Christmas Gift

My family has handed down a Christmas tradition over the years: "Christmas Gift." During the Christmas season, as a person enters the house, the first one to say the words, "Christmas Gift" is supposed to get a gift from the good people of the house.

I can still recall my late father sitting in his favorite chair watching his football games (what else!) and dryly saying those words. I was grown and with a family of my own. The phrase never failed to elicit smiles and snickers. I don't recall anyone ever getting anything out of it, by the way.

I don't know where this tradition comes from. I do know that it seems very few know about it. I tried it on my congregation just before Christmas this year. As I entered the pulpit, I said, "Christmas Gift! (Real spiritual, I know.) Very few people seemed to get what I was saying. In fact, I asked for a show of hands as to who actually knew about this "tradition." One hand of a lady in choir was all I saw. Anyway, it is a fine and pleasant memory for me.

Now I have another.

It has been a Christmas tradition of mine since 1986, begun at my first church out of seminary in South Texas to go for a run Christmas Day. It was on that date I committed to become a lifelong runner. In part, it may have been due to overeating on Christmas Day. Over the years, my running has slowed down to a jog. Soon, it will probably sag to a slow walk. I hate to think of how much further it could go.

Anyway, this past Christmas, I went to the High School track for my traditional jog. After covering my three miles, I arrived at home to find my youngest son meeting me in the garage with a big grin and a package in his hand. He had his own Christmas gift for me.

He was so proud as he handed it to me. As I walked into the house, I opened the box. There it was.

The instruction manual for my new popcorn popper.

My wife had given me an old fashioned popcorn popper, complete with the bowl in the middle. After I opened it, the instruction manual was not to be found. I went online and found one. Despite the shortcoming, I was able to make fairly decent popcorn after all.

But I missed the manual.

My son had found it, put it in a box, and gave it to me as a gift with a grin.

I was glad to have the instruction book, but I was touched by his childish magic marker scrawl on the box and his resourcefulness in giving me the gift. I was so touched that I took a picture of his gift box and now have blogged about it.

This year, his gift of joy was my favorite.

Christmas Gift.

Alt: Lyrics On Christmas Songs

There is always someone who deliberately changes the words.

Years ago, on a Sunday School outing, it was me. We were playing the game, "Rumor." As we circled up and held hands, a phrase was passed around from mouth to ear. The object of the game is to find out what the original word or phrase was compared to what comes around to the last person in the circle.

I cheated.

I changed the phrase from whatever the original was to something I thought was funny. For some reason, I still remember one "phrase" I changed from its original wording to one of my own- "Creep in the car." Well, my childish mind thought it was funny.

Over the years, Christmas favorite songs have emerged. Also, alternate lyrics for these songs have emerged as well. Two examples will suffice.

The first was taught to me one Christmas by my cousin Kim, who, with her family, would join us to visit grandmother's house every Christmas. Oh, to be able to go back for just a few moments(!) You know by heart the original version, so I share her version:


Randolph the bowlegged Cowboy had a very shiny gun
and if you ever saw it you would turn around and run.
All of the other cowboys used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Randolph join in any poker games.
Then one foggy Christmas eve Sheriff came to say
Randolph with your gun so bright, won't you shoot my wife tonight?
Then how the cowboys loved it as they shouted out with glee
Randolf the bowlegged cowboy, you'll go down in the penitentiary!


Randolph the bowlegged Cowboy had a very shiny gun
and if you ever saw it you would turn around and run.
(I am sure that Randolph had few friends)

All of the other cowboys used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Randolph join in any poker games.

I consider this a brave move, considering Randolph's shiny gun. Another reason I doubt Randolph had many friends.

Then one foggy Christmas eve Sheriff came to say
Randolph with your gun so bright, won't you shoot my wife tonight?

I am aghast at this statement. First, why would a sheriff invite a gunslinger to shoot his wife? Second, why would the guy do it unless he were an idiot? Third, why choose a time like Christmas Eve to do such a dastardly deed? Frankly, all of this is appalling. It would also make very good fodder for an edition of "Nancy Grace." It is all the more appalling that the Sheriff makes this request with such ease, as though he were asking Randolph for a light or something.

Then how the cowboys loved it as they shouted out with glee
Randolf the bowlegged cowboy, you'll go down in the penitentiary!

At last, Randolph gets his just desserts. Much is not said in these lyrics. Randolph apparently took the sheriff's challenge and did the deed. At the very least he's up for attempted murder. Worse, he could be charged with first degree murder. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. It is however, a sad tale sung at Christmas, which should be a happy time.

Finally, for Lagniappe (look it up if you've not from south Louisiana) and because it is Christmas, here is a song taught me by two of my boyhood friends. Actually, I never knew the song had any more lyrics beyond the first three lines. (Admission time: even today when we sing these words in church, I think of the alt:lyrical version.) There, that felt better:

We Three Kings of Orient Are

We three kings of orient are
trying to smoke a rubber cigar.
It was loaded and exploded.
Now we're on yonder star.
Oh star of wonder star of light
hope you see a ghost tonight.
It will haunt you and it will scare you
all the days of your life.

From the heart of D. Holder to you and yours, Merry Christmas!

Alt: Lyrics On School Field Trips

DVD releases of movies often declare that they include "alternate endings," and "director's cuts." These alternate endings add a new take on the original production.

Likewise, old songs can be subjected to alternate lyrics and complete rewrites. The sense of the song is still there, if not the tune, but the message is completely different. I can recall vividly this song which we elementary students sung when we went on our yearly school fieldtrips. Those yearly fieldtrips were the only times I heard anyone singing these words:

Glory, glory, halleujah!
Teacher hit me with a ruler,
Met her at the door with a loaded forty-four,
And I ain't seen the old goat yet.

Admittedly the lyrics are childish. There are also alternate versions of this lyrical take, such as:

Glory, glory, halleujah!
Teacher beat me with a ruler,
I knocked her to the floor with a loaded forty-four,
And that teacher don't teach no more.

The first set of lyrics seems a bit less violent. The teacher is not explicitly shot or killed, but is merely missing. Perhaps he/she merely left the country.

In the second set of lyrics, the teacher has obviously met his/her demise.

Now, these songs were sung joyfully on fieldtrips with full knowledge of our teachers. Since we were on an outing, perhaps they gave us a bit of slack and overlooked the obvious violence in favor of good natured fun.

Today, I wonder if a child singing these words would be expelled.

Guns at school are no laughing matter. Threatening a teacher with a gun or shooting a teacher or student isn't funny. Too much of the world's violent ways have made their inroads into our schools. In recent years, one can recall many recent shootings and armed confrontations at various schools.

Add to the fact that even younger students resort to violence and shooting to settle scores. Somehow, the innocence of it all has long passed us by. For us, it was all in fun and our teachers understood that. Today, singing songs like we did at school sponsored events would likely today get us expelled and even charged with making terroristic threats.

I guess too much has happened since I was in elementary school.

A Rare Occurrence In Southwest Louisiana

Last week, residents in our area woke up to find something that they had not seen here in over 25 years- snow! It seemed to disappear as quickly as it came. I took this photo around 8 am. By then, the evidence of our soft white visitor was quickly disappearing.

The picture shows our church office draped in snow. This old house is one of the oldest buildings in our city and is called the "Perkins House" in honor of the Perkins family, who once owned it.

New Conversation

A new interview is posted on my podbean site.

It is a recent interview I did with Dr. David Lowrie. Dr. Lowrie is pastor of the First Baptist Church of Canyon, TX, as well a the new president of the Baptist General Convention of Texas.

He is also an old seminary classmate. Glad to know that some of us have done well since we left seminary.

This is an age where many of the old structures are crumbling. Among them are Christian denominations. Many of them are being challenged to rethink their purpose and mission.

Dr. Lowrie shares his thoughts about the Baptist General Convention of Texas and his vision for it. There is a second half to this interview on church transitions, which I will post at a later date. (That way you'll come back for more!)

