I really think I remember when this happened.
Some time just after 9/11 (two months after, it turns out), I remember somebody saying, “Hey, I just saw on the news where some guy ran through a security point at Hartsfield. Now nobody’s flying over like half the country.”
Some guy…
“Some guy” was Shane Lasseter from Gainesville, GA. I’m sure he would love that I’m bringing this back up, and that the AJC has decided to bring it up again as well. His tale was again rehearsed this Monday in their “whatever happened to” feature.
Lasseter’s 15 minutes of fame was not the kind you’d want. He had a colossal, public, lapse of good judgment.
The UGA fan (nope, I’m not saying anything) was on his way to see the Bulldogs play at Ole Miss. He never got that far, and more than his weekend was ruined.
Like an old-time O.J. Simson-luggage-hurdling-rent-a-car commercial, Lasseter tore backward down the “up” escalator.
He flew, in reverse, right through a security checkpoint --- all in an effort to retrieve the camera bag he’d left behind. His ticket remained behind in the pocket of a travel bag at the gate. He had pierced the vale of the “secured world” and entered the unclean world of the “unsecured,” all without his ticket.
Not good. At all.
The result? A “code orange” was issues at the incredibly busy Hartsfield International Airport. Flights were grounded at 18 other airports. Dominoes started to fall. Traffic piled up on I-85. Marta was halted at the College Park station. Soldiers evacuated and guarded the terminal.
Was Osama on the loose? Nope. “Some guy” forgot his camera bag.
So, have you ever thought that the actions of one little person ---- say one little person like you or me --- couldn’t really make a difference in the world?
You’d be wrong.
In just a moment’s time, an impulsive decision made worse by adrenaline, hurry and fear turned a community upside-down for an afternoon, impacted thousands and thousands of people, and sent deep currents through the waters of one man’s life.
Ultimately, Shane Lasseter was sentenced to five weekends in jail, 500 hours of community service and a year’s probation. Oh, and he wasn’t allowed back to another UGA game for a year. Not kidding.
He also resigned from his job and had to re-make his life.
Our choices really do matter, both for ourselves and for countless other people in our homes, churches, businesses, communities and world.
Thinking of Hartsfield makes me think of the flights that I’ve taken from there and the times that I’ve returned. The vision of metro Atlanta all lit up at night, with its multiple skylines and seemingly infinite grid of streets and neighborhoods never fails to leave me stunned.
I always think, “there are a LOT of people down there. How can God really know us all? Isn’t it amazing to believe that he does?”
You could almost believe that one person’s little life and choices couldn’t matter in such a sea of humanity.
But we’d be wrong.
As I journey through life in a church, as a pastor, and as a disciple of Jesus Christ, I sometimes venture back toward a poem that leans in its frame against a shelf in my office. It was a gift to me from my parents --- and it continues to mean the world.
The poem speaks of frustration, weariness, and all the times that we might be tempted to resign ourselves over into insignificance.
But the last line says it all:
“A life lived for Jesus really does make a difference.”
Every single day, we are faced with decisions. Change is an inevitable reality --- tomorrow will be different, even if ever so slightly, than today. But God gives us the incredible gift of choice.
That idea is humbling. It can be overwhelming. What if we mess up? What if we forget to follow in His steps? What if we lose our way? What about all that pressure?
Knowing that it matters isn't about pressure...it's about the precious gift of significance. God promises to be with us, to help us, and most of all just wants to "do life" with us...together.
The idea of insignificance is an illusion. Worse yet, it’s a form of self-deception that dishonors God.
Remember that it matters, and that God is always there.
Oh yeah, and don’t run backwards through any security checkpoints. For that matter, I’d try not to run in an airport at all. I’ll see you this Sunday.
Grace & Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
So much is happening in the life of our church! New officers were elected at our Charge Conference on October 15th, and all of our new leadership information will be available for the entire congregation this Sunday. Our 2007 leadership team is strong and skilled, and we ask you to hold each of our leaders in prayer.
Confirmation continues for about a dozen of our youth who will be received into full church membership on Sunday morning, November 19th!
Pumpkins are here! Don’t forget that our pumpkins are here at SOTH and we’re looking forward to a huge weekend of sales. Get them while they last and help support our youth!
Small groups continue to meet each week during our “Get Out of the Boat” fall discipleship emphasis. Special thanks to Tim Potate, Lamar Gilstrap, Derrick Fountain, Sandra Wells and Andrea Vantrees for their outstanding leadership, and to the Clary’s, Potates, Brooks and Bartletts for serving as hosts.
You will be presented with a set of options this Sunday! Our “Out of the Boat” series on committed discipleship is drawing near its close, and this Sunday, everyone present in worship will receive an “Opportunities Card” for 2007. We’re working hard to list all the ways that you can serve at SOTH in the year ahead, and we will be asking for “pledges” of Worship, Prayer, Scripture, Relationships, Service and Giving in 2007. Thanks for the great response that you’ve all made to the challenge of this series, and for your willingness to serve and grow deeper in relationship with Christ.
Oct 25, 2006
Oct 18, 2006
New
Douglas County is growing.
If you live here, you know that’s the understatement of the century. It’s really growing.
The latest demographic data I could find for today shows an anticipated 11% growth rate in the SOTH zip code (30135) over the next 5 years. The national average for that same time period is projected at less than 5%.
Our county is growing.
Rapid growth is a fascinating thing. It’s a particularly American phenomenon. We’re optimistic people, we have room to expand, we have plenty of kids (more than any other industrialized nation), and our houses are big enough to hold large families.
Even so, watching rapid growth in an American small town is a fascinating thing.
In the last community in which Holly and I lived, the growth rate was moving at an even faster rate. Not unlike Douglasville, Evans is a place that has seen awesome transformation. New homes, new schools, new people, new businesses, new government, newcomers.
New.
As a result, I have listened for years to the heartfelt and heart-wrenching words of local people trying to cope with change. As one of the newcomers, I see the bustling growth of subdivisions and clearing for new shopping centers as places of opportunity and possibility. I see property values on the rise, and a great quality of life for more people.
For me, such scenes of “progress” don’t hold any pain --- because I don’t know the stories that have gone before.
When I tell you how to get somewhere in Douglasville, you won’t hear me say, “you know, hang a left where the old Smith place used to be.”
I’m new. I don’t know where the “Old Smith Place” used to be. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t ever there.
Change….growth…is as painful as exciting.
But what about change and growth --- in our hearts?
What if God wants to do something new with our lives?
A friend sent me a wonderful, and fascinating view of God excerpted from a recent article by Will Willimon, bishop of the North Alabama Conference, scholar, theologian, and former Dean of the Chapel at Duke University.
Willimon says, in part:
I’ve asked mainline pastors, "Who is the most sinned-against person of the Holy Trinity?" They always answer, "The Holy Spirit." Let's confess: there is this sinful tendency in the church to want to contain and stabilize God. Church furniture tends to be heavier than it needs to be—large and bolted to the floor. Church buildings tend to be built more substantially than is necessary. Church scholars tend to characterize God as an ossified essence. Perhaps this attempt forever to stabilize and to secure the church comes from the church's inchoate knowledge that it is the nature of this God's word to cause oaks to whirl, to shake the foundations, to rip doors off hinges (Ps. 29; Acts 2).
…to be apostolic is to be a body in motion, a church that is sent. It is not to seek permanence, stability or some significance of its own, but instead to be content to be apostolic and to serve at the pleasure of the One who calls and commissions. Introversion is the death of a church because the Trinity, for all its loving concern, seems to be ruthless in killing any church that won't be apostolic.
The comforting thing is that we don't have to content ourselves with the sorry state of the present church because the living God keeps raising up a new church. "A sower went out to sow . . ."
…Here is a God who is peripatetic, nomadic, ecstatic, unable to settle down. Jesus told many stories that begin, "A rich man called all of his servants in, distributed everything he had, then left." God has absconded our stable fellowship in order to beat the bushes in search of people we don't like, has abandoned the sheep safe in the fold in order to risk looking for the lost.
John Ortberg tells us in our current study, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, that disciples of this active, moving, unpredictable God have a choice.
Faith or fear.
I have felt the pain of communities that, with good and understandable cause, wanted to contain growth --- slow it, or make it happen in an acceptable pattern, one small notch at a time. Fear of a community out of control has the power to change elections, adopt codes and shape lawmaking.
But when God takes root in a heart, code enforcement gets pretty difficult. God isn’t interested in our fear, but he really does love to see us step toward him in faith.
