Chip the Baptist

What Do We Call Him? Part 3: The Rise of Rev. Chip

2012-01-26T16:28:00.000-05:00

Let's see now, where were we? Oh, yeah, I was 22 and my hair fell out because a 7th grader called me "mister" and then she said "yes sir" to me.

Eight years later, I was ordained at Briarcliff Baptist Church in Atlanta. At the end of the service, I was presented with a certificate of ordination and a Bible. It was a huge, leather bound, New Oxford Annotated, New Revised Standard Version with Apocrypha, and was imprinted with REV. CHIP REEVES in gold foil on the bottom right corner. Goliath offered to let me borrow his shield bearer when I needed to carry it anywhere.

On August 1, 1999, I became an official reverend. There was also a reception following the service. How much more official did things need to get?

Shortly after my being ordained, Trisha and I packed everything up and I headed to Maryland for my first "real" ministry job after seminary. I was Baptist Campus Minister at the University of Maryland-College Park. I enjoyed a ministry with students which was still collegial like youth ministry, but in this case everyone was in college (trying real hard not to say "literally" here). My point here is that I was in a ministry position where it was still cool for parishoners to call me Chip. If the voice on the office phone referred to me as Reverend Reeves, I knew it was the Dean of Students' secretary.

The college students didn't have a problem calling me Chip, neither did my fellow ministers and lots of folks who worked at Maryland. But there was one student who changed my name.

Hieu was from Vietnam. She came to me one day with a problem. "I don't know what to call you," she told me. I replied, "You can call me Chip."
"No, I can't"
"Yes, you can. It's OK with me."
"No, I can't. It would be embarrassing."
"Look, I have had this nickname all my life. It's really is OK to call me Chip."

The point my new friend was trying to make with me was that in her culture it was impolite to be on a first name--nay, nickname basis with your minister. She then emphasized this truth in a way that a boy from down South would completely understand, "My mother won't let me." We set the differences in our cultural mores aside and walked on common ground. I knew what she was talking about. Some manners and the way we learn our manners are universal. I knew my Momma would be disappointed in me if I allowed anyone to be embarrassed because of me.

I still felt like I wasn't old enough to be referred to as Reverend Reeves. I'd only been ordained a few weeks; it might not have "took". Besides, if everyone started calling me that, how was I supposed to filter the calls from the dean's office?

So it was that over lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant somewhere in the greater College Park/Langley Park/Silver Spring area, I acquired one of my favorite appellations. It was a merger of the realm of formal titles and the world of striving to be yourself, "Reverend Chip". Thanks to Hieu I have really enjoyed finding out who this guy is.

RE: Little Drummer Boy

2011-12-21T15:13:00.000-05:00

First a confession: I have little to no tolerance for the radio stations that play Christmas music all day starting November 1. You could at least wait until after Thanksgiving, and why not wait a little longer?

Well there is a benefit. In their desperate attempts to boast about the variety in their programming, we are treated to several different versions of Christmas songs. You can hear Johnny Mathis AND Andy Williams sing all of them.

One song I've heard in diversity is "The Little Drummer Boy". The classic version is the one done by Bing Crosby and David Bowie. You can also hear it performed by Whitney Houston. I think I heard a Toby Keith rendition this morning. Growing up we had a ceramic music box which played the tune.

It's safe to say that, like many of its holiday compatriots, "The Little Drummer Boy" has been done ad infinitum by multifarious artists with multifarious takes on the song. But there's something missing. In every version I've heard, there isn't a whole lot of drumming. OK, some do better than others (tip 'o the cap, TK and Jars of Clay), but come on! The song's about a little drummer boy who played his drum for Jesus and the Incarnate Word smiled at him.

I need a hero!

Here's what I want. Immediately after the line, "I played by best for him, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum, rum-pa-pum-pum, rum-pa-pum-pum", just bring it! Give me a Tommy Lee drum solo (you still read this, Tommy?). How about the cast of Drumline? Take a minute or two and throw down!

I want to see the innkeeper freak out about the noise, and Mary begin to ponder what she had done by allowing the little drummer boy to play. It would be great foreshadowing for the entire ministry of Jesus which shook things up and turned the world upside down. A most appropriate herald no doubt!

Then he smiled at me, and there was something about that grin.

