I’m up waaaaaay too early this morning. Why am I up? Because I’m getting old, and signs of my age are showing (and that’s all I’ll say about that). It’s really not that unusual, though. I’ve always been an early riser (just not generally this early), and I get some of my best work done early in the morning. I think I’ve written before about being an early bird, and as I sit reflecting this morning, the words of David come to my mind:

O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You;
My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.
2 So I have looked for You in the sanctuary,
To see Your power and Your glory.
3 Because Your lovingkindness is better than life,
My lips shall praise You. Psalm 63:1-3

Seeking God early in the morning isn’t the only benefit that comes to early risers. Forbes magazine did an article outlining some other benefits of early risers. Among other things, it pointed out a 2008 University of Texas study which found that students who “got up early” earned a full letter grade higher than students who were “night owls.” I don’t know whether that’s really the case, or not, but I didn’t do too badly in college. It also noted that early risers tended to be better planners. I’m not sure that gene passed down to me. Planning? Not my strong suit!

Yet again, my mind hears the words of David:

Give ear to my words, O Lord,
Consider my meditation.
² Give heed to the voice of my cry,
My King and my God,
For to You I will pray.
³ My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord;
In the morning I will direct it to You,
And I will look up. Psalm 5:1-3

This Psalm of David is one of the reasons that I end each of my blog posts with the phrase, “keep looking up.” It is a reminder for me to maintain an attitude of prayer as I go throughout the day. My early encounter is my reminder that life must be centered in Christ. He is my beginning and my end. It is my reminder that in those moments of great spiritual awareness, he is there. It is also my reminder that in moments of great spiritual distraction (Ok, let’s call that failure), he is also there. This reminder comes to me in the morning…every morning, both the mornings when I’ve rested well, and those mornings when I feel like I’ve awakened a bit, too early (like today, perhaps).

I most savor the quiet of the early mornings. It affords me a chance to simply listen. My phone doesn’t ring or buzz. The only distractions are the ticking of the clock, and the breathing of the dog (that is until I take out the computer to do email–can’t figure out why I can’t put that aside for a few moments longer). Generally, it’s a pattern of reading, then listening. Reading, then listening. Then, praying. I often write my prayers, too. Studies show early risers tend to be more focused. Yeah? I didn’t get that gene, either. I start to pray and my mind goes wandering, in a million different directions (and, believe you me, my mind CAN wander). Writing my prayers orders my prayers. If they’re not written, then they must be spoken, but I don’t even like to do that early in the morning, for I don’t even want my voice to break the silence. There is ample opportunity throughout the day to offer verbal prayers. The only voice I want to hear early in the morning is the Lord’s. Sometimes, I have to listen really hard, though.

I can’t really think of any drawbacks that come from rising early. Well, there is the little problem of by the time Vanessa gets up, I’ve usually been awake a couple of hours and I’m ready to talk. She just looks at me. The look reminds me to be silent again! And, I do! Also, rising early means I’m ready for bed by 9:00 p.m., on most days. Of course, one sage opined: “Early to bed, early to rise makes one healthy, wealthy and wise.” One out of three isn’t too bad, I suppose. I am as healthy as I’ve ever been (with the exception of those obvious signs of aging that sometimes wake us up in the middle of the night).

So, I’m up early this morning, and now, I’ll go take advantage of another of the benefits of rising early–exercise. After all, the study did say that early morning exercise boosts mood and fitness, as well as provides energy for the work day. Heaven knows, I need energy for the work day. It’s sermon day.

So, come on. Join me in an early morning routine. Sit, read, listen, pray. Oh, and sing. Remember this hymn:

Until next time, keep looking up…

Today’s will be a short post, but I thought it necessary to acknowledge this day–September 11th. Nothing has been the same since September 11, 2001. Most of you remember where you were when you heard the news of that fateful day. I was with a group of leaders from Webster Parish at a retreat for Leadership Webster. For some reason, that group just didn’t seem the same after the news came. We were supposed to be team building, but all any of us wanted to do was watch the news. Team building went by the wayside. I’m certain the Webster Parish/Minden Chamber of Commerce didn’t get their money’s worth out of that particular class.

So…

We remember the persons who lost their lives in the twin towers of the World Trade Center…

We remember the first responders who gave their lives trying to save the lives of people in the buildings.

We remember the persons whose lives were tragically taken in the plane crash in a field in Pennsylvania.

We remember every family who lost loved ones that fateful day.

We remember every military service member who has sacrificed since in the fight against the nameless, faceless enemy of this nation, and we remember every military family whose loved one gave the ultimate sacrifice in that fight.

We remember that the enemy of this nation has not been defeated…that the fight persists.

We remember that there is such a thing as evil, and as Edmund Burke said, “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”

We remember that the greater enemy is the enemy of our soul: 1 Peter 5:8.

I am sure there are others to remember, and I apologize for not remembering. Let us bow our heads and lift our hearts in prayer for our nation, and our leaders on this solemn day, but let us also pray for peace, in this life and in the life to come.

Until next time, keep looking up…

 

I’m in the midst of a sermon series entitled The Games People Play, and this past week I preached a message on the party game Charades. I’m not going to rehash the message here, but the point I hoped I made was we are called to LOVE people with a “sincere” love, and perhaps the reason so many disciples of Jesus Christ are considered hypocrites is because our love has not always been “sincere.”