Ortberg reminds us this week that God’s most frequent commandment in scripture is “be not afraid.” It happens 366 times.
Get the picture? New happens. God will help us. Be not afraid.
Grace, Peace, & Push –
Adam
If you live here, you know that’s the understatement of the century. It’s really growing.
The latest demographic data I could find for today shows an anticipated 11% growth rate in the SOTH zip code (30135) over the next 5 years. The national average for that same time period is projected at less than 5%.
Our county is growing.
Rapid growth is a fascinating thing. It’s a particularly American phenomenon. We’re optimistic people, we have room to expand, we have plenty of kids (more than any other industrialized nation), and our houses are big enough to hold large families.
Even so, watching rapid growth in an American small town is a fascinating thing.
In the last community in which Holly and I lived, the growth rate was moving at an even faster rate. Not unlike Douglasville, Evans is a place that has seen awesome transformation. New homes, new schools, new people, new businesses, new government, newcomers.
New.
As a result, I have listened for years to the heartfelt and heart-wrenching words of local people trying to cope with change. As one of the newcomers, I see the bustling growth of subdivisions and clearing for new shopping centers as places of opportunity and possibility. I see property values on the rise, and a great quality of life for more people.
For me, such scenes of “progress” don’t hold any pain --- because I don’t know the stories that have gone before.
When I tell you how to get somewhere in Douglasville, you won’t hear me say, “you know, hang a left where the old Smith place used to be.”
I’m new. I don’t know where the “Old Smith Place” used to be. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t ever there.
Change….growth…is as painful as exciting.
But what about change and growth --- in our hearts?
What if God wants to do something new with our lives?
A friend sent me a wonderful, and fascinating view of God excerpted from a recent article by Will Willimon, bishop of the North Alabama Conference, scholar, theologian, and former Dean of the Chapel at Duke University.
Willimon says, in part:
I’ve asked mainline pastors, "Who is the most sinned-against person of the Holy Trinity?" They always answer, "The Holy Spirit." Let's confess: there is this sinful tendency in the church to want to contain and stabilize God. Church furniture tends to be heavier than it needs to be—large and bolted to the floor. Church buildings tend to be built more substantially than is necessary. Church scholars tend to characterize God as an ossified essence. Perhaps this attempt forever to stabilize and to secure the church comes from the church's inchoate knowledge that it is the nature of this God's word to cause oaks to whirl, to shake the foundations, to rip doors off hinges (Ps. 29; Acts 2).
…to be apostolic is to be a body in motion, a church that is sent. It is not to seek permanence, stability or some significance of its own, but instead to be content to be apostolic and to serve at the pleasure of the One who calls and commissions. Introversion is the death of a church because the Trinity, for all its loving concern, seems to be ruthless in killing any church that won't be apostolic.
The comforting thing is that we don't have to content ourselves with the sorry state of the present church because the living God keeps raising up a new church. "A sower went out to sow . . ."
…Here is a God who is peripatetic, nomadic, ecstatic, unable to settle down. Jesus told many stories that begin, "A rich man called all of his servants in, distributed everything he had, then left." God has absconded our stable fellowship in order to beat the bushes in search of people we don't like, has abandoned the sheep safe in the fold in order to risk looking for the lost.
John Ortberg tells us in our current study, If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, that disciples of this active, moving, unpredictable God have a choice.
Faith or fear.
I have felt the pain of communities that, with good and understandable cause, wanted to contain growth --- slow it, or make it happen in an acceptable pattern, one small notch at a time. Fear of a community out of control has the power to change elections, adopt codes and shape lawmaking.
But when God takes root in a heart, code enforcement gets pretty difficult. God isn’t interested in our fear, but he really does love to see us step toward him in faith.
Ortberg reminds us this week that God’s most frequent commandment in scripture is “be not afraid.” It happens 366 times.
Get the picture? New happens. God will help us. Be not afraid.
Grace, Peace, & Push –
Adam
Oct 11, 2006
Step
OK, watch this.
Pretty good, huh?
Now, if you’ve got another minute and a half to kill, watch this, too.
Those clips sold for $1.65 billion yesterday. No joke.
Well, those…and all the other user-created clips that are downloaded about 100 million (also no joke) times a day at youtube.com.
The folks from your friendly neighborhood search engine, Google, acquired Youtube and plan to add google-style advertising and merge their highly successful business model with this emerging broadband video phenomenon.
$1.65 billion, and Google obviously believes it will make money in the long run. After all, that is their point, but I do give them props for their “do no evil” way of going about it. One minor editorial soapbox – Christian churches could learn a lot from Google’s way of doing business.
But here’s the thing: $1.65 billion was just paid for a business that defies the accepted laws of classical economics.
So much for accepted laws. The theory says that “labor” will only “produce” if there is direct economic motivation for its work. In short, people will only work if they get paid.
Neither t-shirt guy nor sock guy in the clips above will see one red cent of the $1.65 billion in question.
So, why would they do it? Why would all those you-tubers out there produce their own videos, at their own expense (which, admittedly isn’t much – but still), and post them on someone else’s website? Why do birds sing? Why do bloggers blog?
After all, the very site you’re reading from right now, blogger.com, makes its living from “user-created” content, from folks like yours truly.
What makes us do it?
I believe that on some level, maybe all human beings long for significance, and perhaps they long for that significance above all else.
People want to believe that they matter. That someone knows they’re here. That someone cares about what they think, do, and become.
Given the right vehicle, millions of people will flail their arms, jump up and down…wear hundreds of t-shirts, and scream out, “HEY EVERYBODY, WATCH THIS!!!”
Otherwise, a leather-bound journal in a desk drawer would do just fine, wouldn’t it?
In a sense, the economic theory isn’t wrong. “Labor” produces in this new techno-world because there is a payoff in return. Significance, or the draw of possible significance, can move people --- to act --- to do something.
John Ortberg has said in If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, that knowing and following Jesus starts with a single step.
The draw of significance was more than Jesus' disciple Peter could resist (Matthew 14). “Lord, if it is you, call me to come to you upon the waves.”
He did. And Peter placed his foot upon the water.
I remember the first edition of the SOTHBLOG that I ever posted, some 15 months ago. I’d never attached my name to anything on the internet, and the proposition of doing so was a little alarming.
But the possibility of communicating with my congregation every week, and with friends and family, and just maybe with little slices of the whole, wide, world was more than I could resist. The idea was exciting, and it still is.
That little step was a small act of faith, and though it was exciting, it was also uncomfortable.
Folks, that’s how following Jesus feels sometimes. Exciting…and uncomfortable.
Jesus always seeks to draw us deeper. Deeper into relationship with him that changes our hearts and our ways of seeing and interacting with the world. Deeper into complexity and possibility.
As Ortberg says, there is always a call --- and always fear --- and on the other side of faithful, tiny steps, there is always significance. Someone knows you’re here…and that someone cares supremely.
So…a proposition.
What if SOTH, and all the other gatherings of Christians throughout the world, could find the powerful simplicity and irresistible draw that the two guys who thought up youtube produced?
What if we create a space – a community – not in screens and electrons, but in real flesh and blood -- where people can’t help meeting the possibility of real significance?
Could the draw of really knowing God move an almost-believer to take a first small step outside her comfort zone?
Yes indeed.
And there can be a second step…and a third…and a fourth…eventually, the old way can pass away…into a new life in Christ.
Now that’s significant.
I’ve really come to believe that the creation of those kinds of experiences is the real reason we’re here and the entirety of God’s need for his church in the world.
Know what? Maybe take a second and upload a prayer to the Big Programmer in the Sky…you don’t even have to sign up for the free account. He already knows your name, and you don’t need a password.
Sure, it’s a risk, it’s a little uncomfortable at first, and neither you nor I are going to earn one red cent from the experience.
…But it just might be the first step on the path to real significance.
Go get your feet wet --- it’s worth it.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
CHARGE CONFERENCE – Don’t forget that we’ll celebrate our last 12 months of ministry and look forward to the year ahead when our Rome-Carrollton District Superintendent, Jacqui Rose-Tucker is present with us at 3:00 this Sunday, October 15th in our worship space for our annual Charge Conference. Officers and ministry teams for the coming year will be put into place, and we’ll adopt the budget and consider other important matters for 2007.
OUT OF THE BOAT WORSHIP SERIES: Our small groups continue to study John Ortberg’s book, and this Sunday will mark our third installment of a six-week look at deepening faith and following Jesus. We’ve talked about fear, gifts and this Sunday we’ll focus on moving beyond our own places of comfort and into places of new growth.