Rev. Chip to the Rescue

2011-12-12T17:02:00.000-05:00

I need some outlet for what I'm feeling. I realize going public with this could elicit too much sympathy or too much ire--or both. My first experience in the office this morning was a call to rescue damsels in distress. Our preschool director and one of the mothers discovered a mouse in the ladies room. OK, there wasn't any stereotypical screaming, but I did hear some female voice agreeing that they each were not going to touch it.

The director came to my door and asked if I would get the mouse out of the ladies room. I was reassured it was a baby--what's reassuring about that?

I picked up a dish towel and was fully expecting to be removing a dead mouse. My surprise was that he was alive and as cute as could be. I scooped him up and headed to the door. He weighed nothing. He was "this big", yet I could feel his body heat through two layers of fluffy dish towel.

My heart was breaking! I knew I had to expel this little critter from the office area, but I also knew that meant putting him out in the cold. Where's Ellie Mae Clampett when you need her?

What Do We Call Him? Part 2

2011-11-11T16:16:00.000-05:00

Way back in 1991, I entered the world of congregational ministry. My first role in following my calling was as a 22 year old summer youth minister. Yes, I led Bible studies, chaperoned youth camp and managed to live through a few lock-ins. Much of my ministry was accomplished as a Christian older brother at best, and on some days as just another big kid (I do mean that in the best possible terms).

Then came that fateful Sunday morning. A seventh grader came to Sunday School with some questions about the upcoming trip we were going to take. It wasn't her fault. She was raised right and only doing what she was supposed to do. She began, "Mr. Chip, I have a question..."

I answered her question, and then I told her, "You don't have to call me 'mister'. I'm not really that much older than you, and the way I like to do youth ministry is as friends, do you understand?"

She nodded and replied, "Yes, sir."

And so the curse began. Ever since that day I have been a thousand years old.

2011-08-11T15:31:00.004-05:00

What do we call him? Part 1
Ever since I was a couple days old, the question has been asked, "What do we call him?" I was the first baby boy in our family. Because of that, I inherited my given name Emory Luther Reeves, Jr. You can call me any of those if you like--I might not answer to "Junior" unless you're my dad.

Well, there in good ol' Roper Hospital in Charleston, a friend asked my mother, "What will you call him?" I guess the prevailing logic was that should Momma need assistance and yell, "Emory!" that neither my dad or I would come running believing she meant the other one. A few nicknames were batted about. I was this close to being Em. Finally the friend suggested, "Call him Chip."

In 1969, "Chip" was the proper nickname to give a youngster in order say a little more about the boy's parents relationship to "the man". To put this in perspective, my wife's middle name is Lalena (la-lay-nya), which is the title of a Deep Purple song, ya dig?

I have had fun all my life being Chip. The good thing about having the nickname is that I have enjoyed getting to define who Chip is without a lot of worry about being Emory. Of course, as a teenager, he would always remind me, "Remember whose son you are." Wasn't hard to forget. It's on my driver's license and Social Security card.

There was that short period of time when I contemplated a name change. I had reached one of those rites of passage moments in life and I felt that as a more mature individual I wanted to go by a name that would welcome people to take me more seriously. "Call me Emory," I requested--the day I graduated from kindergarten.

I probably don't have to tell you that "Chip" quite often finds too many prefixes and suffixes easily attached. I don't mind. There are listeners who don't hear and they call me Skip or Jim, and there are readers who don't look closely and they call me Chris. I have devious plans for these folks. I even hope for the opportunity to butcher their names over a loudspeaker one day. "It's a pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Juh-hon Su-mitt-huh!" Oh yeah, John Smith, you're on my list.

2011-08-03T14:06:00.000-05:00

A Basket Case
In the summer of 2000 I spent 6 weeks on mission in Moldova. There are a lot of stories I can tell about that trip, but one of them actually happened today.

One of the presents I brought back for my wife was a bread basket. It was one of those rare occasions when a husband actually gets ir right. Trisha loved the basket and we used it at many meals, especially when we would have company over. Then, I could tell mission trip stories, and we could both talk about being apart for 6 weeks and how good it is to be together. Anyways, the bread basket became one of those go-to symbols of hospitality in our home.

A few years ago, we were about to have friends over for lunch and Trisha asked, "Where's The Basket?" We own plenty of baskets, but I knew which one she was talking about. We searched all over the house and couldn't find it. We gave up, resigning that this basket had been lost in transit over a few years. It was somewhere between Maryland, Savannah, Atlanta and Allendale, SC.