You can click the "Conversations With Dr. Dave" icon on the right to listen.

Feel free to share your thoughts.

Potty Mouth

The governor of Illinois apparently has a foul mouth.

And, apparently, his wife does as well.

Allegations are being reported that Rod Blagojevich, the current governor of the state of Illinois, has attempted to sell the senate seat vacated by Barack Obama to the highest bidder. And in the worst way.

Last night, even former presidential contender John McCain got into the act as well.

Plastered across television screens and appearing in news columns has been the text of some comments Blagojevich made about President-elect Obama that were uh, well, unflattering for either man. These words are apparently enough to make a sailor blush. For modesty's sake, news reports have been kind of enough to "bleep" the worst offending phrases. Of course, it doesn't take much imagination to fill in the blanks.

The governor's wife as well seems to have a problem with potty talk. What happened? It used to be considered "unladylike" for a woman to speak this way. To be fair, I believe no man or child need speak this way either.

We are inundated in this society with a variety of words once considered unfit for polite company. Television shows, popular songs and movies, as well as people on the street seem to have little regard for self censorship when it comes to the use of "colorful metaphors." (With a nod of the space helmet to Checkov of Star Trek fame.)

Last night, on the David Letterman show, even John McCain chose to use some "colorful metaphors." While he didn't say them outright, he still "bleeped" himself in an attempt to be a regular funny guy.

I find nothing funny, charming, or respectable about the use of dirty words. I don't like to hear these words accidentally, in jest, or in anger. In fact, I don't like to hear them at all. I certainly don't think they are necessary. I don't think they enhance anyone's status, make them appear cool, or get the point across. I lose respect quickly for anyone who has to resort to foul language.

In fact, years ago, I attended a mandatory sales meeting at the retail store which employed me. During his motivational and informational talk, the presenter thought it necessary to use some choice words, and I don't mean French ones. After this verbal assault, I was deeply offended. For some reason, we were asked to evaluate the presentation. Though it was over 20 years ago, I can still recall my three word evaluation- "Foul language unnecessary."

In fact, I had some "Doctor of Profanity" cards made up. They are intended to be given to those who believe that cussing somehow enhances their status or gets the job done when plain old words won't.

We've all hit our fingers with the hammer. We've all said words we shouldn't have. I was not permitted to use expletives at home, and out of respect for my parents, refused to do so.

Except once.

Mother washed my mouth out with soap. I never cussed in front of her again.

Maybe Governor Rod Blagojevich and his wife need THEIR mouths washed out with soap.

Tunnelvision In Show Business- One Perspective

I have often considered the spoiled, selfish, and often self destructive behavior that movie stars, recording artists, and other "celebrities" seem to have in common. Today I finished the book I got over the Thanksgiving holiday that gives an account of drummer Dick Peterson's experience with his musical group "The Kingsmen." I'm sure you've their most popular- and controversial song- "Louie, Louie."

By modern standards, the account Peterson gives of a musician's life on the road back in the mid '60s is pretty tame. But he does have an interesting take on how money, fame, and adulation of fans affected him and his fellow band members, giving what I believe is a satisfying answer to the question that begins this post:

As first, we accepted the fame and money with innocence and some measure of embarrassment. It didn't take long, however, before we starred believing our own PR. That's when the trouble starts and you begin to lose your identity and perspective. When you come to expect the adulation, when you take the money and constant boot-licking for granted, that's when you lose respect for things that matter and focus on satisfying your immediate desires. Everything- girls, cars, homes, fans,- becomes a hamburger, an easily replaced Happy Meal. With a McDonald's on every block, when you get hungry you just stop and order another hamburger. With so many girls available, that all become just another girl. With so many makes of car to choose from, when you get tired of one or wreck it, you just head to the nearest dealership and buy another model- with cash. With homes never being quite large enough, when one grows too cramped, you trade up into something bigger with better views. When old fans lose interest in you, new fans always come along ready to idolize you and beg for your autograph. Whatever gets you through the day is your only line of sight. In the end, you're left blinded to reality, unprepared for the devastating day when it all comes to an unexpected end.-p. 366.

And indeed it will all, one day, come to a blazing end.

"Behold, I come as a thief. Blessed is he that watcheth, and keepeth his garments, lest he walk naked, and they see his shame." Revelation 16:15 (KJV)

A Birth At Dry Creek

Dry Creek Baptist Camp is a wonderful place of retreat, spiritual refreshment, and personal renewal. Every summer, they host a number of camps for children and youth. Throughout the year, they host events for all ages. Our church financially supports Dry Creek Camp and is proud to do so. Some of our members have served on its board and also been involved in various projects. Our senior adults look forward to the monthly fish frys and attend the annual senior adult retreats. I myself have spent a number of summers with children enjoying the time and getting worn out as well.

Recently, Camp Manager Todd Burnaman, wrote a reflection in his column which appeared in the Dry Creek newsletter. The story is so well written and told that I asked and received his permission to post the story here:

One night as summer was rapidly approaching an end, I left my office and began walking across the campground. The evening's late night feature had finished and the students were dismissed to spend time in youth group devotions before lights out.

As I walked, I passed a group that was obviously having a special time of sharing what God was doing in their lives. Then a little further across the grounds, I began hearing the slightly muffled sound of a camper weeping, as though his face was covered. I began making my way toward the sound when I spotted two guys face down on the ground. My immediate concern was that one had fallen or tripped and was hurt. As

I neared the two guys and realized that Sean, our head counselor, was crying out a very passionate prayer on behalf of the other boy who was weeping. Their faces in the dirt, lying prostrate on the ground, I knew this was a special moment as the camper faced some very real and personal needs for God in his life.

As I write this article, I peer out of the window and see this section of ground.

Is there anything special about it? Why was this the place that this young man met with God? The answer does not lie in the fact that this area drains well, or is a little on the loamy side. It is simply the place that this boy submitted to God's leadership in his life. Forever, this place will be holy, as this was the birthplace of a child of God.

Dry Creek is, and continues to be, the spiritual birthplace of a "host that no man can number."

Blogs and Blog Readers

To date, I subscribe to 240 blogs and blog feeds. I read them every day. It sounds difficult, but it is really easy. I use Newsgator as my aggregator. I have a Newsgator account and use software that logs on to the account, searches for new posts, and then downloads them for me to view in the reader, Netnewswire, at my leisure. It is certainly easier than seeking out each individual website by typing in addresses, or bookmarking them. It's all done painlessly and automatically.

I find reading blogs quite enjoyable. I read pastor's blogs, news and political blogs, music blogs, technology blogs, leadership blogs, Baptist blogs, and blogs of friends and family. It's easy.

Another suggestion for a blog reader if you don't have a Mac (and you really should) is to use Google's reader. In fact any website that includes RSS feeds (Really Simple Syndication) can be picked up by these readers.

If you're having trouble understanding this, think of a magazine subscription. You subscribe to the magazine and you automatically get the latest issues in the mail. These rss readers do the same thing, but do it on the web. It's the fastest way to get updated information. (Assuming, of course, that you want updated information.)

Get a reader and subscribe to this blog. Go ahead, make my day.

Black Friday At One Of My Favorite Places

Our family began the Thanksgiving holidays visiting my wife's parents. We spent one night there and then headed to Dallas, Tx to visit our son, his wife, their dog, her parents and assorted relatives, as well as other folks who showed up. It was a "more is merrier" kind of holiday.

We spent Thanksgiving Day feasting on a very fine meal. For dessert (We were in Dallas!) it was the Cowboys football game. It was hard to get off the perch to do more than visit the restroom and get some more dessert, and get some more dessert, and get some more dessert.