PUMPKIN TIME AT SOTH!!! It’s time for the Youth pumpkin patch again! We need all available volunteers to come unload the truck and help set up the patch this Friday at 4:30. Thanks in advance to all of you who come out for this time of hard work and lots of fun.
Pretty good, huh?
Now, if you’ve got another minute and a half to kill, watch this, too.
Those clips sold for $1.65 billion yesterday. No joke.
Well, those…and all the other user-created clips that are downloaded about 100 million (also no joke) times a day at youtube.com.
The folks from your friendly neighborhood search engine, Google, acquired Youtube and plan to add google-style advertising and merge their highly successful business model with this emerging broadband video phenomenon.
$1.65 billion, and Google obviously believes it will make money in the long run. After all, that is their point, but I do give them props for their “do no evil” way of going about it. One minor editorial soapbox – Christian churches could learn a lot from Google’s way of doing business.
But here’s the thing: $1.65 billion was just paid for a business that defies the accepted laws of classical economics.
So much for accepted laws. The theory says that “labor” will only “produce” if there is direct economic motivation for its work. In short, people will only work if they get paid.
Neither t-shirt guy nor sock guy in the clips above will see one red cent of the $1.65 billion in question.
So, why would they do it? Why would all those you-tubers out there produce their own videos, at their own expense (which, admittedly isn’t much – but still), and post them on someone else’s website? Why do birds sing? Why do bloggers blog?
After all, the very site you’re reading from right now, blogger.com, makes its living from “user-created” content, from folks like yours truly.
What makes us do it?
I believe that on some level, maybe all human beings long for significance, and perhaps they long for that significance above all else.
People want to believe that they matter. That someone knows they’re here. That someone cares about what they think, do, and become.
Given the right vehicle, millions of people will flail their arms, jump up and down…wear hundreds of t-shirts, and scream out, “HEY EVERYBODY, WATCH THIS!!!”
Otherwise, a leather-bound journal in a desk drawer would do just fine, wouldn’t it?
In a sense, the economic theory isn’t wrong. “Labor” produces in this new techno-world because there is a payoff in return. Significance, or the draw of possible significance, can move people --- to act --- to do something.
John Ortberg has said in If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, that knowing and following Jesus starts with a single step.
The draw of significance was more than Jesus' disciple Peter could resist (Matthew 14). “Lord, if it is you, call me to come to you upon the waves.”
He did. And Peter placed his foot upon the water.
I remember the first edition of the SOTHBLOG that I ever posted, some 15 months ago. I’d never attached my name to anything on the internet, and the proposition of doing so was a little alarming.
But the possibility of communicating with my congregation every week, and with friends and family, and just maybe with little slices of the whole, wide, world was more than I could resist. The idea was exciting, and it still is.
That little step was a small act of faith, and though it was exciting, it was also uncomfortable.
Folks, that’s how following Jesus feels sometimes. Exciting…and uncomfortable.
Jesus always seeks to draw us deeper. Deeper into relationship with him that changes our hearts and our ways of seeing and interacting with the world. Deeper into complexity and possibility.
As Ortberg says, there is always a call --- and always fear --- and on the other side of faithful, tiny steps, there is always significance. Someone knows you’re here…and that someone cares supremely.
So…a proposition.
What if SOTH, and all the other gatherings of Christians throughout the world, could find the powerful simplicity and irresistible draw that the two guys who thought up youtube produced?
What if we create a space – a community – not in screens and electrons, but in real flesh and blood -- where people can’t help meeting the possibility of real significance?
Could the draw of really knowing God move an almost-believer to take a first small step outside her comfort zone?
Yes indeed.
And there can be a second step…and a third…and a fourth…eventually, the old way can pass away…into a new life in Christ.
Now that’s significant.
I’ve really come to believe that the creation of those kinds of experiences is the real reason we’re here and the entirety of God’s need for his church in the world.
Know what? Maybe take a second and upload a prayer to the Big Programmer in the Sky…you don’t even have to sign up for the free account. He already knows your name, and you don’t need a password.
Sure, it’s a risk, it’s a little uncomfortable at first, and neither you nor I are going to earn one red cent from the experience.
…But it just might be the first step on the path to real significance.
Go get your feet wet --- it’s worth it.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
CHARGE CONFERENCE – Don’t forget that we’ll celebrate our last 12 months of ministry and look forward to the year ahead when our Rome-Carrollton District Superintendent, Jacqui Rose-Tucker is present with us at 3:00 this Sunday, October 15th in our worship space for our annual Charge Conference. Officers and ministry teams for the coming year will be put into place, and we’ll adopt the budget and consider other important matters for 2007.
OUT OF THE BOAT WORSHIP SERIES: Our small groups continue to study John Ortberg’s book, and this Sunday will mark our third installment of a six-week look at deepening faith and following Jesus. We’ve talked about fear, gifts and this Sunday we’ll focus on moving beyond our own places of comfort and into places of new growth.
PUMPKIN TIME AT SOTH!!! It’s time for the Youth pumpkin patch again! We need all available volunteers to come unload the truck and help set up the patch this Friday at 4:30. Thanks in advance to all of you who come out for this time of hard work and lots of fun.
Oct 4, 2006
Gift
“I know what I want to do, and it makes sense to get going.”
It does make sense, doesn’t it.
What if the “it” is the act of giving away $37 billion?
Yep, I said THIRTY-SEVEN BILLION. With a “B.”
But when you have $37 Billion at your disposal, you’re not crazy. You’re…maybe a little eccentric. “Crazy” is just a title for folks without the cash to offset their craziness.
Actually, you’d be an incredibly successful business person with an innate ability to think in ways other people never have. You’d be Warren Buffett.
Back in June of this year, Warren Buffett announced that he would be giving away 85% of his wealth to the work of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.
Let’s just say that $37 billion truly is more money than any of us can really imagine.
But, for kicks, let’s see if we can make it a little more real.
To spend $37 billion in the course of a 70 year lifetime (and this is if you stuffed it all in the world’s biggest mattress and didn’t earn any interest), you’d need to spend $1.45 million……EVERY SINGLE DAY, EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE.
Folks, that’s a lot of money. That’s kind of like calling the Grand Canyon a pretty big mudhole.
What motivates someone to give away wealth on that scale? How can a person possibly make that kind of gift?
Carol Loomis, editor of Fortune magazine, asked Buffett the obvious question: “Are you sick?”
Nope.
It was unclear as to whether she was questioning his mental or physical well-being, but somehow I sense the implication that her question aimed at both.
Buffett’s thoughts about his wealth are just fascinating:
…Well, when we got married in 1952, I told Susie I was going to be rich. That wasn't going to be because of any special virtues of mine or even because of hard work, but simply because I was born with the right skills in the right place at the right time.
I was wired at birth to allocate capital and was lucky enough to have people around me early on - my parents and teachers and Susie - who helped me to make the most of that.
In any case, Susie didn't get very excited when I told her we were going to get rich. She either didn't care or didn't believe me - probably both, in fact. But to the extent we did amass wealth, we were totally in sync about what to do with it - and that was to give it back to society.
In that, we agreed with Andrew Carnegie, who said that huge fortunes that flow in large part from society should in large part be returned to society. In my case, the ability to allocate capital would have had little utility unless I lived in a rich, populous country in which enormous quantities of marketable securities were traded and were sometimes ridiculously mispriced.
And fortunately for me, that describes the U.S. in the second half of the last century.
Certainly neither Susie nor I ever thought we should pass huge amounts of money along to our children. Our kids are great. But I would argue that when your kids have all the advantages anyway, in terms of how they grow up and the opportunities they have for education, including what they learn at home - I would say it's neither right nor rational to be flooding them with money.
In effect, they've had a gigantic headstart in a society that aspires to be a meritocracy. Dynastic mega-wealth would further tilt the playing field that we ought to be trying instead to level.
In my “pastor-ears” I hear Buffett’s words sounding an awful lot like the kinds of things we teach at church --- that Jesus passes on to his disciples.
“I have this gift, freely received…and now I should freely make my gift available to the world.”
Sounds great --- but what if your gift was $37 Billion?
Could you give that gift away?
One the one hand, I know what you’re probably thinking. “Hmmm…Buffett will have to figure out how to live on the 15% of his $44 billion fortune. Yeah, I’d be willing to try that.”
Don’t sell our man Warren short. Giving away $37 Billion, or 85% of your life’s earnings for that matter, whatever the number is, cannot be easy.