I do hate it, though, when I wake up on Sunday morning, and I sense the Holy Spirit prompting me to rewrite my message. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen (it’s a scary thing, too!). I remember one time (and it’s been a long time) that I prepared the message, and the moment I stepped into the pulpit, the Holy Spirit changed the message completely. I didn’t preach what I had prepared, but the message went in an entirely different direction. Once. That happened once. It didn’t happen this past Sunday, but it sure felt like it might happen. So, I think I’ll process that episode here.

I must confess I had an uneasiness all week about the message. As I prayed over the text, and researched and did the exegetical work (you preachers know what I mean), I was uncomfortable all week long. It might have had something to do with the fact I was dealing with the issue of hypocrisy (especially as one who sometimes feels a bit hypocritical). I never felt “right” about the direction the message was taking. I felt like there was something I needed to say, but I wasn’t sure exactly what that “something” was. I even canceled an out-of-town trip to work through the issues that arose in my sermon prep (well, this was just one of the reasons, but…).

I must also confess the only substantive change I made to the message on Sunday morning was the conclusion. I added these words:

“When we play Charades, it’s important that we send the right signals. We can be pretty sure if our teammates aren’t getting the correct answer that we’re sending the wrong signals. If your team is getting it wrong, CHANGE THE SIGNAL. Perhaps, the world is getting the wrong answer about the church because we’re sending the wrong signal.”

“Change the signal!” This could be an entirely different message. Let’s review Charades for a moment. One team member pantomimes a word or phrase for his/her team in order to win the game. We know that a charade is a pretense, or pretending, and that’s the direction I took the message–hypocrites pretend to be something they’re not–and we disciples of Jesus get accused of that all the time. While the pretext for the game of Charades is about pretending to be something we’re not, the object is to win the game by giving great signals, by being a good actor. Yes, it’s about acting, but follow me and see if this makes sense.

The “acting out” team member knows the answer. He/she knows what he/she is trying to communicate. In their heart-of-hearts, they want to communicate this truth to their team members so they can win the game. The intention of their heart is to communicate in such a manner as to help their teammates get the answer correct. The heart knows, even if the body and mind can’t communicate the phrase compellingly enough for others to seize the truth. I think that’s the real problem with the church. I think that’s the real problem with me.

I know the truth of God’s love. I know the truth that Jesus died on the cross that we might be redeemed and reconciled to a loving Father who only wants a relationship with us. I know the truth that we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. I know the answer! My problem is in communicating the answer in such a way that my teammates get it right. I want desperately to share this Good News with my team. I want desperately for them to know the love of God in Jesus Christ. So, I spend my life giving them signals to help them understand. The problem is my signals are not always the best in the world. Sometimes, my signals get crossed. What is meant to be love comes across as judgment. What is meant to communicate unity is seen as divisive. What is offered in compassion is received as animosity.

What’s the problem? Why are my signals so bad? One reason, played out in three ways: SIN. First, there is sin in me. Truth is, I’m not always a good actor. I’m not always as close to the truth as I should be, and sin in my own life causes me to act in ways that are counter to the truth I am, in my heart-of-hearts, trying to communicate. It prevents others from picking up my signals, even when I’m desperately trying to share them.

Secondly, there is sin in the world around me. Rather than quote a litany of the sin and evil that exists in the world around me, suffice it to say, evil in the world blocks the effective communication and reception of the Gospel message. The Enemy fights feverishly to prevent others from hearing the message of hope and life in Jesus Christ, and he will use everything at his disposal to insure that as few people as possible come to the knowledge of the truth.

Thirdly, there is sin in my teammates. As I said, we’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and that includes those to whom I’m seeking to communicate the truth of God’s love. To say “they” are sinners is not to render judgment, my friends, it is to acknowledge the human condition (the very condition that necessitates a Savior), and the very thing that prevents me from giving the best signals I can give is the thing that causes them to misinterpret the signals being sent. Sin just gets in the way of everything!

There is hope, though, and a remedy–confession, repentance and prayer. As the signal-giver, I need to confess that my signals are sometimes weak because of sin. Part of the problem these days is no one wants to admit to sin. We don’t want to call anything sin. We want to keep “sin” at arms length, have it continue to be some nebulous, undefinable concept, not naming anything specific, but more a “none of us is perfect” attitude that absolves us from responsibility for our actions (or lack thereof). Sin is real, though…in my life, in the world, and in the lives of others. Hatred, anger, sexual immorality, lying, cheating, stealing, greediness (so, pick any of Paul’s lists from the New Testament here) are all real acts and attitudes we battle constantly. If we can’t name them in our own lives, we won’t open ourselves to the power of the Holy Spirit to transform us, and we’ll continue to send and receive the wrong signals.

Repentance is that act which opens our hearts to the transforming grace of God in Jesus Christ. Repentance opens us to a fresh anointing of the Holy Spirit to cleanse us and correct us so that the signals we send are made more clear for others…others whose hearts are also being made ready by the Spirit to receive the signals we’re sending.

I believe prayer is the key to the entire process. Pray for God to cleanse me…to give me a pure heart (Psalm 51:10), and pray for the Holy Spirit to work in my “teammates” to receive the message of grace I so desperately desire to share, because I do really, really, really, in my heart-of-hearts, want us to win. I pray God knows that the intention of my heart is to share His love and grace, and not simply put on a show for others. I pray He knows that though I sometimes fall short in giving the right signals, my desire is to see His Kingdom come. After all, isn’t that the point? Isn’t that what’s at the heart of the game of Charades?