Bright and early on Black Friday -for me, approximately 10:30 am- I visited one of my favorite places. In my way of thinking, it is like entering another world. This store is huge. Out back, vehicles laden with used books, tapes, CD's, and assorted media steadily come and go. This is a store that is constantly changing. Like the old proverb that says you never put your hand twice in the same stream, you will never visit the same bookstore there twice. New arrivals are constantly coming in. Aisles are lined with mobile carts filled with books that are yet to be shelved. They even have a section filled with vinyl records! You know- the way we listened to music at home before tapes, cd's, and mp3's.

There are several bargain areas where I found a few jewels. I found a book on tape for my son- $1! I also found a cassette(!) series of tapes on priorities and time management that still had the shrink wrap on it. I got it for a song. Then there was a stack of CD's that claimed to be "radio serials" for $1! Add to that couple of "best of" cassettes on personal motivation and book about the song "Louie, Louie," and I can honestly say it was Christmas for me. You can have your crowded malls and stampedes at the discount stores. Just drop me off at Half Price books.

I enjoy visiting family and friends in Dallas. They provide a good reason for me to visit what has become my favorite used book store. I'm already looking forward to our next visit.

Quiet browsing among books. What a way to spend Black Friday.

Satan At Church

"Satan is always at the church before the preacher is in the pulpit or a member in the pew. He comes to hinder the sower, to impoverish the soil, or to corrupt the seed. He uses these tactics only when courage and faith are in the pulpit, and when zeal and prayers are in the pew. But if dead ritualism or live liberalism are in the pulpit, he does not mind because they are no danger to him."

-E.M. Bounds, "Winning The Invisible War"

Look Out Larry!

If you'll click on the link on the right, "Conversations With Dr. Dave," you'll find a new episode on my podcast site. It is an interview I did with McCray Dove of the Dove Brothers Quartet. If you prefer, you can subscribe to the podcast via iTunes and always be up to date when new episodes arrive.

Now I know that many of you are not familiar with Southern Gospel music, or even know who McCray Dove is. Not to worry. As a matter of fact, soon I plan to upload an interview with a pastor friend who was recently elected to a denominational post. I want to get his views on denominational issues in general and Southern Baptist issues in particular.

Also, I'll be uploading in the new few weeks an interview I did with the Nelons, a reinvigorated singing group. The Nelons are historically known for their Southern Gospel roots. But this edition of the Nelons, while keeping some of the SG, is branching off into praise and worship as well as other genres of Christian music. At a recent concert I hosted, they brought the house down with their inspired singing and harmonies. On a personal note, Kelly Nelon Clark is a hoot!

So stay tuned. My longtime dream to have Larry King's job is coming true. (In part!)

Lost and Not Likely To Be Found

It appears that an entire church is missing.

The 200-year-old Church of the Resurrection was last seen in July, as Russian Orthodox Church officials were considering reopening the abandoned church. This fall, however, it appears that villagers from the nearby village of Komarovo (northeast of Moscow) dismantled it and sold it off brick by brick, according to a Nov. 13 AP story. A local businessman apparently paid one ruble (4 cents) per brick.

"Of course, this is blasphemy," an Orthodox priest told The Associated Press. "These people have to realize they committed a grave sin."

In poorer, rural regions, vandals or petty thieves regularly steal gilded icons or donations from churches and sell them for alcohol or drugs.

However, this may be the first reported case of stealing an entire church building.-From Preaching Now, Vol. 7, No. 41, November 18, 2008

Now what about those missing from the church?

New Orleans Garden District

Over the years, I have heard many horror stories about the city of New Orleans. I had never been there or even been through there. In fact, despite the fact that I have lived in Louisiana, I have only been there twice: Once to pick up a rental truck and quickly leave town to return it and then this week to attend our Louisiana Baptist Convention.

On Tuesday of this week, I joined some minister friends. I have to use this term because only one of the other three was a pastor. One was an Executive Pastor, one a bivocational Music Minister, and the other a Church Administrator.

The Executive Pastor took us to the uptown Garden District to eat lunch at the Superior Grill, leading one cynic among us to comment that he never heard of a "Mediocre Grill." In fact, the food lived up to its name. As we sat on the patio, with perfect weather, people passing by on the street, and occasional cigarette smoke wafting by, we engaged in a bit of "preacher talk."

"Preacher talk" usually consists of discussion (gossip?) about other preachers and ministers we all know. "Where is so and so now?," someone will ask, usually leading a discussion of other churches the dear brother has served.

There was also the usual critique of the convention and the speakers, coupled with other small talk. Our host/chauffeur/guide/benefactor told fascinating stories of his ministry in New Orleans and of the famous one time pastor of First Baptist, New Orleans, Dr. J.D. Grey. I was riveted.

The meal finished, we took a tour of the garden district as we headed back to the Convention. Our host told stories of the area and pointed out landmarks. We saw Loyola University, Tulane University, and a Notre Dame Seminary. We saw the old location of First Baptist, New Orleans, which is now a Catholic School. Fascinating.

But it was the beauty of the homes that I enjoyed most. They were huge stone structures belying a time when art and construction went together. No telling how much the smallest was worth, either. The tree lined boulevard was lovely. The landmarks were interesting. There is one street blocked off with a guardhouse. Our host told us that the area is so exclusive that no one could even walk down that sidestreet.

I came away impressed. Very impressed. New Orleans has its share of problems. Many of them are endemic to the area. But it is also a place of great beauty and history. It was worth the trip down just to spend a lunch hour with good old/new friends, enjoy conversing with guys like me, soak up the beautiful autumn weather, and see breathtakingly beautiful homes.

I had prejudged the city. I now repent.

Sometimes It Hurts To Be A Parent

I am the father of two fine sons. The oldest is married, living in the Dallas, TX area and is doing quite well. In his growing up days, we had more than one scare that his life was threatened. I've often said that he was spared from life threatening injuries and sicknesses due to the fact that God has a special plan for his life. He's now rejoined the blogging world. CAUTION: He tends to look at the world with much more of a jaded eye than I.

Check it out, if you dare.

That's son #1. Now for Son #2.

Caleb is our youngest son. We adopted him as a newborn baby after his birth mother at age 14 decided to give him up. (Another reason for my passionate pro-life stance.)

He is a very active 12 year old. He is quite small and skinny for his age and not particularly athletic. The other day, he came home wanting me to sign a permission slip for him to try out for the middle school basketball team. He enjoys basketball, but like his father, is not overly talented, due to his size and height and lack of consistent practice.

Eagerly the next morning, he bounced off to school to give his best shot in order to join the team. As I picked him up after school that day, he was down-trodden. "I know I'm going to get cut from the team," he said. He knew that he wasn't as fast, skilled, or as talented as the other boys. Nevertheless, he held on to some bit of hope that he would make the team.

This was a Wednesday afternoon. We went on the church that evening. On the way home, Caleb begged for me to take him to the school to see if his name was on the team roster. As we arrived at the school campus and into the parking lot, he practically had the door open before I could stop the car.

I waited patiently as he trotted to the gym door to see if his name was on the list. One look at his hanging head and slumping steps as he returned told me all I needed to know. "Coach put all the football boys on the team. I didn't make it." I knew he wanted to cry, but because he was with his dad, he resisted as best he could. I wished I could take the hurt away. I tried to tell him he did his best and that other boys also did not make the team. Of course, those words are little consolation in a situation like that.

We arrived home and he, still with a hanging head, beat a path to his room as I explained to his mother what had happened. With her best motherly compassion, she hugged and comforted him. We both wished we could hurt for him. But that would not be fair. I reminded Caleb that life wasn't always fair. I recalled how I hadn't made the first string football team when I was in middle school. Still, I wished I could wave a wand and it would be all better.

Life does have its disappointments.

Sometimes it hurts to be a parent.

Because, After All, It Is Southwest Louisiana

I moved to this area from East Texas. I was told shortly after I arrived that I would need to buy a rice cooker, because rice with a meal here is one of the five food groups. I also discovered that if it is fried, swims. or doesn't eat you first, you will likely find it on the dinner table in southern Louisiana.

