is.
It’s great because it makes scripture real, and it reminds us that people of faith have a whole lot more in common with tough, tenacious bermuda than fancy, finicky greenhouse plants that can’t last two days in the real world of sun and heat.
Christians need roots. Here’s how John Wesley said you can find them: pray, read scripture, worship, take communion, fast, live in community, participate in ministries to the poor, the sick and the imprisoned, work for justice and peace in our world.
If God is hidden from you today, these “rhizomes” of faith have the power to cause his presence to “pop up” in some corner of your life where you least expected to find him.
Give it a shot. Your faith is tougher than you think. And God is closer.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Don’t forget that our worship this Sunday will be very special and includes an important time of decision-making in the life of our church. Rome-Carrollton District Superintendent, Jacqui Rose-Tucker will be present to preach, and to lead us through the process of congregational vote on Church Council’s resolution to sell our current church property and re-location within the community. One worship service only, at 10:00 a.m. this Sunday.
Thanks to Baby Noor’s foster family, and to Childspring International for making her presence possible at SOTH last night! It was wonderful to have Noor at our Wednesday night meal, and for our congregation to meet her face-to-face. She is doing incredibly well, and we give thanks to God for all he has done in her life, and all the ways that she has impacted our congregation.
I really do.
Just the names cause a ripple of gardening excitement for me.
Zoysia. Centipede. Bermuda. Fescue. Kentucky Bluegrass. Winter Rye. Buffalo.
There’s a lot we could learn from the humble green stuff we walk over every day.
We could learn a lot about irony. Most of the people in the world (Central and South America, Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe in particular) would watch in shocked astonishment as we Americans work so hard at watering, fertilizing and weeding the thick patches of “weeds” that surround our homes.
Ask them, and they’ll tell you, “grass just grows.” Now, where’s the fun in that? I mean, come on, the fun is in the tinkering.
But if you’ve got a Bermuda lawn, as the majority of us do in North Georgia, you know that there’s truth in the statement.
Bermuda grass can teach us lessons about tenacity. It has an amazing ability to “just grow.“ After all, there’s a reason people in other parts of the world call it, “devil’s grass."
In the right place, it forms a beautiful lawn where the kids can play and sunny, summer afternoons can be passed in comfort. It controls erosion, slows runoff, “breathes” oxygen back into our air, absorbs the heat of the sun and just generally has the capacity to make our little corner of the planet greener, and much more pleasant.
But have you ever tried to keep it out of your flower beds?
Good luck.
Bermuda is amazing, and a plant we should learn from, because it has a mighty arsenal of growth and propagation tools at its disposal. Its roots run deep, and in times of drought, they run even deeper. It can “hibernate,” surviving drought by slowing to a marginal creep, then kicking back to full gear when the rains come.
Bermuda sends its offspring into the world by seed (which germinates easily, even in bad soil), and by runners over the ground. No doubt, you’ve seen bermuda yards that need attention, and noticed how long fingers of grass can reach across sidewalks or other concrete expanses until they find fertile soil on the other side.
But that’s not all bermuda can do. Its most stunning, and successful attribute is its ability to generate new life directly from its roots. “Rhizomes” make bermuda grass stealthy, hiding out when you think you’ve contained it, only to pop up in the far corner of a formerly safe, pristine garden real estate.
That’s what makes it so frustrating, and so cool. You never know what it’s doing underground, but you can bet it’s probably doing something.
That’s a great picture of what a Christian church is supposed to be. Throughout history, and in parts of our world today, the church has been and continues to be most healthy where it grows underground. Somehow, roots grow deeper when they have to.
We need drought-worthy root systems of our own. Our lives will not be green and full of life every single day. Sometimes, when the heat scorches and growth slows, we can be tempted to believe that there’s a problem with our faith. We think that if we only believed hard enough, long enough, or loved God deeply enough, we’d never experience such moments of difficulty or doubt.
Please know, that’s just not what the Bible tells us. I don’t know of a single story in scripture, from start to finish, where the characters have just gone “walking on sunshine” each and every day.
Isn’t that great?
I think it is.
It’s great because it makes scripture real, and it reminds us that people of faith have a whole lot more in common with tough, tenacious bermuda than fancy, finicky greenhouse plants that can’t last two days in the real world of sun and heat.
Christians need roots. Here’s how John Wesley said you can find them: pray, read scripture, worship, take communion, fast, live in community, participate in ministries to the poor, the sick and the imprisoned, work for justice and peace in our world.