Yeah, I’m probably over-thinking the whole thing, but I know if my teammates aren’t getting the right answer, it’s probably because I’m giving the wrong signals. I need to change my signals. Holy Spirit, come into my heart and transform me, so that the signals I give to others might lead to their redemption and our reconciliation to You and to each other. Come, Holy Spirit!

Until next time, keep looking up…

It’s been 17 days since my last blog post. That’s not very good if a person actually wants people to read the post. Of course, I’m not nearly as tech savvy as I think I am (or, so I learn more everyday), and getting people to read my blog is not the purpose of the blog. (Here’s why I started writing a blog.) But I digress (the digression proves the point of today’s particular blog).

I haven’t written lately because I’ve allowed myself get distracted. Maybe it’s just too easy for me to become distracted. I find it ever more difficult to stay on task. I would like to blame it on having so much to do that I don’t know what to do next, so the next thing that comes up, I do, but that would be too easy, and not totally correct. I would like to blame it on ADD (or, is it ADHD, or AADD? I’m not sure), and a simple fix would be getting medication, but that would be too easy, too, and it probably wouldn’t work (nor would my insurance cover it, so…). It’s probably a much more simple matter of allowing the urgent to crowd out the important, and not paying attention to present demand. It might also be a matter of establishing appropriate priorities. No matter! I haven’t written lately, AND I’m easily distracted.

Perhaps that’s why I spoke to our men’s group on Tuesday about distractions. Most of the time when I speak or preach a sermon, it’s not a message for THEM as much as it is them overhearing a conversation God is having with me, or me with God. The men got an earful Tuesday as the Lord got me pretty good.

We live in a world filled with distractions. Where would you like me to start? I could start with television, radio and the internet. I saw one study that showed between these media, the average adult spends more than nine hours a day in front of a screen. I know not all that time is spent as a distraction, but when I spend a couple of hours catching up on DVR’d episodes of American Pickers, that’s  a distraction. Another distraction is when I am “working” on-line researching some issue, or even catching up on the news, and I find myself spending twenty minutes watching a Stephen Colbert video that is neither research nor news, well, that’s a distraction. Or, I’ll do a Google search on “hours spent watching TV,” and I’ll find myself four clicks deep into the search on a page that has nothing to do with watching TV (I had the choices of two Miley Cyrus articles, Joan Rivers’ hospitalization, a NYPD sex abuse case, and…well, you get the point, and no, I’m not telling which one I landed on). I even get distracted when I’m distracted.

Then, there’s my whole email thing (yes, I know, email is an extension of digital media, but…). So, I’m at work, right? And, I have my computer on, right? And, I’m working on a project, or even talking to someone, right? And, my Outlook is open, right? And, I get an email (yes, Outlook dings every time I get an email, and no, I don’t know how to turn it off [I told you I wasn’t as tech savvy as some people think]). What do I do? I quit whatever I’m doing and look at email! How dumb! In my defense, I am learning to not keep Outlook open when I’m at my desk. It becomes less of a distraction that way.

Then, of course, there’s my smartphone. Talk about a distraction! Right there, in my pocket or on my hip, is a distraction that’s with me everywhere I go. Generally, if it rings, I answer it. It’s an addiction, I suppose. I can’t help myself. And, text messages, too. Ding! I’m stopping whatever I’m doing and looking at my phone. It’s very rude. I know it’s rude. But, I can’t help myself. Is there a medication for this malady? Is it covered by my insurance? Somebody help me! Oh, the distraction!

I’m a little concerned (notice my use of the word concerned as opposed to worried) that my life has become a reflection of the thorny ground Jesus talked about when he told the story of the farmer scattering seed in Luke 8: 1 -1 5. Jesus talks about the seed falling among the thorns, but it soon gets crowded out by the “cares, riches and pleasures” of this life. I’m thinking those are the distractions I’m dealing with. The “cares” of this life might better be translated “worries.” The Greek word means “being pulled in different directions.” We can feel like we’re being pulled in different directions, and often we are with family, work, civic and church responsibilities. Each of these is important, but each of these can keep us from hearing God’s voice (the seed in Jesus’ story).

Jesus also talks about “riches.” Not much I can say about this one (no riches, no worries!), except that I can become so distracted with making a living that I fail to make a life. Jesus then, however, talks about the “pleasures” of life. Talk about distractions! And, we are entering a time of the year when I will be plenty distracted. Seriously! College football has kicked off, and LSU plays tomorrow night. The Saints kick off next Sunday (in Atlanta, of all places [dirty Birds!]). And, I’ve discovered that Facebook is the new way to watch football with friends, as I post my in-game commentary so all of my friends know exactly what I’m doing, and how I feel about it. And, the weather? It’s going to turn cooler soon, and that’s going to make golf even more enticing. Yeah, I forsee a lot of distractions in my future (I should call them “thorns”), and I confess, I need help! Those distractions will crowd out the better things of life, and they’ll choke off the very life-blood of a disciple–God’s voice.

Here’s an interesting thing to note. Thorns grow without any effort. When I pastored Benton UMC, we had the opportunity to purchase 18 adjoining acres. Those 18 acres were filled with thorn bushes that had no problem growing on their own. The property was terribly unusable at it existed because of the thorns. The only way it was going to become fruitful was through an intentional eradication of the thorns. Here’s the point: Distractions, like thorns, grow on their own. They take no effort. The effort is in eradicating them.