The folks who live here also have a different slant on life. They value the family, seem to respect pastoral authority in the church, and love to have a good time. They love parades and none is complete without something to throw at the crowd. "Throw me something, mister!"

This time of year means that it is gumbo weather and time to go hunting for ducks and deer. One man told me that every zoo in Louisiana has two signs outside animal's cages: one that displays the name of the animal and another that lists cooking instructions.

Cajuns here tend to look at life a bit differently than folks living in other areas of this great country.

Aieeeee!

Because I Have So Little To Do...

...I have started a podcast. Podcasts are basically audio files that can be downloaded, listened to live (streamed) or put on your portable mp3 player, like an iPod and carried with you wherever you go. You can subscribe to many- just like a magazine- and receive the latest updates automatically. I subscribe to a number of them myself. There are several software packages that allow you to subscribe to podcasts.



My new podcast is called, "Conversations With Dr. Dave." You can find the link on the right of this blog just below the masthead. You will be redirected to the site with my latest interview. You can subscribe with iTunes, via feed reader, or choose email updates.

I have long enjoyed interviewing people on the radio, often saying that if I could do anything I wanted to do, I would want to have Larry King's job. To get paid to talk to people- how wonderful it would be!

Nevertheless, I will be updating the podcast with new interviews. I will be speaking with musical artists, authors, church leaders, and almost anyone who will let me record them. Check it out.

I'd also be interested if you have any suggestions for potential interviews.

Signing off,

"Larry"

You Think It's Hot Here?

As I passed by this sign today, I couldn't help but wonder....

Rick Warren On Proposition 8

Today I offer this link which features Rick Warren explaining why it is important to keep the legal definition of marriage intact. The initiative is labeled Proposition 8. Proposition 8 would eliminate the right of homosexual couples to marry.

It is apparently an unscripted message for his church members. Those of us in other states need to beware. What is happening in California will likely migrate our way. It is my observation that cultural trends tend to begin on one of our coasts and migrate to the rest of the country. Beware, and be in prayer.

In the meantime, the Wall Street Journal reports that the biggest donor of money to an effort in California to defeat Proposition 8 is:

A) Gay-advocacy organizations?

B) Civil-rights groups

C) The California Teachers Association

The answer is "C."

Surprised?

Finally, the New York Times reports that another ballot initiative would grant rights to animals to "be provided room to turn around, lie down, stand up and fully extend their limbs."

Remember- trends tend to begin on the coasts and extend to the rest of the nation.

Coming soon to the state you're in?

I hope not. I pray not.

ACORNS

Much has been in the press lately concerning the group ACORN and allegedly fraudulent voter applications. Our local paper carried a story today concerning these allegations. The article clearly stated that investigations being done are Republican stunts. I saw on the "Huckabee" program last night two individuals who said they had been registered to vote by ACORN representatives at least 100 times each. 100 times! Would Democrats look the other way if some Republican organization were alleged to be perpetrating voter fraud?

I believe firmly that if any voter fraud is going on, it is not an issue of Republicans vs. Democrats or any political party vs. another. It is a matter of truth and justice.

And true justice knows no political affiliation. Anyone who who concerned about voting integrity and voting rights should want allegations investigated and guilt proven or exonerated.

Regardless of party.

Reflections On 22 Years Of Full Time Ministry

When we last visited, I posted my 10 Reflections on Ministry after 10 years as a full time pastor. Since it is now 20+ years, I thought the list could use an update.

1. Ministry has never been easy. In fact, it is much more difficult than even 10 years ago. A common attitude among many church hopping members is "What Have You Done For Me, LATELY?"

2. Very few men have I kept up with since college/seminary days. However, I have two friends, fellow pastors, who have "stuck closer than a brother" to me. Ironically, we all met in the same association at the same associational meeting over 20 years ago. We still get together for the occasional conference.

3. At my age, experience has hopefully given me wisdom and guided my steps. I'm not nearly as likely to take a risk in or out of ministry as I once was. I fear playing it too safely.

4. I still insist that my seminary training was lacking in many areas. But I also believe that the emphasis on pastor as leader may be swinging back to pastor as shepherd- i.e. "Brothers, We Are Not Professionals," by John Piper.

5. I have had the privilege of being an adjunct professor and a tutor. I really don't miss being a student. It is more fun to be a teacher.

6. I believe my preaching is now swinging back to doctrinal issues. There is a distinct lack of doctrinal preaching in many pulpits. However, doctrine can be incredibly practical. It's all in the presentation.

7. Churches still need dreams, and big ones. But more than that, they need dreamers.

8. There is still no substitute for a loving, compassionate spirit. They may forgive poor preaching, but they will not forget poor pastoring.

9. It is a joy to love and be loved as a pastor. However, I have discovered, as a fellow pastor once observed after encountering hostility in the church directed at him, "I've never been in a church where people didn't like me." I have. It's not fun. But I don't serve merely to please my congregation. There is another One Whom I must please.

10. This pastoral journey is still my passion! The blaze almost went completely out. I tried to quit once. But it was a loving deacon who convinced me to give it one more go. I'm glad I listened!

11. Sometimes, decisions have to be made for reasons which cannot be fully revealed, due to the nature of ministry. This can lead to misunderstandings and conflict in the church.

12. There is a distinct decline in in the trust level of "Joe the Plummer" for ministers in general. People today naturally seem to be cynical of any type of authority figure.

13. Church ministries have to compete more and more with other activities as families crowd their lives with busyness.

14. There is still no substitute for integrity in the life of a minister.

15. I can't get used to younger ministers who use the latest "cool" vernacular in the pulpit, even stooping to use vulgar phrases to appear hip.

16. I believe there are pastors, who, if the truth were known, really don't like people very much.

17. Sunday's always coming.

18. There is a richness of study and experiences I now have to draw upon in preaching and teaching. One of the best things I have done from my early days of ministry is to file my Bible studies, sermons, books, and to keep good records of funerals and weddings.

19. I have been privileged to mentor at least a dozen young men who surrendered to ministry under my ministry. I would love to have a few more.

20. I have learned the hard way that just because Church X in one geographic location is doing it and is growing doesn't mean that it will work in Southwest Louisiana and East Texas.

21. The style of music in the church is not nearly as big an issue to me as the spirit in which it is done.

22. There are churches, some very contemporary in style and philosophy, and some very traditional in style and philosophy, that are experiencing strong growth. The common denominator is God's good hand upon a man's ministry.

23. (One to grow on) After 22 years of full time ministry, with its joys and heartaches, I still love what I do and I get to do it!

Things I Found En Route To Looking Up Other Things

Several years ago, I enjoyed reading a regular newspaper column that had, as I recall, the same title as this post. It was full of interesting trivia and information. I have been unable to determine if that column is still published, however. Perhaps one of this blog's readers can make that discovery.

Anyway, what I found was a list of things I wrote upon celebrating 10 years of full time ministry. For your perusal, I post them here:

REFLECTIONS ON TEN YEARS OF FULL TIME MINISTRY

1. Ministry is not as easy as it once was. The challenge is greater. It never has been as easy as I once thought it was, either.

2. Not as many are traveling with me as began the journey. A recent study revealed that 10 years after seminary graduation, about half of the graduates are no longer in ministry positions.

3. The experiences I have had I would not trade, but I can never get enough experience! I have grown and matured much since seminary days.

4. No one trained me for many things I am doing now. We tend to train good pulpiteers and pastors, but not necessarily leaders.

5. I miss the discipline, fellowship, and networking of the academic environment.

6. I believe my preaching is more exhortational and practical and less doctrinal than in early days. I have focused more on real life issues.

7. Every church needs some sort of dream to pull them along and a plan to realize it.

8. There is no substitute for a loving, compassionate spirit.

9. I have always felt loved wherever I have served, caused sadness when I left, and been missed when I was gone.

10. This pastoral journey is still my passion! In ten years the fire has died down, blazed high, but never gone out.

Now that it has been 20+ years, in an upcoming post, I will update these reflections. The face of ministry has changed in the intervening years.