This week, Trisha and I are apart for a few days, while I start working at First Baptist Church of Evans, GA, and she oversees packing and moving. We won't have lots of stories to tell, but there will be a few. For instance, the refrigerator in the parsonage in Allendale died two nights ago. Trisha woke up to puddles of water in the kitchen and the chore of throwing away the food in the refrigerator and freezer. She let the church know about the broken appliance, and a repairman was dispatched. He arrived on Wednesday and gave the bad news about the passing of the compressor. I think a new refrigerator is in the works for the next pastor in Allendale--you're welcome, buddy!

Here's the story. The repairman had to pull the refrigerator out from the wall to work on it. Behind the refrigerator was a red cup and some magnetic letters perhaps belonging to the previous family. Also back there, probably for our whole term in Allendale, was The Basket. Poor thing was caked in dust. It was lost, but now it's found, dare I say.

Moving and starting a new job comes with a fair amount of stress I hear. Transition can be a word that scares people. In the middle of some anxiety, are stories about lost treasure being found: God's consistency even when life is in flux, my wife's phone call with a joyful story to share, and even the basket we'll use again to welcome friends old and new.

2011-06-27T21:31:00.000-05:00

Don't Knock It...
Last summer I had one of the most harrowing experiences of my lifetime. If you're new here, you need to know I'm exaggerating. I could have written the same words about the blood drive band aid I just peeled off my gotta-be-kin-to-Chewbacca elbow joint.

Now back to the situation at hand (thank you Snoop), last summer, the boys and I were at the produce market where I set out to choose a watermelon. I thumped and knocked a few of them. I settled on the winner, and we headed home. We set this baby in the refrigerator for a cooling (colding?) spell. When the time came to carve it up, we discovered the watermelon was nowhere close to being ripe. I mean the inside was more white than pink and nowhere close to being red--ooh! I believe I have also just aptly described my pre-sunburn complexion!

I was immediately dismayed. Growing up in my daddy's grocery store and making a part-time college career out of running a roadside produce stand, I was ashamed of myself. I felt bad. I worried. Had I lost my "ear"? The rest of the summer, when we wanted watermelon, my mantra was, "Quit being so prideful and trust the pros." I asked for help, and I would ask, "Can I eat this one today?"

This Saturday, we brought home the first watermelon of the summer. The previous watermelon does not count since it was the last watermelon of late, late spring, and, yes, it was an unripened disaster, thank you very much. The former was also selected without professional help, but it only made it to the car after lots (LOTS!) of thumping and knocking. I still don't trust myself. To prove a point, I made the command decision once we got home to let it sit on the porch for one more day. This proved an effective strategy, and good things did come to those who waited. Sunday afternoon gave us a sweet, mid-afternoon snack well worth the wait. 24 more hours would have proven even nicer, but who's got that kind of patience!

I'm holding off on crowing about success with an "I'm back, baby!" The jury is still out. Maybe I was going through something of a rough patch last summer. Maybe I was distracted. I did feel like someone from the South Carolina Department of Agriculture was going to show up and have me exiled as a sous chef on the set of March of the Penguins 2.

What I do know is this: I have found a good illustration for the next time the lectionary deals me "Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear." No, it will not replace my reference to White Men Can't Jump's "You can't hear Jimi!" And shame on you, spellcheck, for highlighting "Jimi". Really??

2011-06-08T12:53:00.002-05:00

That's In The Bible???
(more than likely a title you will see here again)

Last week I had one of those encounters with the real, live Bible. I was reading a familiar passage in Luke 1, Mary's visit to Elizabeth. There, I read a verse which I had never seen or heard in my life--of course, I'm exaggerating... I think...

Every time I read this passage before, the story stopped with Elizabeth telling Mary she was special and qualifying that quality in her by saying, "Even the baby in my womb jumped for joy" (Yes, I'm paraphrasing). This has always been the cue for the soloist to start singing the Magnificat. In my latest reading, however, Someone had inserted a new verse for me to read before we could commence with all the magnifying. It said...
     And blessed is she who believed that there would
     be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.

Yes, it really is there. Luke 1:45. Really, I'm not kidding!

All "not kidding" aside, this verse turned out to be a word that I really needed to hear. For me, it spoke to me about the reason I was reading the Bible that day in the first place. I read the Bible a lot, but as a pastor, there are many times when I do so for the sake of Sunday's sermon or Wednesday night's study. This time, I was reading for me, and I got a blessing that tells me God is going to do what God promised. Was Paul paraphrasing Elizabeth when he said:
    I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)?

That good work has been started in all of us. Hail, friend, you are blessed, and it makes us all jump for joy!