So, where do I put my effort? One, establish my priorities, and my first priority is to nurture my relationship with the Lord. I need to hear his voice. As Elijah discovered on the mountain (1 Kings 19: 1 – 13), the voice of God is still and quiet. If we hear it, we’ll need to limit the distractions. Second, I just need to turn a few things off…let’s call it powering down. Yes, I know, it won’t be easy. Getting rid of thorns never is, but it is imperative if we’re going to live as faithful, fruitful disciples of Jesus Christ. Finally, I need accountability. This is the medication I’m searching for. I need people in my life who will call me to task when I’m distracted, who can lovingly and gently ask me questions that will give me pause to check my priorities, encourage me to power down, and re-focus on that which is most important–hearing God’s voice. Somebody, help me! (Oh, by the way, did you see…but, I digress).

Until next time, keep looking up…

I’m glad I have a brother who fancies himself a watermelon farmer. Actually, he just fancies himself a farmer, but watermelons we’re his abundant crop this summer. I’m glad because I love watermelon. I love it’s juicy sweetness. I love the sound a watermelon makes when you stick the knife in it and it’s ripeness is just such that it splits itself open. That’s when you know it’s going to be sweet and delicious. My brother had a pretty good crop this year, and I was the benefactor of several of those home-grown melons.

My love for watermelons is as much nostalgia as anything else, I suppose. I remember as a kid walking into Malone’s Grocery in Chatham, LA, in the summer time and seeing the front of the store lined with fresh Saline watermelons. Usually in July, the watermelon farmers from Bienville Parish would make their rounds pulling trailers loaded with watermelons, stopping at every little grocery store, convenience store and gas station along their routes. If we were anywhere around, we were usually the ones who helped pack the melons from the trailer into the store. I still can’t decide which I liked more–the striped “Jubilee” melon, or the solid “Charleston Gray.”

My grandfather’s store had a dairy case that ran the length of one wall just as you entered the store. Underneath the “cooler” was storage for extra milk or eggs. He’d have us clean out a spot and fill the “cooler” with watermelons, and a sign would go in the window reading “Cold Watermelon.” The best part (and here’s the love) was on Sunday after lunch, my grandfather would go to the store, pull out one of those ice cold watermelons and bring it home for everyone to enjoy on a hot summer afternoon. Once I was old enough to drive, he’d trust me with the keys to the store, and I would get to go pick out one of those ice cold melons. Every time I slice into a juicy, ripe melon, I remember those days growing up. Nothing sweeter on a hot summer afternoon than ice cold watermelon.

It’s really just the summer melons that evoke those memories. I’ve yet to find any of those “seedless” watermelons you buy these days that have the same sweetness or meaty-ness of those locally, home-grown melons. They are a cheap (well, not really cheap, but you know what I mean) imitation of the real thing, and while they’ll do in a pinch, they just never taste quite right (and, don’t even get me started on that stuff they call “watermelon” on buffets and salad bars–really?).

Seeds are part of the whole watermelon experience. There really is something missing when the seeds are not there (seriously, no pun intended). Seeds make us have to work for the melon. I mean, when was the last time you had a seed-spitting contest? People say the sweetest part of the melon is the “heart” where there are few seeds, but I disagree. I find the sweetest part of the melon to be right in the middle of all the seeds, and while it’s a chore and a bother to separate the melon from the seeds, it’s always worth the effort, and, if you save the seeds, you’ve got the beginnings of next year’s crop. But, seedless melons are all the rage. They’re what you find in the stores these days. They make watermelon eating easier, and after all, everyone wants easier.

Sometimes, I think we want our faith easier, too. We don’t want to be bothered with the hard work that is real faith. Give me a seedless faith, one where I don’t have to bothered with the demands of a holy God, one where I can taste of the sweetness without dealing with accountability, or transparency, or honesty. Give me a seedless faith where I don’t have to wrestle with the hard questions of life. Questions like, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” or “Where is God when it hurts?” No, my seedless faith says everything is supposed to come up roses, that life is supposed to be easy, that I’m supposed to have all the finer things of life because, hey, I deserve it. Give me a seedless faith, where sin is some nebulous reality we know exists, but no one (especially me!) actually ever does it anymore. Give me a seedless faith, one without judgment, one without trials and struggles, one where all things are perfect. Some faith that is!

Faith is made stronger in the fire. Faith is made stronger in the trials. Faith is made deeper when practiced in a community where accountability is real, where honesty and integrity matter. Faith is made stronger when we wrestle with sin (both our own and that of society). Faith is made stronger, and more meaningful, and life-changing when we have to deal with the seeds.

There are Christians around the world today whose faith is being made stronger because of the persecution they endure. The Kurdish Christians who are being driven from their homes, whose lives are being threatened if they do not convert to Islam, who are being killed for the belief in Jesus Christ, do not possess a seedless faith. I suspect the persecution comes for them because they have a deep faith, a faith that is being deepened even in the face of mounting persecution. I pray for them (and all our brothers and sisters around the world who are being persecuted) daily. I pray their faith doesn’t falter, but I also pray that I could have such faith.

Nah! Seedless watermelons just aren’t the same. Faith not borne out of the trials and struggles of life is not quite the same either. I’ll take my watermelon with seeds in it. I pray my faith deepens in the hard work of living life.

Until next time, keep looking up…

⁴ “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one! ⁵ You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. ⁶ “And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. ⁷ You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up. (Deuteronomy 6:4-7, NKJV)

August is upon us, and the beginning of school is right around the corner (can you believe it?). I’ve seen the school supply lists in the stores. We’re getting ready to bless the backpacks for the school children. We’re donating uniforms and school supplies. Many parents I know are breathing a sigh of relief as a “routine” can once again be established with children, and things can get back to normal (well, as normal as things get in most households). It’s a busy time of preparation and anticipation.