One thing didn't change: I still love ministry!

The "Me" Church

This video proves that truth is often hid in jest.

Storm Sickness

I just returned from a meeting of ministers from our city. The meeting updated us on relief efforts in our Parish since hurricanes Gustave and Ike came calling. Over 1500 homes were lost in Cameron Parish alone. All the churches there, most of which had just been recently rebuilt, are ruined again. Many people have had enough of hurricanes and are not planning to return to Cameron Parish. Ever.

The city of Hackberry, also in Cameron Parish, has been hit hard with flooding. The same is true of Bridge City, Texas which was almost completely covered by storm surge. Neighboring Orange, TX has also suffered massive flooding.

In our area, places that no one remembers having ever flooding were under water after Ike hit. In fact, the storm surge from the massive hurricane arrived some 20+ hours before the winds and rain did.

All of this has left many people dazed. Some had flashbacks of the aftermath of Hurricane Rita, which hit three years ago. People evacuated for Gustave, but had no money to evacuate for Ike. They couldn't afford the gasoline, food, and other expenses of such a trip. Others were without work during the periods of these hurricanes making landfall, and thus were hit doubly hard.

Added to these facts is the perception that Southwest Louisiana and Southeast Texas didn't get hit very hard because the storm damage is not as visible. You can pass by houses and outwardly, they appear fine, but inside they have mold, water damage, bad smells, and who-knows-what kind of creatures inside.

All of these events and much more has brought our area a massive case of storm sickness. To be sure, many folks have not had damage, and have gone right on with their lives. This week, the Red Cross is shutting down its feeding operations after providing thousands of hot meals.

Folks are still living in motels. Some landlords have evicted their tenants in order to raise the rent and take in new tenants. Some people, barely scratched, are lining up for food stamps and other amenities believing that they are owed such. Some people have even taken to selling relief items to family members. Every church leader this afternoon had some sort of storm story to tell.

But despite the shenanigans, there remains great human need. Thousands of homes need to be "mudded out." It takes a couple of days for a crew of 4-5 people to do the work, meaning that a team sent to spend a week working will only be able to do a couple of homes per crew during that time.

In short, hurricane relief for Southwest Louisiana is going to be a long, long haul.

The ministers and church leaders discussed action plans, expressed their frustrations, swapped stories, and organized for the long haul today. Long after the last chain saw crew packs up their cases, there will be people attempting to get back on their feet.

Which leads me to the real point of this post. Not only is the toll great physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. Imagine having everything you own taken in one fell swoop. Imagine being left homeless, jobless, and having a family to feed and clothe. Imagine having to stand in long lines for supplies, and even face the humiliation of even having to ask for help. Imagine the helpless feeling when you don't know what you are going to do. Imagine doing that twice, three times, in three years.

If you can only imagine, you are getting to close to understanding the psyche of folks in our area. To be sure, many are doing just fine. But many others aren't. Many of them are proud and independent, never expecting, nor asking for help. But remember, fatigue makes cowards of us all, and we have had our share in this area of storm fatigue.

Our churches and people are working together to help as we can with the limited resources we have. I left the meeting thinking of the story of Jesus and crowds of people who had listened to his teaching and by the end of the day were hungry and tired. Jesus asked his disciples to go through the crowd to scare up some food. What they brought back was a few loaves and fishes. The comment made was to the effect, "what is so little among so much?"

We have a little. But we have a lot. We have strong people. We have a strong faith community. We have a sense of helping our neighbors and being independent at the same time.

And we have faith. Those loaves and fishes, given to Jesus, blessed and distributed, fed over 5000 people with plenty left over.

In ministering to the storm sickness of our area, I'm praying for another miracle just like that.

And What A Piece Of Home, Friend!!!

Things don't always translate well from one language to another. In fact the results can be both puzzling and hilarious.

The other day I was surfing the internet and found a website in Spanish. It was apparently a music site, for it mentions an old time rock act, T. Rex. For the fun of it, I decided to experiment with Google's translate feature and did so. If you can figure what in the name of Berlitz these words are intending to say, then "Mr., you're a better man I."

"I have a friend who says that he would like to be a woman, traveling in time to 1972 and brushing Marc Bolan. I do not get to both, which does not prevent me from recognizing the leader of T-Rex to a guy with real class, unique and unrepeatable.

"Electric warrior" is not only where the disc is "Get it on", on the other hand vast, incontestable and perfect cadence with his vicious elegant but that by itself would define the entire genre rock. In this record we also have the best of a type to which no one managed to imitate, nor his verses let alone his attitude. And what a piece of home, friend !!!!!

Needing A Raise

Dr. Hymie Gordon (Mayo Clinic): “By all criteria of modern molecular biology, life is present from the moment of conception.”

Dr. Micheline Matthews-Roth (Harvard University Medical School): “It is scientifically correct to say that an individual human life begins at conception.”

Dr. Alfred Bongioanni (University of Pennsylvania): “I have learned from my earliest medical education that human life begins at the time of conception.”

Dr. Jerome LeJeune, “the Father of Modern Genetics” (University of Descartes, Paris): “To accept the fact that after fertilization has taken place a new human has come into being is no longer a matter of taste or opinion . . . it is plain experimental evidence.”

Rick Warren: At what point does a baby get human rights in your view?
Sen. Barack Obama: Well, I think that whether you are looking at it from a theological perspective or a scientific perspective, answering that question with specificity, you know, is above my pay grade.

SurvivIke.

It was quite an anxious Friday and Saturday.

My family and I prepared and braced to greet the arrival of hurricane Ike. Our area called for a mandatory evacuation only for low lying and mobile home residents. I have bum foot after recent foot surgery. Yes, I know- I picked a real good time for this. We were under curfew since yesterday morning and it continues today. We are getting a bit stir crazy, though I must admit that I haven't been at home this many consecutive hours since I broke my hip.

Our power remained on until about 1 am. Nothing left to do but try to sleep and listen to radio reports of how others were weathering the storm. Those moments were a bit anxious and sleep did not come easy as I wondered what we were in for. Houston and Southeast Texas got it far worse than we did and are in our prayers.

Calcasieu Parish did get some wind and rain, but by far, flooding is the issue. Lake Charles mayor Randy Roach put it well when he was asked to compare hurricanes Rita and Ike. He said that while Rita was destructive with some flooding, Ike brought flooding with some destruction. Places have flooded where people don't remember ever seeing floods before. Many people have had to be evacuated today by emergency personnel. Because of the false alarm with hurricane Gustave, a lack of funds for many to evacuate again, and also due to the mandatory evacuation applying only to low lying areas and mobile homes, many chose to stay home. It was bad, but we have seen worse.

As the wind is dying down, and my power is restored, I can't express enough my gratitude for these blessings and pray for the folks so deeply impacted in Texas and others in the path of the storm.

An old friend, "Ol' Roy," (the man- not the dog) sent me this the other day. I enjoyed it so much I felt is was worth passing on.

He sent it with the disclaimer that he didn't write it- he was just the messenger. But you know, messengers don't have to tell everything they know!

I won't.

Top Ten Reasons Hurricane Season Is Like Christmas

Number Ten:
Decorating the house (with plywood).

Number Nine:
Dragging out boxes that haven't been used since last season.

Number Eight:
Last minute shopping in crowded stores.

Number Seven:
Regular TV shows pre-empted for 'Specials'.

Number Six:
Family coming to stay with you.

Number Five:
Family and friends from out of state calling you.

Number Four:
Buying food you don't normally buy . . . and in large quantities.

Number Three:
Days off from work.

Number Two:
Candles.

And the Number One reason Hurricane Season is like Christmas:
At some point you're probably going to have a tree in your house!

Gustave and Ike

I have to admit that in this case, I don't like Ike. Ike, the hurricane now in the Gulf of Mexico, that is.

