The King of Mayberry...

(photo from www.themainman.com)

I have mentioned already that I love classic rock. I have also mentioned the fact that I'm an outside the box kind of guy with a rather warped sense of humor. Now I'm admitting that I'm just a little bit of a redneck. Now, I've got some class, don't get me wrong, but every now and then my inner redneck shows through. If you are a redneck, who loves classic rock, and has a warped sense of humor, there is only 1 early morning radio show for you...Johnboy and Billy.

Yep, I have to have my daily dose of my two favorite rednecks. You don't have to agree, but it works for me. Johnboy, or Mr. Boy to some, is an Andy Griffith fanatic. He prides himself on his knowledge of Andy Griffith trivia and on occasion will turn it into a call in game. After defeating the call in guest, as he usually does, he will say, "I am the king of Mayberry! All Hail me!"

Now, why have I brought this up? When I was reading the texts for this morning, the old Testament texts were from 1 Samuel 3, 4, and 5. In 1 Samuel 5, the Philistines have captured the ark of the covenant during battle with Israel and have taken it to Ashdod, to the the temple of Dagon, their god. They carried the ark into the temple and placed it beside Dagon. The next morning, Dagon was laying on the floor in front of the ark of the covenant. They sat him back up, but the next morning, he was on the floor again, minus his head and hands.

You've heard me say before that being humbled is not my favorite thing. I'm more of a "I am the king of Mayberry, all hail me!" kind of guy. Or at least I used to be. If being humbled is not one of my favorite things, being humbled by God is at the very top of my least favorite list, especially when it's not my idea. Steph has told me that I have authority issues, but I just tell her that as long as I have the authority, there are no issues.

This morning's reading reminded me that no matter how important I think I am, there are still multiple opportunities for lessons in humility. I doubt that Dagon had ever thought (if Dagon could think) that one day, he would be prostrated on the floor in front of the God of Israel without his head and hands. I doubt that Johnboy ever thought he would get beaten at Mayberry Trivia, but it happened.

So, here's my thought for the day I guess. Be confident in who you are, I don't think that's a problem at all. But at the same time, keep that confidence in check with daily doses of humility. It's a lesson that I struggle with daily, but one that I do struggle with. Because no matter how big we think we are (and in my position, who we think we are can go straight to our heads) there is someone much bigger sitting beside us.

Peace

J

Lean On Me...

(photo from http://www.uulyrics.com/)

Bill Withers nailed it. Number 205 on Rolling Stones 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. It was his first and only Number 1 hit, recorded in 1972. We have even played it at church before, not because of the catchy little riffs, but because of the message. Here's the lyrics if you don't remember them, written by Bill Withers.

"Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain, we all have sorrow. But if we are wise we know that there's always tomorrow.

Lean on me when you're not strong and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on. For it won't be long till I'm gonna need somebody to lean on.

Please swallow your pride if I have things you need to borrow. For no one can fill those of your needs that you don't let show.

If there is a load you have to bear that you can't carry, I'm right up the road, I'll share your load if you just call me.

So just call on me brother when you need a hand, we all need somebody to lean on. I just might have a problem that you understand. We all need somebody to lean on.

Lean on me when you're not strong and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on. For it won't be long till I'm gonna need somebody to lean on."

Ok, confession time...how many of us have more than 10 people that we really lean on? Who know you at your absolute worst and love you anyhow? Now, how many of those are outside our families? Good friends? For me, I might have 10 outside the family that I trust enough to let them see me at my weakest, but I'm pretty sure it's not more than 10.

Paul talks about this some in 2 Corinthians. He says this: "For when we came into Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, but we were harrassed at every turn - conflicts on the outside, fears within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus..."

We don't realize the impact we have on the folks around us by either, being there when they need someone, or by turning away when they need someone. Both leave huge impressions. I have lots of friends, and most of them I know I could go to with just about anything. However, there are only 3 or 4 people outside my family, that I could go to with absolutely anything. They have seen me furious, stomping and cussing (hey, cut me some slack, I wasn't always a preacher, and still, if I hit my finger with a hammer...just saying), they have held me while I cried, and the whole while without judging me. I admit, it's a very small inner circle, but I do have one.