Whether we’re giving away $37 billion, or $37 thousand, or $3700, I think the same fundamental principal of the heart is at play. Something out there matters more than money.
Something, somehow, forces us to look at life through a different lens.
Somewhere along the way, those who make gifts have been challenged to see what they’ve already received, and feel moved to share the wealth.
That’s a big part of what following Jesus is all about.
Jesus once told those who would listen a story about a man of enormous wealth.
He prepared to leave the country, and entrusted his fortune to three servants.
To one, he gave 5 talents. To another, he gave three, and the final servant received one. Each, we’re told, received according to “his ability.”
So, what was a talent worth, really? We know that in Jesus’ time, in the Greco-Roman world, a manual laborer could earn one drachma each day. A silver “talent,” weighing almost 58 pounds, was worth 6,000 drachma.
In other words, that laborer would have to work 6000 days (almost 16.5 years – working every single day) to earn one silver talent.
In today’s dollars, that means the master gave the first servant $2.375 million, the second servant $1.425 million, and the third servant $475,000.
Do those numbers get your attention? They definitely would have gotten the attention of those who heard Jesus tell the parable.
The first two servants invested wisely, worked hard and doubled their master’s money by the time of his return. The third servant, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, dug a hole and buried it. Literally.
The weight of the gift was more than he could bear.
What about us?
What will we do with the treasure we have been given? I know, it’s hard, sometimes, for any of us to look at our lives, our “talents” and gifts, and begin to know their value. The lie we too often tell ourselves, because it seems like the easier way, is the one that says, “my little gifts couldn’t matter that much anyway.”
That’s not what Jesus thinks.
When asked why he, the second richest man in America, would choose to give his money to Bill Gates, the richest, here’s what Warren Buffett said:
If you think about it - if your goal is to return the money to society by attacking truly major problems that don't have a commensurate funding base - what could you find that's better than turning to a couple of people who are young, who are ungodly bright, whose ideas have been proven, who already have shown an ability to scale it up and do it right?
You don't get an opportunity like that ordinarily. I'm getting two people enormously successful at something, where I've had a chance to see what they've done, where I know they will keep doing it - where they've done it with their own money, so they're not living in some fantasy world - and where in general I agree with their reasoning. If I've found the right vehicle for my goal, there's no reason to wait.
Compare what I'm doing with them to my situation at Berkshire, where I have talented and proven people in charge of our businesses. They do a much better job than I could in running their operations.
What can be more logical, in whatever you want done, than finding someone better equipped than you are to do it? Who wouldn't select Tiger Woods to take his place in a high-stakes golf game? That's how I feel about this decision about my money.
High praise indeed. Want to know something amazing? God thinks the same of us.
God, for reasons he seems to keep largely to himself, loves us so much that he seeks to accomplish his work in the world through the gifts that he’s given his children.
What if God’s investments reside in your heart, hands, head and ---- yes ---- even your bank account?
What if?
What if God’s people --- those of the tender heart and open mind…of the humble soul and courageous spirit…those who walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ made a collective decision…
What if we knew what to do?
It would make sense to get going.
Grace and Peace –
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
The SOTH pumpkin patch rolls in very soon. We need all volunteers on hand for a fun time (really, not kidding, it’s a blast) unloading pumpkins and setting up for the community. This event provides the yearly fundraising for our youth group, so thanks in advance from “The Flock.” See you here on Friday, October 13th in the afternoon (more specific time to follow as soon as we know it).
Confirmation classes beginning this Sunday afternoon, 4:00 pm at “The Ranch” for all of our current 6th and 7th graders. Questions? Contact Adam at adam@sothumc.net
“Get Out of the Boat” series continues in worship this week with Adam’s sermon, “Gift.” The SOTHBLOG and sermons will be following the small group curriculum currently underway from John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, Get Out of the Boat. Extra copies will be available outside the worship space if you’re not in a small group but would like to read along.
Our series will culminate with an opportunity for each SOTH member to “Get Out of the Boat” in faith for 2007. Financial pledges and volunteer pledges for ministry will be received in our special worship service on November 5th, 2006.
LET’S KICK SOME GRASS: Don’t forget, volunteers will gather this afternoon --- very shortly --- to mow and work on the church property. SOTH accomplishes this task through a team of volunteers, and your help is needed. Come out, enjoy the Fall weather, and weedeat your cares away!
It does make sense, doesn’t it.
What if the “it” is the act of giving away $37 billion?
Yep, I said THIRTY-SEVEN BILLION. With a “B.”
But when you have $37 Billion at your disposal, you’re not crazy. You’re…maybe a little eccentric. “Crazy” is just a title for folks without the cash to offset their craziness.
Actually, you’d be an incredibly successful business person with an innate ability to think in ways other people never have. You’d be Warren Buffett.
Back in June of this year, Warren Buffett announced that he would be giving away 85% of his wealth to the work of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.
Let’s just say that $37 billion truly is more money than any of us can really imagine.
But, for kicks, let’s see if we can make it a little more real.
To spend $37 billion in the course of a 70 year lifetime (and this is if you stuffed it all in the world’s biggest mattress and didn’t earn any interest), you’d need to spend $1.45 million……EVERY SINGLE DAY, EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE.
Folks, that’s a lot of money. That’s kind of like calling the Grand Canyon a pretty big mudhole.
What motivates someone to give away wealth on that scale? How can a person possibly make that kind of gift?
Carol Loomis, editor of Fortune magazine, asked Buffett the obvious question: “Are you sick?”
Nope.
It was unclear as to whether she was questioning his mental or physical well-being, but somehow I sense the implication that her question aimed at both.
Buffett’s thoughts about his wealth are just fascinating:
…Well, when we got married in 1952, I told Susie I was going to be rich. That wasn't going to be because of any special virtues of mine or even because of hard work, but simply because I was born with the right skills in the right place at the right time.
I was wired at birth to allocate capital and was lucky enough to have people around me early on - my parents and teachers and Susie - who helped me to make the most of that.
In any case, Susie didn't get very excited when I told her we were going to get rich. She either didn't care or didn't believe me - probably both, in fact. But to the extent we did amass wealth, we were totally in sync about what to do with it - and that was to give it back to society.
In that, we agreed with Andrew Carnegie, who said that huge fortunes that flow in large part from society should in large part be returned to society. In my case, the ability to allocate capital would have had little utility unless I lived in a rich, populous country in which enormous quantities of marketable securities were traded and were sometimes ridiculously mispriced.
And fortunately for me, that describes the U.S. in the second half of the last century.
Certainly neither Susie nor I ever thought we should pass huge amounts of money along to our children. Our kids are great. But I would argue that when your kids have all the advantages anyway, in terms of how they grow up and the opportunities they have for education, including what they learn at home - I would say it's neither right nor rational to be flooding them with money.
In effect, they've had a gigantic headstart in a society that aspires to be a meritocracy. Dynastic mega-wealth would further tilt the playing field that we ought to be trying instead to level.
In my “pastor-ears” I hear Buffett’s words sounding an awful lot like the kinds of things we teach at church --- that Jesus passes on to his disciples.
“I have this gift, freely received…and now I should freely make my gift available to the world.”
Sounds great --- but what if your gift was $37 Billion?
Could you give that gift away?
One the one hand, I know what you’re probably thinking. “Hmmm…Buffett will have to figure out how to live on the 15% of his $44 billion fortune. Yeah, I’d be willing to try that.”
Don’t sell our man Warren short. Giving away $37 Billion, or 85% of your life’s earnings for that matter, whatever the number is, cannot be easy.
Whether we’re giving away $37 billion, or $37 thousand, or $3700, I think the same fundamental principal of the heart is at play. Something out there matters more than money.
Something, somehow, forces us to look at life through a different lens.
Somewhere along the way, those who make gifts have been challenged to see what they’ve already received, and feel moved to share the wealth.
That’s a big part of what following Jesus is all about.
Jesus once told those who would listen a story about a man of enormous wealth.
He prepared to leave the country, and entrusted his fortune to three servants.
To one, he gave 5 talents. To another, he gave three, and the final servant received one. Each, we’re told, received according to “his ability.”
So, what was a talent worth, really? We know that in Jesus’ time, in the Greco-Roman world, a manual laborer could earn one drachma each day. A silver “talent,” weighing almost 58 pounds, was worth 6,000 drachma.
In other words, that laborer would have to work 6000 days (almost 16.5 years – working every single day) to earn one silver talent.
In today’s dollars, that means the master gave the first servant $2.375 million, the second servant $1.425 million, and the third servant $475,000.