2011-05-10T09:41:00.001-05:00

People Who Pray

Have you ever underestimated the power of prayer? Here’s a shocker: I have! I imagine I have too many such occasions to name. I realize that part of my testimony now has to include many people, both known and unknown, who have prayed for me.

20 years ago when I finally got up the courage to talk with my dad about my calling to ministry, it was another moment to discover the prayers offered up by the children of God. After asking several questions about what I was feeling and understanding about being called, Daddy told me, "Son, you don’t know this, but this is something I have been praying about for you for a long time." Today, I am still finding out what that means.

Recently, at the KAIROS weekend at Allendale Correctional Institution, I was blessed again to pray for others and pray with others. While the KAIROS ministry was happening inside the prison, countless volunteers on the outside were lifting us up in prayer. People signed up to pray around the clock to cover every moment of our ministry with prayer.

On Friday morning of KAIROS, I was on the program to give a talk about this very subject, a word of encouragement to the residents that they were not alone–people were praying for them. To make this matter a little intriguing, I had forgotten that I was on the schedule. Fellow KAIROS team members greeting me first thing that morning offering to assist with the talk, to which I replied, "What talk?" Once we got that settled, I had plenty of time to get ready, and still plenty of willing helpers in my colleagues.

The time for the talk came around, and I walked toward the community room. Just before I got to the door, a friend named John caught me and asked, "You wanna pray?" I thought he said, "You gonna pray?" I replied, "Yeah, the talk outline says I’m supposed to lead the group in the prayer on page 11 in the prayer book." John was confused for a couple seconds, then he replied, "That’s good, and would you like to pray with me before you go in and do the talk?"

John and I prayed together before the talk. I am glad we did. It was a spiritual help to me. While I was speaking, I could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in the room with us. I was able to see the faces of a number of prisoners who were being blessed by what I had to say. When I finished the talk, guess what? John and I prayed together again. We offered up a lot of thanksgivings and prayed for more of the outpouring of God’s spirit while we ministered together with our fellow team members and the residents at the prison.

I am certain that I will have more stories to tell about being surprised by answered prayers and the hearts of the people who have offered them. Some very powerful words of ministry which we can give each other are, "May I pray with you?" and "Will you pray for me?". Amen.

Peace to you,
Chip

2009-01-27T19:48:00.002-05:00

Important Instructions for Appreciative Gourmets

Today’s conversations about my girlfriend—Little Debbie—brought to mind a memory of what I believe is the proper way to consume a Swiss Cake Roll. For the record, it is not the egg roll of snack foods. The Swiss Cake Roll is to be experienced. In order to appreciate it to the fullest degree of sweet goodness… it must be dismantled.

This might not be a “how to” course for everyone. It is probably more of a refresher. For some it will simply put to prose what they accomplish daily (even bi- or tri-daily?).

There is some debate among the pros about what should be Step One. Perhaps some healthy discussion will yield a strong opinion one way or the other.

Step One. Eat the chocolate coating off of the outside of the roll. This must be done without damaging the chocolate cake beneath the coating. Should the cake be damaged, eat that one and start over with Roll #2. More points are given relative to how much chocolate you can get to come off in a single sheet.

Step One. Find the “seam” at the bottom of the roll. This is where a thick caulking of chocolate holds the whole she-bang together. Uncaulking the seam seems to be where some folks start and then move on the thinner chocolate sheet removal (see Step One).

Step Two. Unroll the roll. Should this result in damage to the cake, eat the damaged roll and begin again with Roll #2.

Step Three. Cremesumption. Eat the filling without doing damage to the cake, of course. Should damage occur—well, you oughta know the process by now.

Step Four. Return what remains to roll shape avoiding damage to the delicacy. Keep in mind what you should do if damage occurs. Eat the re-rolled roll.

Step Five. Repeat steps One, One, Two, Three and Four with Roll #2.

Step Six. What do I mean Step Six? Haven’t I already eaten both cakes in the package? Well, that is true, but there is still work to be done. There is the matter of scraping clean that white cardboard square found below your rolls. There. You will find chocolate coating, cake and perhaps stray filling that have anchored your Swiss Cake Rolls in the packaging. Hasting unwrapping can also result in a coating stick to the cellophane. All of this can be extricated with a few quick scrapes across the bottom teeth.

Lunchroom attendees take heed! The white square from beneath Swiss Cake Rolls is almost as valuable a piece of currency as the top off a chocolate Snack Pack. Some kid will always “trade ya” for it.