I think that what Paul is hitting on here is actually both sides of the coin. We need those people in our lives that we know we can lean on, no matter what. But at the same time, we need to be able to allow ourselves to do the leaning. For me, that is the tough part. It's easy for me to be the one that folks lean on, I've been trained for that. It's not so easy to let go and do the leaning myself. "Please swallow your pride if I have things you need to borrow. For no one can fill those of your needs that you won't let show."

Yeah, I said it...it boils down to pride. Distrust does figure into that, but even that might be born out of pride. I know that's the excuse I use. For me, I don't fully trust folks until they make the inner circle, but I know it's just an excuse.

The bottom line is this...life deals us a bunch of junk sometimes. But at the same time, just as Titus did for Paul and the others, there are folks in our lives that can make the difference if we allow ourselves to lean on them. So, if there's a load you have to bear, that you can't carry, I'm right up the road, I'll share your load if you just call me.

Peace
J

I'm a Member of a Country Club...

(Phote from www.destination360.com)

(WARNING...COULD BE OFFENSIVE TO SOME...PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

I'm not a huge golfer. About once or twice a year I get the urge to go out and lose a bunch of golfballs. That's how I roll. I don't keep score on that little white score card. I keep score by keeping up with how many golfballs I have left at the end of 18. I enjoy it, but it frustrates me to no end, so that takes a lot of the fun out of it for me. I don't have the fancy shoes...my golf clubs came from a yard sale...and my golf bag came from Walmart. I do have a Ping putter, but it was a Christmas gift.

When we moved to Hickman, I thought, "We may actually join the country club and then I can start playing golf again." Well, no. That didn't happen. First, I couldn't justify the expense. Dues are expensive. Second, I knew I wouldn't have time to play until the house was finished, because it was eating up what spare time I had. Third, I think I had rather just go fishing than to spend all afternoon looking for a little white ball in a creek somewhere.

It would have been cool though, I guess. And please understand that I'm not disrespecting country club members. The girls could have used the pool, and Steph could have gotten to know some of the other women in town, because bless her heart, my job sure drags her around a lot. She never gets to stay in a place long enough to really know folks when she walks into the grocery store, and this could have helped her make more friends down here. But we didn't, or haven't yet, and who knows, maybe one day we will if the finances improve and we feel we just can't make it without it.

I have actually heard folks call some churches country clubs. Folks join them based on the services they provide, and I may catch some flack over this next comment but here goes...As I looked at some of the pictures posted on facebook about things that other churches had done this week, I saw all kinds of pictues about egg hunts, some of them even with big Easter Bunnies, but I saw very few pictures a worship service. There were some, but not with the smiles and laughing faces that the egg hunt pictures had in them.

Now, please don't get me wrong, I'm all about reaching out to our kids, and I'm not saying there was anything wrong with the thousands of eggs that were hidden Saturday. It's just that I read from 2 Corinthians today and it got me thinking. Paul is talking about all that he has endured for the faith and it made me ask myself, "Am I a country club Christian?" My personal answer is, "I hope not." But sometimes I wonder.

2 Corinthians 6 says, "Rather as servants of God, we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships, and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments, and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights, and hunger..." and the list goes on. This statement, combined with the things we talked about in a meeting I went to yesterday hit me like I haven't been hit in a while.

We don't make disciples anymore, we try to make folks happy...if they're happy, they'll come...if they come our parking lot will be full...if our parking lot is full people will talk...if people talk, the number on the roll will go up...if the number on the roll goes up, my bishop will see me as an effective pastor. Now please hear me, this is not a commentary on the church I'm serving now. We actually offer very little fluff and for that I'm proud of them; but for some reason, it's actually growing. We didn't do a big egg hunt, and we don't have all the bells and whistles, but for some reason, that I haven't put my finger on yet, God is moving here.

I think it's time for me to rethink my role as shepherd. I've not been called to be a member of a country club. I've been called to be a disciple maker. So, disagree with me if you want. I'm a big boy. You can text your comments to BR549. But I think it's time to rethink how we've been rethinking church. First Church, look out, we're going to start making disciples.

Peace

J

A Love Story...