Do those numbers get your attention? They definitely would have gotten the attention of those who heard Jesus tell the parable.
The first two servants invested wisely, worked hard and doubled their master’s money by the time of his return. The third servant, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty, dug a hole and buried it. Literally.
The weight of the gift was more than he could bear.
What about us?
What will we do with the treasure we have been given? I know, it’s hard, sometimes, for any of us to look at our lives, our “talents” and gifts, and begin to know their value. The lie we too often tell ourselves, because it seems like the easier way, is the one that says, “my little gifts couldn’t matter that much anyway.”
That’s not what Jesus thinks.
When asked why he, the second richest man in America, would choose to give his money to Bill Gates, the richest, here’s what Warren Buffett said:
If you think about it - if your goal is to return the money to society by attacking truly major problems that don't have a commensurate funding base - what could you find that's better than turning to a couple of people who are young, who are ungodly bright, whose ideas have been proven, who already have shown an ability to scale it up and do it right?
You don't get an opportunity like that ordinarily. I'm getting two people enormously successful at something, where I've had a chance to see what they've done, where I know they will keep doing it - where they've done it with their own money, so they're not living in some fantasy world - and where in general I agree with their reasoning. If I've found the right vehicle for my goal, there's no reason to wait.
Compare what I'm doing with them to my situation at Berkshire, where I have talented and proven people in charge of our businesses. They do a much better job than I could in running their operations.
What can be more logical, in whatever you want done, than finding someone better equipped than you are to do it? Who wouldn't select Tiger Woods to take his place in a high-stakes golf game? That's how I feel about this decision about my money.
High praise indeed. Want to know something amazing? God thinks the same of us.
God, for reasons he seems to keep largely to himself, loves us so much that he seeks to accomplish his work in the world through the gifts that he’s given his children.
What if God’s investments reside in your heart, hands, head and ---- yes ---- even your bank account?
What if?
What if God’s people --- those of the tender heart and open mind…of the humble soul and courageous spirit…those who walk in the footsteps of Jesus Christ made a collective decision…
What if we knew what to do?
It would make sense to get going.
Grace and Peace –
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
The SOTH pumpkin patch rolls in very soon. We need all volunteers on hand for a fun time (really, not kidding, it’s a blast) unloading pumpkins and setting up for the community. This event provides the yearly fundraising for our youth group, so thanks in advance from “The Flock.” See you here on Friday, October 13th in the afternoon (more specific time to follow as soon as we know it).
Confirmation classes beginning this Sunday afternoon, 4:00 pm at “The Ranch” for all of our current 6th and 7th graders. Questions? Contact Adam at adam@sothumc.net
“Get Out of the Boat” series continues in worship this week with Adam’s sermon, “Gift.” The SOTHBLOG and sermons will be following the small group curriculum currently underway from John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, Get Out of the Boat. Extra copies will be available outside the worship space if you’re not in a small group but would like to read along.
Our series will culminate with an opportunity for each SOTH member to “Get Out of the Boat” in faith for 2007. Financial pledges and volunteer pledges for ministry will be received in our special worship service on November 5th, 2006.
LET’S KICK SOME GRASS: Don’t forget, volunteers will gather this afternoon --- very shortly --- to mow and work on the church property. SOTH accomplishes this task through a team of volunteers, and your help is needed. Come out, enjoy the Fall weather, and weedeat your cares away!
Sep 27, 2006
Fear
I can only imagine (even though I don’t really want to) the scene that morning in the ancient city of Syracuse.
The oddball scientist ran naked through the streets, dripping wet from his bath. Wild-eyed and oblivious to the stir he must have caused, he shouted the word over and over again.
“Eureka! Eureka! Eureka!”
Our best translation in English? “I have found it!”
What, you might ask, had our threadbare technician discovered?
Archimedes’ theory of displacement.
He had found his solution, and the sheer joy that accompanied the unearthing of his newly found theory left Archimedes unable to sit still. Legend says he didn’t even take time to find his toga.
Apparently, our hero filled his tub a little too full that particular morning, right up to the top. When he settled in for the daily scrub, he realized that the amount of water spilling over the edge seemed directly connected to the amount of space ol’ Archie himself was filling.
As his brain connected the dots of physics, he realized the magnitude of discovery.
The round of primeval streaking that followed is why you feel confident boarding ship for your Caribbean cruise today.
What do people presume that 70,000 tons of metal will float? I’m always amazed that planes can fly, ships can sail and that any of us can circum-navigate Atlanta, Georgia, on I-285 and live to tell the tale.
And yet, we do it every day. And we don’t consider such decisions to be major leaps of faith. After all, Archimedes has done the math.
Ships displace a volume of water equal to their own weight. Forces can be measured, and even 70,000 ton vessels can float. Planes fly – it has to do with “lift,” or something like that – and we trust that someone has figured out that this will, in fact, work out o.k.
Human beings can do amazing things when they place faith and trust in verifiable, observable, time-tested science. Even when we observe other realities --- like ships that sink, planes that crash, or commuters who crash --- we block that possibility from our thinking and forge ahead. After all, if we didn’t, how would we ever “get” anywhere? The reward outweighs the risk.
Trusting in God seems a little tougher.
…4 a.m….rough water…exhaustion…hunger…frustration…fear.
Something was out there, and it was getting closer.
How could any boat be making that kind of time in this kind of storm? The wind had pushed them far from shore.
There were seasoned boat people among them. Even though, to a man, they all had their “sea legs,” fear was palpable in the air, and growing by the second.
There could be no doubt now, something was closing on them. As it drew nearer and nearer, initial misgivings blossomed into full-blown panic.
WHAT…IS…HAPPENING?
Adrenaline pumped, minds raced, and then it happened ---
Somebody said the word… “GHOST!”
After that, I can only imagine that all kinds of things broke loose, if you know what I mean. And you do.
I can’t imagine that anyone among the disciples remembered to reflect upon “Archimedes’ theory of displacement” in the heat of those confusing moments on the Sea of Galilee.
Perhaps, if they had, they might have offered themselves a bit of rational comfort. “Physics tells us that what we’re witnessing can’t be happening, so everything must be fine,” they might have thought. But seeing is believing. And it was happening, right before their eyes.
Fear lives just this side of faith, and it weighs a ton.
Two nights ago, I was jolted out of bed at the sound of one of the most horrific crashes I have ever heard. Instinctively, I knew that this was it. The moment had come when a Hartsfield-bound plane had crashed into our house…or Al-Qaeda had blown up our garage…or Osama himself had come to steal my children and attack my wife.
In reality, what had happened wasn’t quite as dramatic – or dangerous.
Turns out, our enormous, old, fat cat had taken a running shot into a bathtub and knocked the boys’ big, plastic, toy boats to smithereens. It’s amazing what the sound of that sort of feline-induced plastic and fiberglass smash-up can do to a protective dad and husband who has drifted deep into REM sleep.
The “fight or flight” response is a real thing. My adrenaline glands instantly dumped all of their reserve directly into my bloodstream. Then, they made a second batch and dumped that, too. After that, they put some more on backorder, and started looking for extra on Ebay.
I was instantly awake, though not yet rational. I leapt (not kidding, this is Holly’s eye-witness account) out of bed and in one gigantic hop, I managed to place myself at the entrance to our bedroom, eyes fixed on the door to our garage, where I could take on the marauders invading our home, and fight them to the death.
Seriously, we’re talking kung fu pose, and the whole deal. There was also a kind of guttural cry involved, and an utterance of the phrase, “Come On! Come On!” ….as in, “Bring It, Osama!!!”
I cannot eat pizza that late in the evening.
What I’ve learned is this. Real fear is a powerful thing. It can grip us like a giant hand, squeezing and choking away life. “Fear” and “thought” don’t do well together, and “thought” pretty much always loses that battle.
The result is that we human beings are willing to do almost anything to avoid dealing with our fears.
We figure out how to engage the world in such a way that our safety and comfort-level can always be assured. We devise formulas, test and re-test, and only board boats that we believe can float through any storm.
We cling, white-knuckled, to the false “faith” that says boats of our own making can never be sunk. Down deep, we know better, but the boat always feels safer than the storm.
There’s only one problem.
Jesus.
He comes walking across the water.
I don’t know why he chooses to send the disciples on ahead that night, or why he decides to teach them such a dynamic object lesson in that storm.
But I think he means to show them, and us, a thing or two about fear.
Fear is heavy. Fear sinks. Fear can’t get out of the boat.