P.S. I rolled the dice taking a great risk the littledebbie.com was the right URL. Whew!

2008-12-19T22:46:00.002-05:00

Earth-Shakin' Stuff
First, I do need to apologize for not updating the blog for a while. Been in kind of a funk, but good friends have helped me see things more clearly/dearly etc. Sing that song to yourself now, and I promise [sic] it'll never happen again. It probably is redundant for me to ever use "[sic]", since you already know I'm going to be sarcastic. I simply feel like my bracket keys are very underused. But now I'm rambling.

OK, on to the most devastating news you may ever hear from me. Last week I discovered something about me, that I myself would not have believed only moments before it happened. This would be a good time to say, "Okey dokey, pards, see ya next time!" and leave you hanging for 8 more weeks when I decide to blog again. That would be wrong. Many of you are too good to me, you need to hear this now.

Here's the disclaimer. What you are about to read could prove so shocking that it could harm our friendships. If you read it that way, know that I am alread begging for your forgiveness, but I will understand if you want to drop me. Prepare youself, this is a doozie.

Monday evening, while I was on the way back from hospital visits in Augusta, I spotted the neon glow of the Krispy Kreme sign. It beckoned me, "Hot doughnuts now." Folks, Jason and the Argonauts had an easier time with temptation--and they're a rock band!! Well, for some strange reason my car turned into Krispy Kreme. I got a cup of coffee and a dozen "hot ones".

While I ate the first one, I caught my self commenting, "I don't see what the big deal is." What the heck was that?? I ate two more to test my earlier hypothesis rendering very similar results. What you are about to read may hurt your feelings, but I do not particularly care for hot Krispy Kreme dougnnuts.

It sounds. . . um . . . it sounds . . . unAmerican! Don't get me wrong, I love Krispy Kreme dougnuts, but a chocolte cream filled or a sour cream or the doughnut of the month sounds more fun to me. Why not hot? I guess it goes back to my first exposure to the treats via school fundraisers. I think I'd prefer that variety to one just picked off the line. I know some of y'all are screaming right now. All I can say is, "It's not you. It's me." Maybe I just got hold of a bad batch. We can try it again some time.

2008-11-13T09:22:00.001-05:00

Ahh… Good ‘ol NPR
I woke up this morning learning of Major League Baseball’s awarding of American League Manager of the Year to Joe Maddon. This was not unexpected since he led the Tampa Bay Rays to the World Series.
I was hearing this report on NPR. This always makes me laugh a little. I don’t know if they are trying to prove that they are “with it” at NPR with their slight tips of the cap to the world of sports, but it comes across rather comical . . . “In Major League Baseball last night, the Atlanta Braves won a contest against the Metropolitans of New York, 3 runs to 2.”
This morning’s laugh was not from the Joe Maddon announcement. The voice on the radio also informed me of the new National League Manager of the Year with that public radio flair of one who knew noting about sports: “Lou Piniella (pronounced PEEN-yay-la) of the Chicago Cubs.”
I wonder if they asked Ken Burns how to pronounce it and he’s the one laughing more this morning. I also hope Lou heard it, because I would like to flashback to 1991 and again hear, “Get off me, Lou!” but this time it’s in that monotone, lullaby voice that tries to wake me up each morning.

2008-10-17T08:17:00.002-05:00

Two Painting Projects

First, I've gotta lay in a little interior latex around the new door (I want to thank my neighbor James for painting the door and frame). Then I have to go upstairs to the "studio" to do some watercolor work. Of course, I am delaying getting started on both. I haven't had enough coffee yet--yeah, that's a good excuse.

The new door in the parsonage has to do with our adoption process. The old door was great, but buried under a few decades of paint was a layer of lead paint. To remove the lead paint the "legal way" would have been more involved and more expensive than replacing the door. Besides it always looks cooler when you're rolling out of Lowes with the big cart and a helper.

Last Saturday, I started taking a water color--wait, what? You're not interested in that right now? Well, what do you want me to talk about? The A-word in the above paragraph? Ohhh...

Way back in December, Trisha and I decided, after talking about it for years, that we would adopt some children. Yes, that's right, I said "some"! We felt like we are able to take on more than one and catch up with our brothers and sisters in one fell swoop. We contacted the Department of Social Services, and got the ball rolling on adopting children. We have filled out tons of paper work. We have been to classes. Our home has been inspected by DHEC, the fire marshal, and the lead risk assessment inspector (hence the new door). Now our file is complete and we are waiting to hear that we are approved. Then we'll start the process of having children placed in our home.