Our children spend, on average, 900 to 1,000 hours per year in instructional time in the classroom. That’s a lot of time learning reading, writing and arithmetic (among other subjects), and we parents are diligent to see that our children learn all they can. We know the value of a good education, and what’s more, our government mandates that we educate our children. We know the value in teaching and in teachers. So, we invest the time and resources to insure learning takes place. That’s a no-brainer.

We also invest a lot of time teaching our children other things, too. We teach them how to play sports, and perhaps more time and money is invested than ever before with the proliferation of sports academies and sports camps. We invest in the best teachers for our children when it comes to music, or dancing, or cheering, or…(you fill in the blank with the activity that your child is a part of), and we engage tutors when they fall behind in school. We want our children to learn from the best so they can be the best. That, too, is a no-brainer.

I am reminded by the words of the ancient scribe in Deuteronomy that the greatest classroom is not at the school house, nor at the sports camp, or the cheer camp, or the music studio. The greatest classroom is the home, and the greatest teachers are parents. We have been entrusted with teaching our children the lessons of faith. See, the church is not the place our children learn those lessons. They’re meant to be taught in the home. The church is here to come alongside parents to support, encourage and strengthen those values and principles learned in the home. Faith is a family affair. It was never intended for our children to “discover” their faith on their own. Faith is meant to be a family tradition. Are we passing on the tradition?

For all the hours our children spend in the various classrooms of life, they’ll never spend more hours than in the classroom of the home. The value our children eventually ascribe to any activity or area of life will likely be derived because of lessons learned (or not) in the home. May our children learn the value of trust in Jesus Christ because we parents have lived it in our homes, and we’ve invested the time and resources to teach our children the lessons that will make the most difference in our world and in their lives, not only today, but eternally. That really should be a no-brainer, too.

Until next time, keep looking up…

I’ve leaned over and picked up three pennies and a dime this week. My favorite place to find coins is Chauvin Grocery. Rare is the time I stop at Chauvin Grocery or River Grille that I don’t find something on the ground. I bend over and pick them up…even the pennies.

I’ve noticed a lot of people don’t bend over and pick up pennies anymore. “It’s not worth it!” they say. They may be right. At least, our government thinks so. President Obama recently said he would favor getting rid of the penny. One U.S. Representative actually introduced legislation entitled the COIN act (Currency Overhaul for an Industrious Nation–COIN, get it?) in 2006 that would eliminate the penny altogether. That’s probably not a bad thing since it costs the U.S. government 1.8¢ to mint a penny in 2013, and the cost to mint them has exceeded their value since 2007. Of course, I can’t figure out how to pay for an item that costs $9.99, or $9.96 if you shop at Wal-Mart. How do I get my change back if I pay with a $10 bill? I bet they round up, and I end up losing money. That’s what I need! Wal-Mart making more money off of me.

There’s not a time I bend over and pick up a penny that I don’t think of Ed DeBusk. Ed was a retired Air Force Colonel and a bus driver, and he was a member of a church I pastored.  Ed had a passion for pennies (and all other money he found lying around–literally). Maybe Ed’s passion was not for the pennies, but in the pursuit of pennies. Ed hunted pennies. For more than ten years, Ed spent his spare time hunting spare change.

Ed and his wife would go to the grocery store, and Ed would walk the parking lot looking for pennies while she shopped. They’d go to Wal-Mart, and Ed would walk the parking lot. They’d go to the mall, and you guessed it, Ed would walk the parking lot scouring the ground for pennies. Why? Because Ed saw the value of a penny. Ed collected those pennies for missions.

Every year at the church there was a penny contest during vacation bible school. Children would be challenged to bring their pennies and other spare change, and everything that was collected would be given to missions projects. Boys and girls would bring their pennies to be weighed each day. Whichever gender brought the most pennies was declared the winner on that particular day. Ed was the penny man, and he’d bring his pennies to divide among the girls and boys so that there was some equity in the contest throughout the week.

Each year I served as pastor, we collected well over $3,000 in pennies and pocket change that was used for projects like Grace Camp, Heifer Project, the Children’s Home and others. Ed’s parking lot finds were responsible for about 25% of the total collected each year. Ed’s willingness to bend over and pick up those pennies made a difference in the lives of a lot of people he never knew. Children of incarcerated parents got to go to summer camp because Ed picked up pennies. Maybe one of them met Jesus there. Somewhere in the world, there are families who have goats or chickens or pigs or cows to help them survive because Ed had a passion for pennies. Somewhere there’s a child whose pallet has been repaired because Ed spent his time scouring parking lots looking for lost change. Lives were changed because of those pennies. Lives were changed because of Ed’s passion. What’s a penny worth? I don’t know? You tell me.

Sometimes, I wonder if we don’t treat lives the way we treat pennies? We see someone who has struggled with addictions and we wonder if they’ve thrown their life away. We see the homeless and wonder why they’re that way. We see a prisoner and we think, “good riddance.”  We encounter a person who is caught in a trap of moral failure or sin, and we think, “What a waste!” God doesn’t see any life as wasted. I think Ed had a little of God’s heart when he picked up those pennies. He could see the value even when no one else could. That’s why God sent His Son, Jesus to die for our sins. The cross was God bending down to pick us up, dust us off and say, “That one is worth picking up.”