Just last week, our family and many others from our entire region made hasty plans to evacuate in the face of the coming hurricane, Gustave. I spent the better part of two day boarding up the house, getting things out of the yard and into the garage, and otherwise tying down what was loose. Then there was gasoline and supplies to buy, as well as other preparations that needed to be made. Gustave just skirted our area but lowered the boom on Baton Rouge and points to the south and northwest.

It was no fun to feel the stress and uncertainty of exactly when and where the storm might strike. It was certainly no fun (and not cheap) to make an evacuation run to my son's house in the Dallas area. All along the route, traffic was heavy, gas stations were crowded, and fuel pumps often covered with a plastic bag to indicate that they were out of fuel. No vacation here.

The storm passed. We get the "all clear" word and join a convoy headed south. More stress and time. As we arrive home, exhausted, we hear another storm is brewing and possibly headed our way. Thoughts of moving to safer locale did enter my mind.

But then, another thought came. If I moved to California, I would have to contend with mudslides, wildfires, and earthquakes. Much of the middle Atlantic states this year faced tornadoes and floods. The northwest areas often deal with subzero cold temperatures and long winters. Most of these weather events give little time to prepare for their arrival.

We have been praying for the victims of Gustave and want to help, but with Ike's uncertainty that has been something on hold. Last night, our church hosted a prayer meeting for safety and protection from the storms. Now we are praying for the folks on the Texas coast who may have an unwanted arrival on their doorsteps by week's end.

You can run but you can't hide. The best thing I think you can say about hurricanes is at least there is some advance warning.

To be forewarned is to be forearmed.

Many times I could use four arms!

Those Who Live In Glass Houses Shouldn't Put Lipstick On Pigs

Much has been made of Barack Obama's comment about putting lipstick on a pig. Some have contended that it is a veiled reference to McCain's vice presidential running mate, Sarah Palin. Seen that way, his comments would be an insult.



But John McCain himself made a similar comment:



The point? I am a public speaker. At least three times a week, and often more, I address groups of people. That amounts to a whole lot of hot air. With the making of many words, there is bound to be a blooper or two. Add the element of fatigue and the stress of a presidential election, the viral effect of the internet where any potentially foolish statements made by a politician will take on a life of its own, it is a small wonder that there are not more misstatements being publicized. I'd hate to have some of my off the cuff remarks, feeble attempts at humor, or some of my pulpit bloopers make their appearance on the internet.

Many times, I've said things publicly that I wish I had not. Unlike blogging, when one is speaking, there is no chance to edit statements before the "return" button is pushed. Just a couple of weeks ago, our church held a luncheon welcoming teachers at the school across from our church back for the new school year. Being called on for a few "words of welcome" and to "say the blessin'" I did my best to make the teachers feel appreciated and loved by our church. I should have stopped there. But, no, a fleeting thought of humor entered my mind and exited my mouth. What I was attempting to do was relish aloud the opportunity to have these teachers listen to me for a change after all the years I had to listen to teachers. I had some sort of notion of now being control. I tried to state this fact with a smile and humor. Honestly, I can't recall my exact words, but instead of hoots of laughter all I got was stunned silence, and a feeling of my cheeks suddenly getting red.

So being quick on my feet, I said, "Let's ask the blessing on the food," and proceeded to do so, with high hopes that the food would remove the memory of a foolish preacher trying to make a joke that wasn't well thought out and certainly wasn't funny.

So instead of my disgust, Obama has my sympathy.

CNN Heard Me?

In my last post, I wrote about CNN's breathless promise to deliver the Democratic National Convention Live!, Unfiltered! and Gavel to Gavel! I also noted that they promptly began to break that promise by breaking in, filtering out speakers on the platform, and using their political analysts to opine in real time what the Democrats should be doing as opposed to what they were actually doing on the platform.

Apparently CNN read my blog.

I have carefully noted (to myself) for the past three days that these Live! and Unfiltered! graphics are no longer on the screen. Nothing else has changed about the broadcast except this aspect. The commentators are adding their views and not all the speakers on the platform are being heard for their full speeches.

CNN has more money and influence than I do. It can certainly do as it wishes. Just do what what you say you are going to do. Now they are.

Did CNN hear me?

CNN Is A.D.D

When i returned this evening from a night out on church visitation- on my birthday, no less!- the Democratic Convention was LIVE! on my television. A graphic on the screen proclaimed that the speeches from the floor would be Live!, Unfiltered!, and Gavel to Gavel!

"At last," I thought, "A gavel to gavel convention with just the facts." As Sen. Ted Kennedy took the platform to speak and as he spoke, CNN did just as it promised. It broadcast his speech Live! and Unfiltered! The evening was promising.


However, it didn't take long for the network to shift its focus and exercise Attention Deficit Disorder. After the senator from Massachusetts spoke, others also took the platform to make their speeches. All of a sudden, the expert commentators at CNN began to speak out and criticize the choice of speakers and the message of the convention. A couple of them complained about Jim Leach's speech. All of this was done with the commentators' sound bites drowning out the speaker.

The panel of commentators then offered their suggestions for what the Democrats should be doing on prime time television. Everybody is an expert on somebody else's business these days, it seems.

Not only that, but CNN took the liberty to cut away and show commercials and promos, something that interloped between the promised gavel to gavel bookend coverage.

So what CNN did was the exact opposite of what the graphic promised. Live? Yes. Unfiltered? No, as long as commentators "filter" what is being said on the floor. Gavel to gavel? No, as long the network breaks away for commercials.

Oh well. Two out of three ain't bad.

Singin' With The Perrys

I've hosted, attended, and watched Southern Gospel music concerts too numerous to mention. Sometimes I was thrilled, other times moved, and occasionally bored. I am now blogging, having just turned the lights off at the church after hosting the Perrys. This concert came with only about three weeks notice and only because the original host had a fire in their building.

Well, the fire was burning tonight. It's been a long time since I've hosted a concert here with the crowd clapping, standing, and raising hands like this one did. It was an outstanding concert. The program was just right and the Perrys sang their hearts out.

But what I appreciate most is their spirit. After the concert, I did an interview with them for my radio show. I asked them about being plugged into a local church and how it has benefited their ministry. They told me how they had actually moved in order to be a part of a church in the Nashville, TN area. Bass singer Tracy Stuffle and his son attend a Bible study there each Tuesday morning at 6:00 am. The Perrys have a deep commitment to the ministry of song and to the propagation of the Word. It shows- it shows in their music and in their attitude. They are not up there to thrill the audience with how high the tenor can sing or how low the bass can go. They are there to minister.

Libbi Stuffle told me how important it was for them to be grounded in the word. Some would suggest that singing gospel music got you in church several days a week. Not so, says Libbi. You've got to be grounded in God's word. I admire that attitude.

No wonder they are considered by many to be the best mixed quartet in the business. Talent they have, but commitment to ministry is their greatest asset.

Time To Run

With a nod to the Olympics, I offer this bit of wisdom:

The apostle Paul used the metaphor of athletic competition to describe the Christian life, saying in effect: "Run the race, believer, the prize is waiting." (Philippians 3:12-14)

In Hebrews, the writer encourages Christians to run the race which God has set before them. Jesus ran, even though his course included the cross (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Every day in Africa a gazelle wakes up. It knows that it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed.

Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows that it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn't matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle. When the sun comes up, you'd better be running. (Media Management Newsletter)

Here's a news flash: The sun's up

Church Slogans

I'm Cuckoo For Second Baptist Church.

Enter a word for your own slogan:

Generated by the Advertising Slogan Generator. Get more Second Baptist Church slogans.

They used to be a bit more popular than they are today. Church slogans. You'd see them on letterheads, the sides of church vans, in the bulletins, and on other printed material. I have not been one to get on the church slogan bandwagon. Frankly, most of them seem to me to be a bit on the cheesy side.

For example:

"Where Everybody is Somebody and Jesus is Lord."
Why is this true at this church? Is this not true EVERYWHERE? Whether you attend that church or not, you are still somebody and Jesus will always be Lord.