Why "some"? There are several children in foster care and other situations who are siblings. Many times the processes do not work out in favor of keeping them together as brothers and sisters. We want to help at least one bunch stay together. Did I just say "bunch"? It's getting scary now.

Pray for us. We'll always need that. We are looking forward to being parents. We want to rush the process, but we know it might move at a glacier's pace.

Maybe by the time the children do get here, I'll have a few masterpieces from my watercolor class that I can hang in their rooms. There might even be a mixed media work of off-white interior latex and cat hair. First, I need some more coffee.

2008-09-01T09:05:00.003-05:00

Home Cookin?
Poor CC Sabathia. He came "this close" to throwing a no-hitter yesterday against the Pirates. The media outcry this morning is that Pittsburgh's official scorer should have given CC an error in the bottom of the 5th inning. The Brewers' pitcher failed to cleanly field an Andy LaRoche dribbler off of the third base side of the mound. LaRoche was safe and Pirates' official scorer Bob Webb gave him an infield hit.

Here's Webb's explanation of the moment:

"It was a spinning ball," official scorer Bob Webb said immediately after
the conclusion of the game. "It's to the right of a left-handed pitcher. In my
view from the beginning of the play, it's not an ordinary play to make.

"It is difficult both because of the spin and because he has to make the
play and turn completely around, and the runner was well down the line. It would
have been a very difficult play to make. In my view, it was a hit as a result of
those factors."

When the game was over, there was some crying from Brewers payers and their manager that CC got robbed of a no-hitter. There is even talk this morning that Major League Baseball might try to convince Webb to change his ruling.

Change the scoring? This should not happen. If you want to throw a no hitter, it really has a lot to do with every batter, so apparently this was not on CC's mind in the FIFTH INNING! Had it been, perhaps he should have booted the ball into the duggout, though you would never, ever convince me that a Major League player would commit an error on purpose.

But what if Bob Webb is convinced to change what he put down on his score card? What would happen?

First, I imagine Nolan Ryan would have some "lovely" things to say about this. I think I would prefer to see CC have to fight Nolan Ryan to get his no hitter. As proven by Robin Ventura, though, to charge a mound occupied by Nolan Ryan is indeed an error in itself--so Webb would have to change the score and give CC 2 errors.

Maybe the Brewers would have CC throw out the first pitch tonight against the Mets and then have the entire team dogpile him to celebrate the rarity. Well, every player but Ben Sheets, who starts tonight and needs to stay healthy enough to no-hit the Mets--how hard could that be?

I hope the score doesn't change. I have to say something righteous here. The integrity of the game is at stake! Ooohh, yeah, that oughta do it. Of course the present regime, pardon me, commissioner's office is well known for looking after the integrity of the game.

2008-08-18T20:12:00.008-05:00

Radiant Cross
Last week at Prayer Meetin', I handed out a copy of a piece of Mexican folk art that was in Christian Century last month. The drawing was based on the radiant cross. I am thankful that in seminary I had a professor who liked to show us lots of pictures. We learned that in a lot of Christian art work depicting the cross that it can be a source of light in the painting. That is, people in the painting are not illuminated by the sun or a lamp. The "light" in the painting would come from the cross or Jesus' body.

In other traditions, the radiant cross is used for a symbol in first communion celebrations. You can even buy a lot of party supplies for your after-church shindigs.
Here's what I gave my folks.

Suggestion: open this in another window.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/27726669@N05/2775965605/

At first glance it does look a little ordinary. If you focus on the cross in the center, though, those concentric circles and the dots have something of a pulse to it. This flat, black and white drawing becomes what I like to call optical theology.

Give it a try. You might want to enlarge and print out this picture for yourself (jury's still out on what staring at a computer screen too long will do to you). See what I mean? This drawing has a lot of movement.

OK, now pray with that. Lend you imagination to the movement a little. The artist probably did not have only one right answer in mind. My general explanation is this: the cross is often seen as a rather flat symbol, you know, death, resurrection, yadda, yadda. In this picture, though, there are a lot of things that are bouncing around with the cross at the center. Remember what was given to give us life--no yadda about it!

Someting else happened to me while I stared at this picture. I got a little too close to it, a theological statement in itself. I ended up unable to focus both eyes to make one target and saw two pictures. I was then staring at two crosses. I had to remember something else important that came right to me. One cross was Jesus' and the other my own.