Ed’s gone now, but I still don’t pass a penny on the parking lot that I don’t reach down and pick up the penny and thank God for Ed DeBusk and the passion God gave him for pennies.  God called Ed to spend the last ten or so years of his life picking up pennies. I would estimate that Ed picked up over $20,000 worth of pennies in those years. I thank God every day that Ed DeBusk saw the value of a penny. I thank God every day that He sees the value in us (and, in me).

Until next time, keep looking up…

I like Thom Rainer. Dr. Rainer is the President of Lifeway Christian Resources (Yes, that’s the Baptist Bookstore). Dr. Rainer is also a great statistician and always offers interesting insight into church culture and its intersection with secular culture. He’s also written some great books, too. If you see me at the Monroe Athletic Center and I have my headphones in, it’s a pretty good chance I’m listening to a podcast on http://www.thomrainer.com. I enjoy getting his perspective on church/culture issues and leadership.

I came across this article Rainer wrote on church attendance in the United States, it dawned on me something was missing. The information was not necessarily new to me. I’d heard him mention it several times on his podcast. We pastors are always concerned about church attendance and the like. Seriously, we take church attendance as a sign we’re doing at least an adequate job, and pastors like to know we’re doing a good job. Most of us were raised with an appreciation for the good old American work ethic, so any pastor worth his/her salt tracks attendance. The biggest problem I have with Dr. Rainer saying the number one reason for decline in church attendance is changing attendance patterns is it can give pastors the false impression that it’s not my fault. Well, perhaps it isn’t…but, just maybe it is. Let me try to explain myself.

Dr. Rainer writes in the article that “if 200 members attend every week, average attendance is 200. But if one-half of those members miss one out of four weeks, the attendance drops to 175.” I’m not arguing his point. The numbers are correct. I could look at that statement and think, “My attendance is down 12%, and I’ve done nothing different, so it’s not my fault.” I might be only half-right. Perhaps it is my fault because I’ve spent too much time seeking to make church members instead of making disciples of Jesus Christ. Yes, I do believe there is a difference in a church member and a disciple. For one, we live with the mentality in the United States that “membership has its privileges.” The reality is discipleship has its responsibilities, sacrifices and costs. Membership is too easy. Discipleship is hard work.

While Rainer says the number one reason for decline in attendance is changing attendance patterns, he doesn’t unpack the reasons for the changing attendance patterns. Those reasons are myriad and would probably take several more articles (or an entire book) to work through. Among them are:

• Competing allegiances (i.e., sports, work, family commitments, etc.)
• A more mobile culture
• Lack of commitment

I think one reason for the decline in church attendance has to do with the number of Christians dying. Hello! If a church averaging 200 in attendance twenty years ago now averages 100 in attendance, there’s been a 50% decline in attendance. But, what if 100 of those 200 died? There’s your reason for the decline in attendance. Death definitely changes a person’s attendance pattern. A pastor can’t keep people from dying, can we?

I believe the greater issue is a failure in evangelism. While that doesn’t totally lay at the doorstep of the pastor, it’s a pretty good place to start. I have to ask myself the question, “How have I shared Christ with those around me?” Another question I have to ask myself is, “How have I been Christ to those around me?” Still another question I ask is, “How have I helped my church members share Christ with their friends, relatives, associates and neighbors?” The task is to be Christ and share Christ with a hurting world, and invite others to know the Jesus who transforms hearts, and who transforms the world. That’s the starting place for all discipleship, and unless we pastors lead by example, I wonder if we’re not really disciples ourselves (I’m just wondering out loud).

Members pay dues, attend meetings when it’s convenient, connect socially, and expect the benefits of membership. Disciples commit to a life-long transformation process that challenges the core of our being. I’ve offered my core values of a disciple in this blog before. I won’t unpack them again, but I will mention them as a reminder. A disciple of Jesus Christ is a person who:

• Lives evangelistically,
• Studies devotionally,
• Worships regularly (both corporately and privately),
• Serves faithfully, and
• Gives generously.

Attendance should never decline because we should always be reaching out in the power of the Holy Spirit engaging others with the message of salvation in Jesus Christ. The Gospel is as relevant to this culture as it is to any culture before us. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is never irrelevant. My fear is I’ve made it irrelevant because I’ve failed to allow the Holy Spirit to transform me, and to live as a disciple. I fear I’ve spent too much time being a church member and not a disciple, and that I’ve spent far too much time trying to make church members and not nearly enough time trying to make disciples. As good as Thom Rainer is, I think the number one reason for the decline in church attendance is not changing attendance patterns, but rather my lack of discipleship. So, maybe the decline in church attendance is my fault, after all. But, hey? I’m not the perfect pastor, so…

Until next time, keep looking up…

So…the title of my sermon Sunday was “The Test of Faith.” It should have been “The Lord Will Provide.” I preached Sunday from Genesis 22–the story of Abraham offering his son, Isaac, on Mount Moriah. There is so much rich material in the passage, but in the interest of time I chose to focus on verse 1–“Later on, God tested Abraham’s faith and obedience.” I should have focused on verse 14–“Abraham named the place Yahweh-Yireh (which means ‘the Lord will provide’). To this day, people still use that name as a proverb: ‘On the mountain of the Lord it will be provided’.” So, let me tell you why.