Ok, maybe it's because I'm done with Judges and have moved on to Ruth...maybe it's because I watched "The Sound of Music" last night with my girls and my estrogen level is dangerously high...but the passage for today is one of the greatest love stories ever told. (I'm really just a big ol' teddy bear at heart)

Now, this story is not about the love between a man and woman, although there are aspects of that later in the story. This story is about the love between a daughter in law and her mother in law. To me, with the exception of the love story written on the cross, this is the greatest love story in scripture. But that's just me.

Here's the deal. Naomi moved with her husband and two sons to Moab because of a famine in Bethlehem. After a little while, her husband dies. After a little while longer, her sons marry women from Moab. Then after a little while longer, both sons die, leaving the three women to fend for themselves. Naomi dismisses the daughters to go back to their people and remarry, one does, one will not. So Naomi and Ruth decided to make their way back to Bethlehem. Ok, there's the quick overview up till now.

Back in Bethlehem Ruth goes out to glean grain from the fields one day. That was how it worked. If you were a farmer, you could not go over the field a second time, and had to leave some grain around the edges for the widows in town. As she was gleaning in a field owned by Boaz, he noticed her and was especially kind to her (another love story right there because I bet that wasn't the norm). When Ruth asked Boaz why he was being so kind to her, he said that it was because of what she had done for Naomi.

There is a truth buried in this story, though, and sometimes it's one that we really struggle with...and here it is: (You know I couldn't just talk about the love story, right? My estrogen level is not that high)...Does the story of Ruth tell us that if we do good for others, good will be done for us?

That's what Moab told her. The reason he was being kind to her was because she had been kind to Naomi. Now, my question is, was Ruth kind to Naomi so that she would be taken care of in Bethlehem? The short answer is, "I don't believe that for a minute." In this story, I believe that Ruth did all that she did for Naomi strictly out of her love for her. I don't think that Ruth behaved the way that she did so that she would get something in return, and that my friends, is love. That's what happened at the cross, and that's also why this story is so beautiful.

I realize that there are folks who operate like that, though, you know, giving so they can get. It's just the reality of the world we live in. Sometimes we question other people's motives, I've done it. But should we? Certainly, we have no way of knowing what motive is in someone's heart, and they may be showing kindness to us because of some agenda they have, but what if? What if they are actually being Ruth to our Naomi? It happens.

I don't know, maybe I'm just rambling this morning. But it just seems to me that with the world the way it is (hunger being the norm in some areas and not the exception; folks still sleeping on the streets in one of the richest countries in the world; and we could go on and on) that knowing there are some folks out there who will give with no thoughts of getting back makes me feel a little better about the human species. So for today, and maybe only today, I will not question, if or when, someone shows me a kindness. I will not think about their motives. I will not ask why. I will accept it with grace and hope that, when or if, I do the same for someone else today my motives will not be questioned either.

Now, where's my fishing rod? I've got to do something manly for a while.

Peace

J

Storage Capacity

Ok, today's passage got me. Someone go ahead and see if you can pull this splinter out from under my fingernail...no wait, I think I would rather have a splinter under my fingernail than to think about what the scripture today made me realize. Dang it, I hate when scripture does that to me.

Ok, this morning, the Old Testament text comes from Judges 17 and 18. There's not just a whole lot of "Wow!" stuff in this one this morning, but there is enough that it caught my attention. It tells the story of Micah and his mother, and his mother's silver, that evidently someone had taken. Turns out, the someone was Micah.

Now, I could stop right there and go one of two directions: I could talk about stealing, and I could talk about dishonoring your parents, but that's not what got me this morning; it comes a few lines later, and here is what it says: "Now this man Micah had a shrine..." That's it, but that was enough.

You see, the silver that belonged to his mother was cast into an idol. That idol was then given back to Micah, and Micah already had a spot in his house ready for it. Maybe it was a little niche in the wall, maybe it was something else, but he had built in a place for his idol. That was what he worshipped, and what he worshipped had its own place in the house; a shrine is what scripture calls it.

You may or may not know that Steph and I have just finished building a house. I've been working on it for 3 1/2 years in my spare time. Between getting my Master's of Divinity and serving 3 churches, I built a house. During the planning stage, we decided that we needed plenty of storage area, so I put in lots of closets, 11 closets to be exact. The old part of the house has a walk out attic, so that added another 200 square feet of storage space, but I decided that just wasn't enough. So, what did I do? I added a shrine.