"Where Jesus is Lord."
See the above

"Where the Bible is believed, preached, and taught."
Ok. Is there a valid New Testament church that would actually say that it doesn't believe the Bible, preach it, or teach it?

"A Going Church for a Coming Lord."
Actually, I like this one a bit better. It has a nice balanced ring to it. However, no one has bothered to define exactly where this church is going.

"The End of Your Search for a Friendly Church."
I learned a long time ago that most people are not looking for a friendly church; they are looking for friends. In fact, I read some research material this week that suggested that churches are not perceived to be as friendly by outsiders as those inside them perceive them. But who among church members will not say that theirs is a friendly church? Besides that, I also learned a long time ago that if you have to say it yourself, it probably 'taint so.

My Favorite:
"Home Of the Crater Of Diamonds."
Most churches use some sort of spiritual, biblical, or Christological theme. This slogan was printed on the side of the church van in Murfreesboro, AR when my friend, Rick was pastor. He enjoyed pointing out that his church followed a more chamber of commerce theme over something more theological. It certainly was unique, and Rick endlessly enjoyed pointing out that he was from the "Home Of The Only Diamond Mine In North America."

In fact, a favorite memory has Rick and I in that van returning from one of our Doctor of Ministry classes in Little Rock, AR. For some reason which I now cannot recall, he was in a hurry to get home.

Hurry means speed, and speed he did.

Right down the Interstate.

Right past a prominent deacon in the church who was also returning home from Little Rock in his car.

I have often wondered what this deacon must have thought as he watched his pastor and a fellow pastor, in church van, speeding down the highway.

Fortunately, I'm told, the subject never came up.

It reminds me of a slogan I used to see on bumper stickers many years ago: "Speed on, brother....."

I'll leave the rest to your memories.

Politics In The Church

Last Saturday night, pastor Rick Warren hosted the "Saddleback Civil Forum." There he featured the two potential candidates for president this year, Sen. Barack Obama and Sen. John McCain.

To my knowledge, this was the first time a live forum featuring presidential candidates has been broadcast from a church. As the Forum began, Warren said that he does believe in separation of church and state, but not separation of faith and politics.

One commentator, coming from a Catholic background, criticized the choice of a church setting for such an event stating that it would best have taken place in a fellowship hall. He did not believe that a place dedicated to worship should be used for any other purpose other than worship. He noted that the Vatican has outlawed the use of the sanctuary for even such things as concerts.

I can respect his view on the sanctity of space. He viewed the place of worship as holy and set apart for no other purpose other than worship. I had to ask myself about our use of the auditorium. How many events have we held there that have little connection with worship? I don't believe the church should become just another stage, but I am not sure I have always considered just how some view the platform of a church as holy ground.

On the other hand, there are those who view the church auditorium, sanctuary, worship center, or some other term just as any other available space. They see nothing particularly holy about a platform inside a church.

I was taught as a child that the church building is God's house. As such, it should be respected and not treated like someone's living room. Today, people come to worship on Sunday morning chatting on cell phones, bringing coffee or drinks inside, or dressing in such ways as to leave little to the imagination. I'm not sure that this is showing proper respect to a place dedicated to the worship of God.

Still, I do not believe that hosting candidates for president and asking them publicly for their views on a variety of issues, moral and political, is inappropriate for a church. As Warren said, "We do not believe in separation of faith and politics."

In or out of the church.

What Michael Phelps And I Have In Common

I have long enjoyed the pageantry and athletic competition of the Olympics. My favorite events are in the track and field area. Here, athletes compete against one another and the clock. This is unlike, for example, such events as gymnastics where the athlete performs in front of a judge who grades the performance. And what's up with things like shooting? Pardon me, but it seems like such events as this are not truly "athletic competition."

One hero who has emerged during the 2008 games in Beijing is Michael Phelps. As of this writing, he has earned seven gold medals and is closing in on a record breaking eighth gold medal for one Olympics. One of the curious questions on the minds of many has been "What is Michael Phelps listening to on his iPod?" Just before his heat, Phelps can be seen with those ubiquitous white earbuds plugged in to his head.

In a recent article, Phelps revealed that he listened to hip-hop music to get himself motivated before a race.

Bingo. He and I have that in common.

Let's be sure of one thing- I can barely tread water, much less swim competitively. And I DO NOT enjoy hip-hop music. But I once donned football gear and banged bodies on the gridiron. In the afternoon before the game that evening, I would sit in my room with my record player and spin records and got myself pumped up. It did. In fact, just before a game, I came alive. I went wild with an red faced rush. Guys would wonder where I had been during practice. Truth is, I loved to play the game, but didn't like to practice. I learned the hard way that players who won't practice hard won't play in the game.

Nonetheless, I turned on the tunes to get me motivated. I specifically remember loving to listen to "Won't Get Fooled Again" by the The Who. (Yes, I said The Who. In those days the term "Contemporary Christian Music" was an oxymoron.) I could feel the pulse pounding and the adrenaline flowing. I was motivated and ready to play. Unfortunately, for reasons mentioned above, I rarely got to play in the game.

Later in life, as a pastor, when the music is right, when it flows, I am ready to preach. I think my best preaching is done when I truly worship during the music portion. A preacher friend of mine recently said that by the time he took the pulpit, the music had already prepared the way for the message and he was pumped and ready. I have told worship leaders with whom I have served on the platform, "If you will set the table, I'll serve supper, and we'll all enjoy dessert."

Music motivates the soul (and body.)

That is what Michael Phelps and I have in common.

A Saturday Bonus- Because I Like Signs

Somehow things get lost in translation....

Camp Disney

I have been offline here recently, as one of my "fans" has pointed out. I made a commitment to blog at least twice a week when I began to blog. Alas, I haven't kept my commitment. But I am sure my "fans" will forgive me this time.

It is due to a trip to Disney World and then to Children's camp. Not so much the busy activity, for I like to reflect and write. It is due to a lack of internet access.

At Disney, one could get on the 'net in one's room. However, the computer has a crazy interface that somehow carries you back to a screen advertising upgrades and Disney vacations. Based on their shrewd marketing techniques, I believe that this is no accident. The other option was to join the wifi network in my room. You could do that if you were willing to pay $5.00 for an hour or $10.00 for a whole day. I wasn't willing. I know it sounds silly, after things like a $45 plus 18% tip character breakfast with my son Caleb, who was delighted. But you have to draw the line somewhere. (Breakfast is a need; wifi a luxury.)

So not much time on the net means no blog entry.

We returned Saturday evening. I had many duties on Sunday, (I am still a pastor) and I had to repack for PreTeen camp. PreTeen camp is at Dry Creek, Louisiana. Not only is the creek dry, but so is the cell phone access. I had no bars in most locations. Now, if you stood on one foot and held the device just right in just the right place, you might get a bar to appear. Simple pleasures!

At Dry Creek, they frown on cell phones, iPods, radios, and such. Thus, no internet access there except for wifi near the office. But with a crowded schedule, the heat, and the principle of the thing, I didn't blog there either. Besides, there is something out of place about blogging from children's camp to me.

Anyway, I am back in the land of the living, sitting in my living room, blogging away.

Simple pleasures are the best.

A Song In My Head

Every now and then, just before waking up, I enter that misty, twilight-like zone of very light sleep. During this time, I have dreams that I can recall after waking up. This was one of those mornings. I dreamed I was trying to get to church on time. I drove past the church onto the grounds of a hospital near the church. In real life, there is no hospital near the church. It was an interesting dream, given the fact that I had to get up and get moving to get ready for church this morning.

But it was the background music playing in my head that I enjoyed most.

The song was "Tighter, Tighter," by Alive And Kicking. It is a very pleasant, upbeat song that speaks of love and cuddles. As I showered and dressed, the song played in my head. Normally, on the way to church I like to listen to "The Gospel Greats" with Paul Heil. Somewhere I had read that if you would play the song you hear in your head, it would go away. As I slid into my car, I knew the song was on my trusty iPod. I clicked the wheel to "Artists," and found "Alive and Kicking." The next step was to highlight the song and play it. I did.