It all began Thursday. I spent Thursday afternoon in sermon prep (that’s my usual routine), but for some reason the sermon just didn’t seem to come together. In the middle of my prep, my Minister of Music texted asking if I would prepare the communion elements on Sunday morning (yes, the Senior Pastor of FUMC, Monroe sometimes has to prepare communion elements–don’t ask!). I replied, “Sure, if you’ll make sure the elements are at the church.”

We have three services at FUMC, Monroe each Sunday. We have two traditional services in the sanctuary, and one contemporary service in the fellowship hall. That means three loaves of King’s Hawaiian Bread (just like Jesus used). It also means that the elements in the sanctuary have to be cleaned and replaced in the sanctuary after 8:30 a.m. worship. I get to the church Sunday morning and there are three loaves of bread in the parlor kitchen refrigerator (we’re good to go). I prepare the elements for the 8:30 and 9:30 worship services and put them in place, and I leave one loaf of bread in the refrigerator. I text our Assistant Minister of Music (believing it is my responsibility to insure the elements are replaced after the service–didn’t my Minister of Music text me and ask me to prepare the elements on Sunday?), and ask her to make sure the juice and bread are replaced in the sanctuary after 8:30 worship. She replies, “Will do.” So…we’re all set.

Both the 8:30 and 9:30 a.m. worship services go off without a hitch. The pastoral staff and the choir are lined up behind the sanctuary for the 10:50 a.m. worship service, and my Assistant Minister of Music looks at me and says, “Lynn, I forgot to replace the juice and bread for communion!” I think to myself, “Well, that’s a problem…,” but I say to her, “Well, send someone to get the bread out of the parlor refrigerator, and we’ll use the old juice left over from 8:30 a.m. She turns to her husband (who sings in the choir) and tells him to go to the parlor and get the bread. He gets to the parlor, and…NO BREAD! Someone has stolen the last loaf of King’s Hawaiian Bread!

He locates his son and son-in-law and sends them to Wal-Mart, which, luckily, is only a few blocks away to retrieve another loaf of bread. While they’re going to Wal-Mart, he goes to the fellowship hall and retrieves the “left-overs” from 9:30 a.m. worship, and grabs the bottle of juice from the parlor ‘fridge and heads back to the sanctuary. More on this story later, but let me digress for a moment…

The worship started on time, and as far as we know, no one in the congregation was aware anything was out of the ordinary. The pastoral staff are on the chancel progressing through the order of worship. It comes time for the morning offering. We have a “new” Associate Pastor, and it’s his first Sunday to be on the chancel with the staff. He’s been assigned the Offertory prayer. He asks, “What do I do? Just invite the ushers to come forward?”

“Yes,” I say, “and then the choir will sing their little ditty while the ushers come.”

“Okay, cool,” he says.

He rises to invite the ushers to come. No ushers. He turns and looks at me. “Well, say something,” I say to him.

“If the ushers will come,” he says, but still no ushers. I must admit, he covered well. He said something witty (I don’t remember exactly what he said, but I remember the congregation chuckling). I don’t remember what he said at that point because I’d quit listening. I was worried about the ushers. Did we forget to line up ushers? No. There were ushers handing out bulletins this morning. I’m thinking to myself, “It’s Chris’s first Sunday on the chancel. Someone’s pulling a prank on him. Surely they wouldn’t do that, would they?” Finally, I said, “Someone go find the ushers,” and I see one…that’s right…one person get up and go look for the ushers. Someone has stolen the communion bread and now, they’ve kidnapped the ushers! Just about the time that ONE person stepped out into the foyer, the ushers stepped in and began making their way down the aisle. It’s the first time in my 23+ years of ministry I’ve ever seen a group of ushers receive a round of applause from a congregation. I wanted to say, “Wait until we’ve counted the offering to applaud,” but I thought better of it. Chris offers his prayer, and while he’s praying, our Assistant Minister of Music leans over to our other Associate Pastor and says, “There’s no bread under that cloth.” And, now, back to our story…

The choir does a stellar job on the anthem, and the doxology goes off without a hitch (well, at least we got something right!). I step to the pulpit, read the scripture, and as always, after the scripture, offer a prayer for God’s blessing on our hearing of His Holy Word. Okay, so the prayer has a two-fold purpose. One, to ask God to bless the Word and our hearing of it, and two, to allow the choir time to exit. As I’m praying, I keep hearing movement behind me, and I think (yes, while I’m praying), “It sure is taking the choir a long time to exit.” I find out later, it’s the Assistant Minister of Music’s husband scurrying on hands and knees slipping up behind the altar table to leave the “left-over” bread and bottle of juice so we’ll have elements for communion.

I begin preaching the sermon. Now, here’s the irony…my opening illustration, which is seemingly prophetic at this point, mentions several ways you can tell if you’re having a bad day. If you show up for work and there’s a “60 Minutes” crew there, you might be having a bad day. If your twin sister forgets your birthday, you might be having a bad day. If your birthday cake collapses under the weight of the candles, you might be having a bad day. I should have added, “If your ushers don’t show up and there are no communion elements on the altar table, you might be having a bad day,” but I thought better of that, too.

So…I’m in the pulpit preaching, and I see, out of the corner of my eye, my Associate Pastor get up and exit the sanctuary out the back door. “Hum? I wonder where he’s going (yes, preachers can multitask while preaching). Maybe he’s going out to get the bread.” In a few minutes, I see him come back in without any bread. Interesting. Must have had to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he gets up and goes out again. He must have some bladder problem, or there’s something seriously wrong. I’m not sure what to think at this point. I just keep preaching. Mercifully, I get to the end of the sermon, and it’s time for communion.