My shrine is attached to the end of the house. It's 30 feet by 30 feet with a full staircase and full storage overhead. Altogether, my shrine has 1180 square feet in it. You could set our first house inside my shrine and have room to walk around it. Why did I build this shrine? Because I needed a place to put the stuff that I worship. Well, worship may be a little strong, but evidently this stuff is important or it wouldn't have its own place in our house. You get my drift.

I have a place built into my house just for the sole purpose of protecting the stuff that I think really needs protecting. Now, I don't go out there everyday and bow down before it, but as I look around at all of this stuff filling up my shrine, I think, "My gosh what am I doing?"

1180 square feet of storage space in my shrine...but there's the boats (both of them), all of my saws and power tools, tool boxes, boxes of books, boxes of toys, oh and the 4 wheeler, bicycles that we haven't ridden in years, paint cans, tarps, and that's just the stuff downstairs. Oh, and that's not counting the other shrine we have at the parsonage...more boxes, motorcycle, more tools, you get my point. It's ridiculous, and a lot of it is getting ready to go. I'm downsizing.

So, take today and look around. Where are the shrines in your house and what is in them? You just might be surprised at what you think is important.

Peace

J

Old Testament Soap Operas...

I despise soap operas. Just saying. And I apologize if that offends anyone who may be a faithful viewer. But I just don't get it. What is it about our lives that makes us feel the need to get involved in theirs'? I mean, somebody is always trying to kill somebody else, or sleeping with someone else's wife. There is always at least one bad guy, with that awful soap opera bad guy glare. And at least one bad girl, who has to continually prove that she's the bad girl. Everyone is always loaded, really loaded, living in unbelievably huge houses and driving, excuse me, being driven around in unbelievably expensive cars. I just don't get it.

The story of Samson reads just like a script for a Monday afternoon soap opera, oh my gosh! Have you read that story lately? As I think back, I'm not sure that I have ever preached on Samson, so evidently I wasn't as familiar with the story as I thought I was. I mean, I knew about Samson and Delilah, and I knew that he whipped a bunch of Philistines with the jawbone of an ass. But, dang, Hollywood couldn't write a better script.

It starts out simple enough. His mother is getting older and has no children. An angel appears to her and says that she is going to have a son but that he will be a Nazirite from birth. He can't ever have fermented drink or any form of grape, he could never eat anything unclean, and he could never cut his hair. Samson was born and scripture says, "and the Spirit of the Lord began to stir him while he was in Mahaneh Dan..."

Then the drama kicks in...He had found a Philistine girl that he just had to marry, so he convinced his mom and dad to go get her for him. On the way a lion charged them and he ripped it apart with is bare hands. He went back to marry her, and found a swarm of honey bees in the lion's carcass, scooped out some of the honey, and went on his way. Then there was the bet...he told his buddies that if they could solve his riddle he would give them a bunch of stuff, if not they had to give him a bunch of stuff. After a few days, his new bride to be, threw the "You don't love me" stuff at him and he told her the answer, then she told them. Yada yada yada.

But I love what Samson says about all of that..."If you had not plowed with my heifer you would not have solved my riddle..." Now, if I had said that, I would have found myself rolled up in a bed sheet with my wife wailing me with a baseball bat, and like my dad says, I would have just had to lay there and take it because I earned it. But since this is an Old Testament soap opera, he can get away with it.

But wait! There's more! The drama gets even better. His future father in law thought Samson was mad so gave his wife to one of his buddies. So, Samson does what any jilted lover would do, he goes on a killing spree, and it was on from there. Cue Delilah and her treachery. He loved her, but she could be bought, and was. The Philistines promised her silver if she could find out the source of his strength, but Samson just played along for a while. 3 times he told her where his strength was, 3 times she told them. Then, o my gosh, she throws the "How can you love me if you won't confide in me?" stuff at him. His story does have a sad ending, but he does get some sense of revenge in the end.

I guess that all of this has shown me that not all of scripture needs some lengthly theological wranglings. I'm sure there are things within Samson's story that we could debate theologically, but on first reading, this is one heck of a soap opera. I have to say that after reading it that way for the first time, I'm not even sure what to do with it. Is it legend? Are there some metaphorical truths buried within it that I haven't uncovered for myself yet? Is it history? Did God give life to Samson and cause his story to be recorded for us to read all these years later? Did he get jilted by not one, but two, women so that we can glean some life lesson from that? Did he really push the pillars down in the temple of dagon, killing thousands of those who would stand around to mock him? And where was God while all of this was going on?