2008-08-12T12:52:00.003-05:00

So long, Skip.

Tonight, the Braves will play their first home game since the death of Skip Caray last week. I am certain there will be a good tribute to him at Turner Field. Here is mine:

The most recent Skip-ism caught me about a little over a month ago. The Braves game was coming on the radio. Skip welcomed the listners to the broadcast with words he'd spoken for a number of years, "Hello again, everybody." I gasped. It finally hit me that Skip used the very same greeting his father employed as he began Chicago Cubs games. It was a subtle tribute every time he was on the air.

Skip very often said "we" when referring to the Braves. He did it win or lose. It makes me a little self-conscious when I catch myself saying "you" in sermons.

Of course, I remember the call in 1995 which concluded the World Series . . .

Skip: There's a drive! Deep left-center! Grissom on the runnnn--yes!

Don Sutton: Yes!

Skip: Yes!

Don: Yes!

Skip: The Atlanta Braves have given you a championship!

Don: Yes!

Being in a line of work where I often struggle to come up with the right things to say, sometimes the best thing to do is let a moment speak for itself.

2008-07-30T07:40:00.003-05:00

Titletown, USA
For the past several weeks, ESPN has travelled arond the country to find the community they could crown "Titletown, USA". Thre was, at first, a small problem with that. Green Bay, Wisconson had given themselves that appelation and had even copywrighted the term. I don't know if ESPN ever got permission, but I guess they got at least a blessing--no lawsuits in the sports pages between Green Bay and ESPN.

Well, after weeks of cheesy human/community interest stories on SportsCenter, the honor of being Titletown, USA was bestowed on Valdosta, GA. For a very long time, it has been the high school football capital of the world. If there really is something as a high school national championship, they've won at least 3 or 4 at Valdosta High School. Lowndes County High has won 3 out of the last 4 state championships. Jesse Tuggle played college football at Div II powerhouse Valdosta State. All these facts were mentioned on Sports Center along with J. D. Drew being from the south Georgia town. They failed to mention that pro wrestling superstar Buff Bagwell claims Valdosta was well.

Viewers called in and voted for who should be known as Titletown. Valdosta captured over 29% of the votes. 29%!! Could a small city in south Georgia have stuffed the ballot box? If so, they deserve the title because they have passionate fan support. OR it could actually be that Valdosta has a reputation that would garner votes from across the country. This is possible. In 1991 as a Charleston Southern mission trip group made its way back to campus from New Orleans, we planned our route to include a stretch of US Hwy 84 which took us right through Valdosta. Why? Because even back then we had heard of their reputation as a football powerhouse. 17 years later it's Titletown, USA.

This makes me glad because it reflects more of the culture of our whole country were communities rally around what is happening on Friday nights instead of Saturday afternoon. No offense, Valdosta State, but you have to admit you are probably struggling to be in third place in popularity in your market (depending on when Buff's in town).

I am also glad that Columbus, OH did not win.

2008-07-17T13:48:00.004-05:00

Don't Turn Around-uh-uh-oh!

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the next great thing in marriage enrichment . . . introducing tandem synchronized iPod shuffle-ing!

Many evenings Trisha and I will go for a walk. When we go, we usually both will listen to our respective iPods. That is to say that we'll walk together but she'll listen to her music and I'll listen to mine. I had expressed the following idea before, but someone I love declared, "That's impossible!" Two evenings ago, I brought it up again, and this time the notion intrigued the social scientist side of my wife's personality. I unpacked a plan for us to listen to the same songs at the same time while using two separate machines. The alternative was to use only 1 iPod and share the earbuds.

Step One. Compile a playlist. We actually had a playlist draft to pick songs that we each would want to hear . . . "Mr. Commissioner, with the second pick of the fourth round, the man's iPod chooses 'Fergalicious'!"

Step Two. Sync your iPod's. You have to make sure that the playlist is in the order you want. Be careful when you sync the second iPod. Our computer wanted to put the second sync in order by artist's name. Something we discovered the second song into our walk.

Step Three. Set the iPods to play songs in order. "Shuffle" will have you out of sync.

Step Four. Start the iPods simultaneously. We actually had that Lethal Weapon moment the first time we tried it. "You mean 1-2-3 and then shoot or 1-2 then shoot on 3?" The solution was to have one person hit both start buttons. It helps here to listen to one earbud from each iPod.