We progress through the Prayer of Confession and in the middle of the Great Thanksgiving, I step off the pulpit, move toward the altar table to uncover the “elements,” and my Associate meets me there, fresh loaf of bread in hand, and as I pull back the communion cloth, what do we see but an entire loaf of bread perched perfectly on the plate. The Associate Minister of Music proclaims, “It’s a miracle!” I’m almost certain anyone sitting on the first four rows at FUMC, Monroe heard her proclamation, and wondered what she meant. I simply took the other loaf from my Associate, placed it on the altar table next to the loaf already there, picked that loaf up and continued the Prayer of Great Thanksgiving. Until now, I’m not sure anyone in the congregation had any idea what was going on.

Here’s more irony (or humor, or whatever…). The conclusion of the sermon was this: “God is always in the middle of our bad days. Sometimes testing us. Sometimes protecting us. Sometimes encouraging us. But, always with us, and when we trust that He is, we discover grace, and a God who provides all we need.”

Well, God did provide that day, and God provides everyday (even if what we need is communion bread). It’s a pretty compelling lesson, but, as usual, we don’t really learn the lesson until after the fact. It’s hard to see while we’re living it!

If you’d like to see this entire comedy of errors, click this link: http://www.ustream.tv/channel/first-united-methodist-church-monroe-la. Have mercy as you watch, please.

Maybe watching this instead will help:

Until next time, keep looking up…

I had a bad week last week. The week was not bad in the sense that anything bad happened. It was bad in the sense that I could have done some things differently, and the Lord spent the week reminding me that I should have done a few things differently.

It started at Best Buy. I had purchased some electronic components a few weeks earlier. Actually, it was 20 days earlier. I know it was 20 days earlier because the nice (I’m being a little sarcastic) lady behind the customer service counter told me when I arrived and asked to return the items that Best Buy had a 14 day return policy. So…I got mad…not at the lady, but at myself. The items sat on my desk for all those days. The day I purchased them I discovered they were not correct. I let them sit on my desk thinking, “I’ll take them back tomorrow.” Tomorrow finally came 19 days later. I suppose it would profit a guy to read the receipt, but seriously, who actually reads receipts? I probably leave a ton of free and discounted stuff on the table because I don’t read receipts or log on and take the surveys they ask us to take.

I was mad at myself. First, for not reading the receipt and knowing Best Buy had a 14 day return policy, but I was also mad at myself for not returning the items sooner. They sat on my desk waiting to be returned. I had no excuse for not doing it sooner except that things just get pushed to the side on my desk, and I forgot (if you’ve seen my desk, you know how easy that is). The problem is that my anger presented itself in my interaction with the lady at the customer service counter. I became terse in my responses to her questions. I acted inconvenienced at her requests. Oh! I didn’t make a scene, but it was obvious I was perturbed. The more imposed upon I acted, the more imposed upon she acted…and, it was all my fault! It wasn’t my finest hour, and to make it worse, Vanessa witnessed the entire episode…which only made me more mad…at myself. Then, I got mad for being mad. It was a downward spiral.

The Holy Spirit began to work on me even before I left the store. I knew why I was angry, but even so, I did my best to make it someone else’s fault. I blamed the policy. “What a stupid policy,” I thought. “She could be nicer about it,” I said in my mind. “Just take the stupid things back,” is what I was really wanting to say. Each one of those thoughts was rooted in one more overwhelming thought—“Well, you idiot, if you’d just read the receipt and gotten off your duff and returned the items sooner this wouldn’t be happening.” The responsibility landed on my plate, and I didn’t like acknowledging that fact. The Holy Spirit was present to remind me (so, too, was Vanessa–yes, the Holy Spirit works through our spouses).

The Holy Spirit continued to work on me over the next several days. The Spirit first spoke through a book I was reading entitled The Spiritual Danger of Doing Good, by Peter Greer. One chapter dealt specifically with how we look to other people, and that one motivation for our doing good is because of how it makes us look to others. We’re more concerned about how doing good makes us look than actually doing good for goodness sake. The rebuke for me came because I was concerned that MY mistake made ME look bad, and I was more concerned with looking bad than I was about being good. Pride got the best of me, and I needed to repent.

The Spirit next spoke through my devotional time with A. W. Tozer. Two brief sentences from Tozer pricked my heart and have stayed with me since:

• “We have become experts in other people’s shortcomings but quite naive about our own personal standing with God.”
• “Too often, we are guilty of accepting in ourselves what we vehemently condemn in others.”

Tozer’s words spoke to my own shallow faith, and of my need for God’s grace. Conviction came as I realized I too easily and too quickly surrendered to the sin that is in me, than to the Savior who died for me. The disciple’s life is a daily surrender to the One who surrendered Himself on the cross for me. I surrendered alright, but not in the right way.

Finally, through Scripture I was reminded that even on my worst days, the love of God is still present. It came later in the week, but I was prompted to read Romans 8, and there in verses 38-39 I found comfort:

38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. 39 No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

There are a few lessons I’ve learned:

1. I’m not nearly as good as I think I am.
2. I’m not always as bad as I think I am.
3. Not even my pride can keep God from loving me.
4. Even my bad weeks are not really all that bad.
5. Daily surrender to Jesus Christ is the key to being a faithful disciple.

Perhaps my experience will help you not have such a bad week. Oh, and yes, Best Buy let me return the items (in spite of my attitude).

Until next time, keep looking up…