I don't know. Sometimes I just have to step back from a passage of scripture and let it soak in for a while, and then read it again to see if it reads the same. I guess that's what I'm going to have to do with this one, and encourage you to do the same. Again with the forest and the trees. This one has messed me up just a little. Nothing major, but I am going to spend some time with it this week, reading the drama out of it, and looking for the deeper truths within in.

Peace

J

The One That Didn't Get Away...

(Artwork by Nelson Boren)

I used to love to fish. For some reason, I've kind of lost interest in it the last few years, but for the biggest part of my life, I have loved to fish. There was very little in life, at the time, more frustrating than hanging a huge fish, fighting it, wearing it down, and then just as you get ready to pull it out of the water, the line breaks...fish falls back into the lake, swims away, and there is a momentary loss of religion on my part. You've always heard folks talk about the one that got away.

But for every "one that got away" story, I've got a story where the fish didn't get away. I've got one hanging on the wall in my office that I caught in 1984. To a 13 year old kid, that fish was huge! And it didn't get away. I've caught some real monsters over the years, and maybe one day, I'll get back into it.

Stories about the one that got away can be bittersweet. I guess you've probably figured by now that I'm not going to stick with the fishing stories this morning, that's just not my style. There is a story in scriptures about one that got away...Isaac. Abraham was told by God to sacrifice his son Isaac as an offering to God. If I live to be 1000 years old I'll never understand that one. Abraham and Isaac got everything together and began the trip up the mountain. Just as Abraham was about to drive the knife through Isaac's heart, God sent an angel to grab his arm, and stopped him. They found a ram caught in some brambles, sacrificed the ram, and Isaac got away.

This morning, I found the story of one that didn't get away, and I have to say that reading this story absolutely broke my heart. I'm sure that I have heard it before but I don't remember it. Being the daddy of little girls, this one hit especially close to home. It's found in Judges 11, and here's a little background on the story...

Jephthah was leading Israel at the time, and went out to fight the Ammonites. It was evidently a pretty serious deal because Jephthah cried out to God and cut a quick deal. I mean, who among us hasn't done that, raise your hand. Here is what Jephthah said to God: "If you give the Ammonites into my hands, whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me when I return in triumph from the Ammonites will be the Lord's, and I will sacrifice it as a burnt offering."

We could stop right there and know exactly how this story is going to turn out, couldn't we? What a stupid thing for Jephthah to say. As many movies as we've watched, or books that we've read, we know that it is going to be one of his kids that comes running out to meet him as daddy comes up to the house. Well, sure enough, it was his daughter, and scripture says, "and she was just a child."

Now, I know that society was different then. I know that this wasn't as horrific to them as it was to me when I read it. I know that this story shows how dedicated Jephthah was to God and how thankful he was that God had given him victory, but come on, his baby girl? Not just his baby girl, but his only child. I kept waiting for God to step in and catch his arm like God did for Abraham, but folks, it ain't there in this story.

I kept waiting for God to intervene somehow and let this little girl get away, but it didn't happen. She asked that her father allow her to go with her friends into the hills to weep for 2 months because she would never marry. Never marry? Of course she would never marry, her father was about to sacrifice her as a burnt offering! I kept hoping that Jephthah would change his mind, or that God would say, "Nah, that's ok. I know you're thankful. Let the child alone."

But there it was: "After the two months, she returned to her father and he did to her as he had vowed." (Judges 11:39)

Now, I know that when folks are desperate they say things they regret later, I've been there. We make promises to God, cut deals, whatever you want to call it. I've been there. Jephthah regretted what he had said as soon as he saw his daughter come out of the house, but it was too late. This story proves again that cutting deals with God is not always a good idea. Call out to God in your desperate times, that's absolutely cool, but cutting deals is not.

This one has gotten me so upset that I'm going to have to do a little more research on it. I know human sacrifice was more common, and that certainly, child sacrifice was part of that, but I've got to look into why this one didn't get away.

Peace

J