But faith….it’s buoyant.
It displaces…pushes…lifts.
Fear didn’t move Peter to ask if he could come to Jesus. Faith did. Faith somehow held his feet steady on the waves. Faith moved him closer and closer.
Fear made him fall…and Jesus was there to catch him.
This week at SOTH, we’re gonna talk about the things that scare us. As we begin our study of If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, we’re going to think about the truth of John Ortberg’s first assertion.
Following Jesus means receiving a call from God, for every single one of us, to engage in a particular work in this world. And when God calls us, as he surely does, we always find ourselves afraid.
But faith lives just on the other side.
Come take the first step this Sunday.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Welcome to Mike and Karen Hubbard, and Jake and Jessica. It’s a real joy for them to welcome them into membership at SOTH!
Fall Community Groups – Over 40 adults are involved in 4 Fall Community Groups for in-depth study of If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat! Groups have their first meetings this week, and it’s not to late to join the fun.
Mondays at 6:30: Tim Potate and Lamar Gilstrap lead, and the group meets at Tim and Ellie Potate’s house – 5595 West Chapel Hill Rd.
Thursdays at 6:30: Hosts are Bill and Mona Clary, 3841 Oak Hill Rd., with Sandra Wells leading.
Fridays at 7:00: Mike and Krys Brooks host, 3810 Georgia Drive, with Derrick Fountain leading.
Saturdays at 6:30: Jim and Cindi Bartlett host – 4297 Doublegate Drive, and Andrea Vantrees will lead.
More great things are coming in October, including our annual Pumpkin Patch youth fundraiser for the community! We need lots of volunteers to help run the patch, and you can sign up on the Youth bulletin board in the church hallway.
Delivery is scheduled for the afternoon of Friday, October 13th, and we’ll need lots of help unloading the truck. Truly, this is always one of the most fun time of working together that happens throughout the year, and you don’t want to miss the spectacle of thousands of pumpkins being unloaded for the folks lined up in traffic up and down Chapel Hill Road!
The oddball scientist ran naked through the streets, dripping wet from his bath. Wild-eyed and oblivious to the stir he must have caused, he shouted the word over and over again.
“Eureka! Eureka! Eureka!”
Our best translation in English? “I have found it!”
What, you might ask, had our threadbare technician discovered?
Archimedes’ theory of displacement.
He had found his solution, and the sheer joy that accompanied the unearthing of his newly found theory left Archimedes unable to sit still. Legend says he didn’t even take time to find his toga.
Apparently, our hero filled his tub a little too full that particular morning, right up to the top. When he settled in for the daily scrub, he realized that the amount of water spilling over the edge seemed directly connected to the amount of space ol’ Archie himself was filling.
As his brain connected the dots of physics, he realized the magnitude of discovery.
The round of primeval streaking that followed is why you feel confident boarding ship for your Caribbean cruise today.
What do people presume that 70,000 tons of metal will float? I’m always amazed that planes can fly, ships can sail and that any of us can circum-navigate Atlanta, Georgia, on I-285 and live to tell the tale.
And yet, we do it every day. And we don’t consider such decisions to be major leaps of faith. After all, Archimedes has done the math.
Ships displace a volume of water equal to their own weight. Forces can be measured, and even 70,000 ton vessels can float. Planes fly – it has to do with “lift,” or something like that – and we trust that someone has figured out that this will, in fact, work out o.k.
Human beings can do amazing things when they place faith and trust in verifiable, observable, time-tested science. Even when we observe other realities --- like ships that sink, planes that crash, or commuters who crash --- we block that possibility from our thinking and forge ahead. After all, if we didn’t, how would we ever “get” anywhere? The reward outweighs the risk.
Trusting in God seems a little tougher.
…4 a.m….rough water…exhaustion…hunger…frustration…fear.
Something was out there, and it was getting closer.
How could any boat be making that kind of time in this kind of storm? The wind had pushed them far from shore.
There were seasoned boat people among them. Even though, to a man, they all had their “sea legs,” fear was palpable in the air, and growing by the second.
There could be no doubt now, something was closing on them. As it drew nearer and nearer, initial misgivings blossomed into full-blown panic.
WHAT…IS…HAPPENING?
Adrenaline pumped, minds raced, and then it happened ---
Somebody said the word… “GHOST!”
After that, I can only imagine that all kinds of things broke loose, if you know what I mean. And you do.
I can’t imagine that anyone among the disciples remembered to reflect upon “Archimedes’ theory of displacement” in the heat of those confusing moments on the Sea of Galilee.
Perhaps, if they had, they might have offered themselves a bit of rational comfort. “Physics tells us that what we’re witnessing can’t be happening, so everything must be fine,” they might have thought. But seeing is believing. And it was happening, right before their eyes.
Fear lives just this side of faith, and it weighs a ton.
Two nights ago, I was jolted out of bed at the sound of one of the most horrific crashes I have ever heard. Instinctively, I knew that this was it. The moment had come when a Hartsfield-bound plane had crashed into our house…or Al-Qaeda had blown up our garage…or Osama himself had come to steal my children and attack my wife.
In reality, what had happened wasn’t quite as dramatic – or dangerous.
Turns out, our enormous, old, fat cat had taken a running shot into a bathtub and knocked the boys’ big, plastic, toy boats to smithereens. It’s amazing what the sound of that sort of feline-induced plastic and fiberglass smash-up can do to a protective dad and husband who has drifted deep into REM sleep.
The “fight or flight” response is a real thing. My adrenaline glands instantly dumped all of their reserve directly into my bloodstream. Then, they made a second batch and dumped that, too. After that, they put some more on backorder, and started looking for extra on Ebay.
I was instantly awake, though not yet rational. I leapt (not kidding, this is Holly’s eye-witness account) out of bed and in one gigantic hop, I managed to place myself at the entrance to our bedroom, eyes fixed on the door to our garage, where I could take on the marauders invading our home, and fight them to the death.
Seriously, we’re talking kung fu pose, and the whole deal. There was also a kind of guttural cry involved, and an utterance of the phrase, “Come On! Come On!” ….as in, “Bring It, Osama!!!”
I cannot eat pizza that late in the evening.
What I’ve learned is this. Real fear is a powerful thing. It can grip us like a giant hand, squeezing and choking away life. “Fear” and “thought” don’t do well together, and “thought” pretty much always loses that battle.
The result is that we human beings are willing to do almost anything to avoid dealing with our fears.
We figure out how to engage the world in such a way that our safety and comfort-level can always be assured. We devise formulas, test and re-test, and only board boats that we believe can float through any storm.
We cling, white-knuckled, to the false “faith” that says boats of our own making can never be sunk. Down deep, we know better, but the boat always feels safer than the storm.
There’s only one problem.
Jesus.
He comes walking across the water.
I don’t know why he chooses to send the disciples on ahead that night, or why he decides to teach them such a dynamic object lesson in that storm.
But I think he means to show them, and us, a thing or two about fear.
Fear is heavy. Fear sinks. Fear can’t get out of the boat.
But faith….it’s buoyant.
It displaces…pushes…lifts.
Fear didn’t move Peter to ask if he could come to Jesus. Faith did. Faith somehow held his feet steady on the waves. Faith moved him closer and closer.
Fear made him fall…and Jesus was there to catch him.
This week at SOTH, we’re gonna talk about the things that scare us. As we begin our study of If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, we’re going to think about the truth of John Ortberg’s first assertion.
Following Jesus means receiving a call from God, for every single one of us, to engage in a particular work in this world. And when God calls us, as he surely does, we always find ourselves afraid.
But faith lives just on the other side.
Come take the first step this Sunday.
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Welcome to Mike and Karen Hubbard, and Jake and Jessica. It’s a real joy for them to welcome them into membership at SOTH!
Fall Community Groups – Over 40 adults are involved in 4 Fall Community Groups for in-depth study of If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat! Groups have their first meetings this week, and it’s not to late to join the fun.
Mondays at 6:30: Tim Potate and Lamar Gilstrap lead, and the group meets at Tim and Ellie Potate’s house – 5595 West Chapel Hill Rd.
Thursdays at 6:30: Hosts are Bill and Mona Clary, 3841 Oak Hill Rd., with Sandra Wells leading.
Fridays at 7:00: Mike and Krys Brooks host, 3810 Georgia Drive, with Derrick Fountain leading.
Saturdays at 6:30: Jim and Cindi Bartlett host – 4297 Doublegate Drive, and Andrea Vantrees will lead.