I drove to church in a wistful mood. When I hear this song, my mind goes back to my friend Larry playing the 45 record on his record player. I am about 13 years old, just discovering being a teen, and the world is my oyster. I am transported back into time for a brief, shining moment and it is absolutely wonderful.

Tonight, on our return to church, I played the song for my wife. She enjoyed the tune as she clasped my hand in hers. I then romantically said that I enjoyed the song too, because I was reminded of my old best friend Larry playing it on his record player, and those wonderful/dreadful teen years.

"Oh," she said, "I thought it reminded you of me."

"Duh, wrong comment," I thought to myself. I did my best to recover from this gaffe, but I don't think Deborah bought it. Oh, well, the song and whatever memories it stirs in me are a momentary respite. I am refreshed and ready for the day. A good way to wake up, it is.

And by the way, playing the song got it out of my head. The advice worked.

After writing this post, I just can't now get it out of my head.

Because You Noticed

On Being Bilingual

My wife and I spent a few days in Houston last week. Our youngest son was at Centrifuge (Youth Camp) in Mississippi, so we took advantage of the opportunity. We were able to see the Astros play (They lost in the 10th inning), and see a new play at the A.D. Theater. We saw the play in a preview mode. The season hadn't actually opened, so the players pulled up chairs on stage and chatted with those in the audience who cared to stay when the play was over. I found the play and the discussion afterward enjoyable and entertaining. The message was distinctly Christian. In fact, the stage reminded me of a few of those country churches in which I've pastored and preached. I highly recommend the play. I'm not so sure about the Astros!

Anyway, wherever we went, we heard Spanish being spoken. I was reminded of my days right out of seminary on the border of Mexico. When I agreed to come to Falcon Heights Baptist Church, I agreed to learn Spanish. I took classes in McAllen and listened to Spanish conversation very carefully. I even learned a few words and phrases. Our oldest son, in preschool, came home speaking the language. If we had stayed in the Valley longer, I am positive he would be fluently bilingual.

I wish I'd learned to speak Spanish.

I believe that in a few years, Spanish will become almost a necessity. Here in Louisiana, we have public school classes that teach French. My son, Caleb, has been in one class and was happy to recite what he learned. But I don't believe that in the years ahead that there will be much of a need for French speakers. We are not exactly being inundated with French speaking people. But we are seeing a growth in the Spanish speaking population.

Being an Anglo in the Valley, I would often enter a store or come up to a group of people speaking Spanish. When they saw me, they would usually shift to English, if they could. Sometimes, when they didn't want me to hear what they were saying, they would shift from English to Spanish. How often I would wish I could retort in Spanish that I knew exactly what they were saying!

But alas, I never learned Spanish.

Learning a second language ought to be required in school. I know some schools require it, but not all. And Spanish should be the required language. In college, I chose to forego Spanish and took Greek instead. I know no one who speaks Greek, but it is the original language of the New Testament, which has helped me immensely in my Biblical studies. But I did have the opportunity to learn Greek in Seminary.

So I wish I had learned Spanish.

I know what some think- "Let them learn English." I agree. But I think it is also good for all of us to learn a second language.

I wish I had learned Spanish.

Church Spirit

My good friend and comrade, Dr. Rick Hyde, forwarded this to me this weekend. Since he is a blogger himself, I am honored he would pass this on to me, knowing my love for a good church sign.

He comments: (Hmm ... liquor at wedding receptions and revivals ... why not?) Since I don't imbibe ... I had to think on this one for a moment. My mind kept sticking on E.J. Daniels, a famed tent evangelist of yesteryear who has since gone on to glory.

Actually, this sign is a good illustration of the fact that "you know sometimes words have two meanings." At first blush, this sign appears to announce a revival featuring liquor. No doubt, a few head were rolling. (No pun intended!)

In reality, the sign is announcing a revival featuring Jack Daniels as the evangelist. Daniels happens to be from Louisiana, where he preaches a number of revivals around our state. Likely, he gets a lot of mileage out of his name as he travels.

The only spirit this Jack Daniels shares is the Holy Spirit.

Many Paths To Heaven?

The New York Times this morning ran an article which included this statement:

Although a majority of Americans say religion is very important to them, nearly three-quarters of them say they believe that many faiths besides their own can lead to salvation[.]

These findings are troubling for those of us who accept Jesus' statement (John 14:7) that He is the only way to heaven. If one gets to heaven via majority opinion, then Jesus is just as good a way as any. If one takes the words of Jesus himself seriously, then public opinion is sadly mistaken.

Heaven is not filled by majority vote. I personally could wish it were true that there were many ways to heaven. I don't like to consider the alternative for those who reject Jesus Christ as the the only way to heaven. But if I accept the truth of scripture and the claims of Christ, there is no other alternative.

Jesus is not just another way to heaven. He is the ONLY way.

And this is not my opinion.

Billy Goats, Doctors, and Lawyers

I just finished a book about Dr. John R. Brinkley. Brinkley was known as the "goat gland doctor." He transplanted goat glands into male patients to restore male virility. The $750 operation was quite pricey in during the roaring twenties and the depressing thirties, but enough patients submitted to Brinkley's knife to make him a millionaire.

I was interested in the story because Brinkley was also an early radio pioneer. He built his first radio station in Milford, Kansas and used it prescribe medicine over the air (to his licensed pharmacies), and to share his folk wisdom as well as preach the gospel on Sundays. Brinkley became something of a folk hero.

Later, after being run out Kansas, he established a "borderblaster" radio station in Mexico across the river from Del Rio, Texas. Brinkley's station was so powerful that he could be heard at night anywhere in the United States. People living near the station could hear Brinkley's broadcasts over their fence wires and even their dental work. The directional transmitters emitted a green radiant glow at night. People venturing near his transmitter would find their hair standing on end. Unfortunate birds passing by could be electrocuted.  Later the Russians would monitor borderblaster transmissions to improve their English skills.

As a result of his borderblasting, Brinkley ran afoul of the FCC and the Mexican government. A shrewd man, he was able to pull political strings to stay on the air.

His eventual undoing came as he faced the wrath of Morris Fishbein ("Old Fishy," he called him) and the budding American Medical Association. Besides charging him as a quack, the AMA challenged his medical education, despite the fact that many other physicans of the time had even more questionable credentials than Brinkley.

One great sticking point for the AMA was Dr. Brinkley's advertising his medical services over the radio. It was then considered unethical for a doctor to advertise. Because of Brinkley's use of the airwaves to solicit clients for his "operations," he was prosecuted and hounded.

Frankly, I think things were better when doctors and lawyers did not advertise.

There was a time when attorneys as well as doctors would not use print or airwaves to hawk their services. Today, I can't pick up a phone book, turn on a radio, or look at a newspaper and not see doctors and lawyers offering themselves to the world. In the case of lawyers, big cash settlements are dangled before the potential client. One physician in our area incessantly offers his services on morning television as a weight loss surgeon. HIs name has become quite familiar across southwest Louisiana.

Now we have people who believe that if some accident occurs, someone needs to pay them and pay big. At the first sign of a toxic release of some gaseous substance from a plant in our area, ads appear the next day in our local paper. Other ads show satisfied clients flashing big checks at the camera as a result of money an attorney got for them as a result of a car accident.

These elements have helped create a subculture of entitlement, a belief that if I am injured or mistreated, someone must pay- in cash. The American public is also led to believe that a medical operation can help them lose weight and regain lost self esteem. I am not disputing these claims. I am just questioning the ethics of making them public.

Dr. Brinkley was a quack and I would never impugn the professional skills publicly of any doctor or lawyer. But promising people incredible outcomes with a simple operation or court case keeps the spirit of Dr. Brinkley alive.