If God is hidden from you today, these “rhizomes” of faith have the power to cause his presence to “pop up” in some corner of your life where you least expected to find him.
Give it a shot. Your faith is tougher than you think. And God is closer.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Don’t forget that our worship this Sunday will be very special and includes an important time of decision-making in the life of our church. Rome-Carrollton District Superintendent, Jacqui Rose-Tucker will be present to preach, and to lead us through the process of congregational vote on Church Council’s resolution to sell our current church property and re-location within the community. One worship service only, at 10:00 a.m. this Sunday.
Thanks to Baby Noor’s foster family, and to Childspring International for making her presence possible at SOTH last night! It was wonderful to have Noor at our Wednesday night meal, and for our congregation to meet her face-to-face. She is doing incredibly well, and we give thanks to God for all he has done in her life, and all the ways that she has impacted our congregation.
Jun 21, 2006
Pressure (Written 6/7/2006)
OK, disclaimer on this blog. I’ll be going around the world on this one, and you may wonder where we’re coming out, but hang in there, I really do have a method to my madness.
Hopefully.
First, let me just say, because it was an incredibly cool thing, that my family and I (my dad included, coming down from
SOTH member Mara Cleveland used to own and operate a hair salon in Buckhead, and her clientele included Braves’ General Manager John Scheurholz.
Wow.
Bigger wow: After she wrote him a note, he was willing to invite us all to a game, to meet us at the dugout during batting practice, and to introduce us to future Hall of Fame manager, Bobby Cox.
We got to make that trip this past week, and I was more excited than a kid at Christmas, to say the least. Not only did we get to meet these two Braves’ icons, Will also got to meet centerfielder Andruw Jones, and get his autograph. Everyone was incredibly gracious to us, and their hospitality was wonderful. The experience was incredible, and needless to say, a great time was had by all.
It’s always an amazing, and somehow disconcerting experience to meet famous people, especially those you’ve so often seen doing their thing on the tv set in your living room.
In those moments, the “pressure” is on. You don’t want to say or do the wrong thing, you don’t know when or if this opportunity might ever come your way again, and you want to make every second count.
For instance, just think how excited you would be to meet Tim Howard.
You’re excited, right?
Tim Howard….anybody….anybody?
Tim Howard. He’s a goalkeeper for Mancheseter United. Does that help? Probably not. Think
Tim doesn’t just play for
We’re in
But that’s not the case in pretty much the rest of the world. I really enjoyed a segment on
National Public Radio this morning by Frank DeFord, the famous sportswriter. He pointed out that the U.S. World Cup team is ranked 5th this year.
That means the unthinkable could possibly become reality. The
That, says DeFord, gives us a pretty big competitive edge. “A player from any other country,” he says, “making a mistake in the World Cup, may be ruined for the rest of his career.”
Our players can play with no pressure, free and easy, because nobody back home is paying attention. (You can imagine how this endears us to the rest of the soccer-loving world).
See, if I met Tim Howard at the local coffee shop, I don’t think I’d worry that each second of the conversation really needed to count, always and forever more. It’s that very fact that could lead to a good conversation. Good things in life happen when everybody takes a breath, calms down, and turns loose of some of the pressure.
Now, time for some confession. Turning loose of pressure is not my spiritual gift. I tend to wrap pressure around myself like a nice, cozy blanket. Where pressure does not exist, I tend to find ways to create it. I like to think of it as “intensity,” and “purpose,” and “drive,” but let’s get real. High Pressure, whether it’s in life, or the circulatory system, just isn’t what Jesus is looking for in his disciples.
I had a great conversation with a friend this week, and we found ourselves anxious, thinking through all the possibilities and unknowns of life and ministry.
Then, we remembered something Jesus once said:
“Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? 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!”
What would happen if those who believe in Jesus decided to believe that statement? What if we played “free and easy,” because our Father who loves us has promised to pop the pressure bubble forever?
I think we could be a pretty tough team to beat. That’s the church. The coalition of the unworried.
That’s just cool. Almost as cool as meeting Bobby Cox.
OK, it’s even better. Walk in faith. Believe, and be confident. I can promise --- whatever it is, it’s going to be alright.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Please continue to remember SOTH in prayer as we make decisions regarding the future use of our property and our potential re-location in the community. Remember that there will be an informational session for the congregation this Sunday, June 11th, following our 10:00 a.m. worship service.
Church Conference is set for June 25th, with one worship service only -- 10:00 a.m. that Sunday.
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