More great things are coming in October, including our annual Pumpkin Patch youth fundraiser for the community! We need lots of volunteers to help run the patch, and you can sign up on the Youth bulletin board in the church hallway.
Delivery is scheduled for the afternoon of Friday, October 13th, and we’ll need lots of help unloading the truck. Truly, this is always one of the most fun time of working together that happens throughout the year, and you don’t want to miss the spectacle of thousands of pumpkins being unloaded for the folks lined up in traffic up and down Chapel Hill Road!
Sep 20, 2006
Speech
I remember very well the first lecture of that semester.
My teacher, a native of India, described his childhood as one of “growing up on an island of Christianity in an ocean of Hinduism.”
Himself a Methodist pastor, he had followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. Their home was “Nazareth,” a tiny Indian village, converted to Christian faith by Methodist missionaries in the 19th century.
“This class,” he said, “is called, ‘Christian Encounter with Hinduism,’ and that is a lovely name. The problem, however, is that such a title sounds like something you can do by reading books.”
He paused, for effect, and continued, slyly, “This class should really be called ‘Christians Encountering Hindus,’ because that is what we intend to do --- encounter one another.”
That is exactly what we did.
Don’t get me wrong. We definitely read plenty of books. We read the Bible and sacred Hindu texts side-by-side. We read the scholarly reflections of our teacher and other authorities on Christian/Hindu dialogue. We read about the culture and philosophies of India and other Hindu nations. But the experiences of meeting real Hindu people have stayed with me far longer than the best written of those texts.
That semester, for me, was a study in what “diversity” can really mean. We didn’t pull any punches, and we didn’t soft-sell the hard work that interfaith dialogue really is.
I remember the undergraduate students who came to our class and spent 90 minutes sharing about their faith, fielding questions from those of us who understood so little about their belief and practice. They were earnest and sincere young people --- like young people from Christian families, they ran the gamut from those who seemed very pious and committed to others who felt that religion was something for their grandparents’ generation.
I remember the little, tiny, ancient, white man who came dressed in his Hindu priestly vestments. At over 80 years of age, he was the picture of health and vitality. As a young spiritual seeker, he had taken off across the U.S., hitch-hiking and looking for God.
He said that he stopped at church after church, and no one could show him a path that would open up his heart for communion with God, until finally he knocked on the doors of a Vaisnavite community in Chicago. Yoga and meditation spoke to him in a powerful way and he eventually committed himself fully into a Hindu religious order.
I remember the Indian professor of physics who visited us, sharing about the role that faith played in his family, and what it was like to be Hindu in a Christian culture.
Most of all, I remember our trip to a Hindu temple in Atlanta. We met priests and witnessed their conduct of a Hindu worship service. There, I experienced a pocket of India, hidden just off an Atlanta street. Sights, sounds and smells I had never known overwhelmed my senses.
This ol’ Methodist boy came away having learned a lot.
For one, Hinduism and Christianity are really, really different.
That was a lot of tuition to come to such an earth-shaking conclusion, huh?
What I mean is, I learned that understanding diversity doesn’t mean trying to over-emphasize similarities while pretending that differences don’t exist.
Hinduism and Christianity are really, really different.
I found that I don’t agree with everything in Hindu thought and practice.
I found out that I really do love Indian food (big shocker).
I also found that nowhere along the way did anybody asked me to agree with anything. They didn’t even ask me “whether” I agreed with anything. At no time did anyone threaten my faith in Jesus.
I found out that Hindus and Christians can be friends.
At another seminar that same semester, I remember a different professor saying, “diversity isn’t ‘look how much we’re alike, isn’t this wonderful!’ but more like ‘wow, we’re really different, and we choose to live with one another and respect each other anyway.’”
“Respect” and “agreement” are not mutually exclusive.
It’s possible to be “fully” Christian --- a dedicated follower of Jesus Christ, clear about one’s own personal identity --- and also still be a person who holds respect for all people, building relationships and living in harmony with everyone, no matter our real differences.
In fact, it seems a shame to me that I would even have to write that sentence. Shouldn’t faith in Jesus inherently enhance our capacity to “love one another,” even when the “others” don’t look, act or think like we do?
I know. I can already hear the hairs on some of your necks standing tall as you wonder, “then what makes us Christian? Is every religion just as good as another one? What about the cross? What about the need to bring other people to faith in Jesus? Don’t you know that Jesus is ‘the way, the truth and the light, and that no one comes to the Father except through him???”
As far as I can tell, no part of faith in Jesus – no part of the cross – no part of walking in His steps tells me that I have authority to judge another person.
Nowhere does faith in Jesus tell me that I have the authority to define who will be my “neighbor,” no matter how badly I might want to. And I’m pretty sure The Book is clear about two things Christians are supposed to do: we love God, and our neighbors. Jesus says those neighbors are the ones you’d least suspect – or choose.
Knowing that truth and putting it into practice is in no way contradictory to the good news of the Gospel. Rather, it is its highest fulfillment.
It is time for all people of faith to reclaim the podium from the militants. If they won’t turn loose of the microphone (and they won’t), then maybe we at least need to find a way to pull their plugs. TV’s do have on/off buttons (not that I use them nearly enough).
Media outlets are drawn to controversy, extremism and fear-mongering like moths to flame. If we let them, they’ll fill our own individual worlds with the same.
This week, Pope Benedict XVI gave an academic speech at a German seminary where he had taught in the past. Attempting to link faith to “reason,” not “violence,” he quoted a medieval text about Islam, written by a 14th century Byzantine Emperor.
Though the overall direction and content of the speech was appropriate and needed, in my opinion, those specific words were, at best, unfortunate. The ancient quote stated that, the only new things Muhammad had brought to religion were “bad and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached.”
In reaction, Muslims set fire to seven churches in the West Bank of Israel and burned effigies of the Pope in violent protest around the world. Governments have protested against the Pope, and his planned trip to Turkey is now in jeopardy.
The media coverage of this story has been intense, and certainly, there has been real tension around this incident that should not be downplayed.
However, overreaction and violence are not the whole story. Extremists aren’t the only ones who should have the microphone, or find the camera.
The Pope has worked to make apology and to bring clarity to the intention of his statements, and he should be commended.
It is time for some moderate response and clear leadership from Muslim leaders, and it is starting to happen. Remember, moderate comments don’t make headlines.
Muhammad Habash, director of the Center for Islamic Studies in Damascus, Syria, was quoted in the NY Times today, saying, “it is now our turn for calming the situation.”
Ali Bardakoglu, the top Islamic cleric of Turkey said that the Pope’s, “expression of sadness is a sign that he would work for world peace.”
Admittedly, I have longed for a united front of Islamic leadership, loudly condemning suicide attacks and violence perpetuated in the name of Muhammad and Allah. Those condemnations have seemingly been much too few and far between, or at least rarely reported in our media.
But there are things that moderate, thoughtful Christians ought to get loud about sometimes, too. And most often, we don’t. Fear, uncertainty and apathy should never silence people of faith, whether Muslim or Christian. We have a message that needs to be heard.
Here’s my plan: I want to be a Christian “encountering” people. I want our church to be one that is clearly and unflinchingly Christian, but also open and respectful of others. I want us to build relationships, start conversations, and always, always show love of God and love of neighbor in our actions.
I want us to believe in free speech. We should insist upon our own right to it, and defend that same right for others, even when we don’t like what they have to say. I want us to see the world around us and engage it, positively, in the name of Jesus Christ.
I love those words of Muhammad Habash, and I think there’s a way for us to put them into practice --- somehow, some way, right here in Douglasville, Georgia.
“It is now our turn for calming the situation.”
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Worship Notes: This Sunday will be week three, and the conclusion of the sermon series “Cracking Up,” all about dealing with the pressures of real life. We’ve looked at “time,” and “money,” and this week will be all about family. In keeping with that theme, SOTH will highlight one of its greatest ministries, our Preschool!
Preschool director Leslie Mousa will be on hand to share with us about the excellent work that our preschool is doing, and we’ll have lunch after our 10:00 a.m. service to celebrate our congregation’s connection to all that our preschool does in ministry.
A special offering will be received at the 10:00 service to help support the ongoing progress taking place in our school.
Fall Community Groups: Don’t miss your chance to join a fall community group! Sign-ups will continue this Sunday and more info will be coming to those of you on our prayer/ministry e-mail list this week. Five groups are forming at various times and locations, and groups will begin meeting the week of September 25th.
Our text will be John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, which are available for $12 each outside of our worship space.
UM Men News: Our Rock Eagle Men’s Retreat is this weekend, and we’re excited to announce that SOTH will be sending an entire cabin of 18 men to the retreat! This was an excellent response, and the weekend will be very meaningful for every man involved.
My teacher, a native of India, described his childhood as one of “growing up on an island of Christianity in an ocean of Hinduism.”
Himself a Methodist pastor, he had followed in the footsteps of his father and grandfather. Their home was “Nazareth,” a tiny Indian village, converted to Christian faith by Methodist missionaries in the 19th century.
“This class,” he said, “is called, ‘Christian Encounter with Hinduism,’ and that is a lovely name. The problem, however, is that such a title sounds like something you can do by reading books.”
He paused, for effect, and continued, slyly, “This class should really be called ‘Christians Encountering Hindus,’ because that is what we intend to do --- encounter one another.”
That is exactly what we did.
Don’t get me wrong. We definitely read plenty of books. We read the Bible and sacred Hindu texts side-by-side. We read the scholarly reflections of our teacher and other authorities on Christian/Hindu dialogue. We read about the culture and philosophies of India and other Hindu nations. But the experiences of meeting real Hindu people have stayed with me far longer than the best written of those texts.
That semester, for me, was a study in what “diversity” can really mean. We didn’t pull any punches, and we didn’t soft-sell the hard work that interfaith dialogue really is.
I remember the undergraduate students who came to our class and spent 90 minutes sharing about their faith, fielding questions from those of us who understood so little about their belief and practice. They were earnest and sincere young people --- like young people from Christian families, they ran the gamut from those who seemed very pious and committed to others who felt that religion was something for their grandparents’ generation.
I remember the little, tiny, ancient, white man who came dressed in his Hindu priestly vestments. At over 80 years of age, he was the picture of health and vitality. As a young spiritual seeker, he had taken off across the U.S., hitch-hiking and looking for God.
He said that he stopped at church after church, and no one could show him a path that would open up his heart for communion with God, until finally he knocked on the doors of a Vaisnavite community in Chicago. Yoga and meditation spoke to him in a powerful way and he eventually committed himself fully into a Hindu religious order.
I remember the Indian professor of physics who visited us, sharing about the role that faith played in his family, and what it was like to be Hindu in a Christian culture.
Most of all, I remember our trip to a Hindu temple in Atlanta. We met priests and witnessed their conduct of a Hindu worship service. There, I experienced a pocket of India, hidden just off an Atlanta street. Sights, sounds and smells I had never known overwhelmed my senses.
This ol’ Methodist boy came away having learned a lot.
For one, Hinduism and Christianity are really, really different.
That was a lot of tuition to come to such an earth-shaking conclusion, huh?
What I mean is, I learned that understanding diversity doesn’t mean trying to over-emphasize similarities while pretending that differences don’t exist.
Hinduism and Christianity are really, really different.
I found that I don’t agree with everything in Hindu thought and practice.
I found out that I really do love Indian food (big shocker).
I also found that nowhere along the way did anybody asked me to agree with anything. They didn’t even ask me “whether” I agreed with anything. At no time did anyone threaten my faith in Jesus.
I found out that Hindus and Christians can be friends.
At another seminar that same semester, I remember a different professor saying, “diversity isn’t ‘look how much we’re alike, isn’t this wonderful!’ but more like ‘wow, we’re really different, and we choose to live with one another and respect each other anyway.’”
“Respect” and “agreement” are not mutually exclusive.
It’s possible to be “fully” Christian --- a dedicated follower of Jesus Christ, clear about one’s own personal identity --- and also still be a person who holds respect for all people, building relationships and living in harmony with everyone, no matter our real differences.
In fact, it seems a shame to me that I would even have to write that sentence. Shouldn’t faith in Jesus inherently enhance our capacity to “love one another,” even when the “others” don’t look, act or think like we do?
I know. I can already hear the hairs on some of your necks standing tall as you wonder, “then what makes us Christian? Is every religion just as good as another one? What about the cross? What about the need to bring other people to faith in Jesus? Don’t you know that Jesus is ‘the way, the truth and the light, and that no one comes to the Father except through him???”
As far as I can tell, no part of faith in Jesus – no part of the cross – no part of walking in His steps tells me that I have authority to judge another person.
Nowhere does faith in Jesus tell me that I have the authority to define who will be my “neighbor,” no matter how badly I might want to. And I’m pretty sure The Book is clear about two things Christians are supposed to do: we love God, and our neighbors. Jesus says those neighbors are the ones you’d least suspect – or choose.
Knowing that truth and putting it into practice is in no way contradictory to the good news of the Gospel. Rather, it is its highest fulfillment.
It is time for all people of faith to reclaim the podium from the militants. If they won’t turn loose of the microphone (and they won’t), then maybe we at least need to find a way to pull their plugs. TV’s do have on/off buttons (not that I use them nearly enough).
Media outlets are drawn to controversy, extremism and fear-mongering like moths to flame. If we let them, they’ll fill our own individual worlds with the same.
This week, Pope Benedict XVI gave an academic speech at a German seminary where he had taught in the past. Attempting to link faith to “reason,” not “violence,” he quoted a medieval text about Islam, written by a 14th century Byzantine Emperor.
Though the overall direction and content of the speech was appropriate and needed, in my opinion, those specific words were, at best, unfortunate. The ancient quote stated that, the only new things Muhammad had brought to religion were “bad and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached.”
In reaction, Muslims set fire to seven churches in the West Bank of Israel and burned effigies of the Pope in violent protest around the world. Governments have protested against the Pope, and his planned trip to Turkey is now in jeopardy.
The media coverage of this story has been intense, and certainly, there has been real tension around this incident that should not be downplayed.
However, overreaction and violence are not the whole story. Extremists aren’t the only ones who should have the microphone, or find the camera.
The Pope has worked to make apology and to bring clarity to the intention of his statements, and he should be commended.
It is time for some moderate response and clear leadership from Muslim leaders, and it is starting to happen. Remember, moderate comments don’t make headlines.
Muhammad Habash, director of the Center for Islamic Studies in Damascus, Syria, was quoted in the NY Times today, saying, “it is now our turn for calming the situation.”
Ali Bardakoglu, the top Islamic cleric of Turkey said that the Pope’s, “expression of sadness is a sign that he would work for world peace.”
Admittedly, I have longed for a united front of Islamic leadership, loudly condemning suicide attacks and violence perpetuated in the name of Muhammad and Allah. Those condemnations have seemingly been much too few and far between, or at least rarely reported in our media.
But there are things that moderate, thoughtful Christians ought to get loud about sometimes, too. And most often, we don’t. Fear, uncertainty and apathy should never silence people of faith, whether Muslim or Christian. We have a message that needs to be heard.
Here’s my plan: I want to be a Christian “encountering” people. I want our church to be one that is clearly and unflinchingly Christian, but also open and respectful of others. I want us to build relationships, start conversations, and always, always show love of God and love of neighbor in our actions.
I want us to believe in free speech. We should insist upon our own right to it, and defend that same right for others, even when we don’t like what they have to say. I want us to see the world around us and engage it, positively, in the name of Jesus Christ.
I love those words of Muhammad Habash, and I think there’s a way for us to put them into practice --- somehow, some way, right here in Douglasville, Georgia.
“It is now our turn for calming the situation.”
Grace and Peace,
Adam
LIFE AT SOTH:
Worship Notes: This Sunday will be week three, and the conclusion of the sermon series “Cracking Up,” all about dealing with the pressures of real life. We’ve looked at “time,” and “money,” and this week will be all about family. In keeping with that theme, SOTH will highlight one of its greatest ministries, our Preschool!
Preschool director Leslie Mousa will be on hand to share with us about the excellent work that our preschool is doing, and we’ll have lunch after our 10:00 a.m. service to celebrate our congregation’s connection to all that our preschool does in ministry.
A special offering will be received at the 10:00 service to help support the ongoing progress taking place in our school.
Fall Community Groups: Don’t miss your chance to join a fall community group! Sign-ups will continue this Sunday and more info will be coming to those of you on our prayer/ministry e-mail list this week. Five groups are forming at various times and locations, and groups will begin meeting the week of September 25th.
Our text will be John Ortberg’s If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat, which are available for $12 each outside of our worship space.
UM Men News: Our Rock Eagle Men’s Retreat is this weekend, and we’re excited to announce that SOTH will be sending an entire cabin of 18 men to the retreat! This was an excellent response, and the weekend will be very meaningful for every man involved.
Sep 13, 2006
Boot
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.
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 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.
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