Step Five. Be sure to lip sync or even sing to each other. It's fun, and, of course, nothing will freak out your neighbors more than seeing the two of you bounding up to them with your white earbuds in and all of a sudden declaring in unison "Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?"

The Future? Since this is a new phenomenon for us, I can't push this too far or too fast lest we crash and burn. I thnk we need to add "The Electric Slide" to the playlist just so one day passers by will see us dancing, to apparently no music, in the post office parking lot.

2008-07-07T09:30:00.002-05:00

Pilgrimage
I recently attended a workshop on spiritual formation. One of the practices we were encouraged to undertake was to go on a "pilgrimage" every 7 to 10 years. That is, to take a trip to a sacred place.
As I thought about where that sacred place might be for me, it occurred to me that I might already have been on a pilgrimage--of sorts.
In the summer of 1997 I led a youth group on a mission trip to Chicago. On our day off, we went to Wrigley Field to see the Cubs play the SanFrancisco Giants. There were several "holy moments" when the baseball part of my soul got to catch up with the things I had only seen on televison.
It was a day game, a grand tradition at Wrigley. There really was ivy growing on the outfield walls. Sammy Sosa made his game opening lap of right filed, waving at all the "Bleacher Bums". We had semi-obstructed view seats. The wind was blowing out. JT Snow hit a home run to Right that got thrown back. Sammy Sosa hit a home run for the Cubs (so did Brian McRae). Ryne Sandberg played second base. Mark Grace played first. The Cubs won 6-3 and they raised the "W" banner beside the scoreboard.
The "most spiritual" moment, of course, came just moments after Darryl Hamilton struck out swinging to end the top of the 7th. I grabbed Trisha by the hand and said, "C'mon, let's go!" She didn't understand want was going on. "You need to see this," I explained as I led her down the first base side of the stadium toward right field. Our seats were semi-obstructed related to the view of the field, completely obstructed when it came to seeing the press box. I was almost running and dragging my wife along. I kept checking over my left shoulder to see if we could see. About the time we got "clear", I turned my wife back toward home plate where we both got to see Harry Carey pop out of the broadcast booth to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame."
That was an experience that will stay with me for a long time. I could try to do some theological reflection on all of those expereinces that day, but I will be content to preserve some of those those images for moments when my soul (the baseball part or even all of it) might need them. Of course, if your soul has need, come by and I'll tell you the stories in person.
Yesterday, when I was listening to the Braves game, Chipper Jones hit a home run in the bottom of the first. The thought hit me . . . At that moment in Turner Field, there were many people who were there for the first time taking in sights and sounds and experiences that they might have only previously seen on TV. There were kids there wearing #10 jerseys and t-shirts who got to see their favorite player hit a home run. Surely they also deserve some kind of bonus if they stayed for all 17 innings. Who knows what their own pilgrimages might have accomplished for their souls?

2008-07-02T07:46:00.002-05:00

Sharing the Love
Summertime always brings us such a wonderful array of odd television shows. Here are a few rapid fire reviews . . .
Wipeout: Boring! I was hoping it would be something like Most Extreme Elimination, the Japanese game show often "marathoned" on Spike TV, but it cannot live up to that caliber of entertainment. It's just an obstacle course show with poorly rendered sarcasm. Et tu, John Henson?
I Survived a Japanese Game Show: This is a little better. You get the fun of MXE mixed with a little Survivor strategy. It takes an hour, and you do notice.
My Name is Earl reruns: Make sure you get TBS and watch this American classic. My favorite episode was on last week where Joy is on the "happy pills" and she goes off, though still in happy mode, on her neighbors then compliments them on their dancing Santa. "Oh snap!"
America's Got Talent: not watching it.
Last Comic Standing: ditto.
Dodgeball: whenever that movie is on, I stop and watch. What's our motto? Aim low?
Braves baseball on FSN/SportsSouth/Peachtree TV: Sometimes rewarding. Sometimes painful. You would have won a bet trying to convince me that Brent Lillibridge is almost 25 years old.
Accompanying most of these great broadcasts is, I contend, the beer commercial of the year. Heineken hopes to sell its new Premium Light via their "Share the Good" spot. When I first saw this commercial I commented, "Oh man, that was a Coke commercial--for beer!" Take a look . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sn-NtOXFE3Y
At first glance, I judged this beer ad to be the millennial version of "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing." I wondered, "Can we do that with beer?" Was Heineken treading on some sacred space in our culture that for at least 35 years has preached world peace could be achieved with a candle in one hand and a Coke in the other? After seeing the commercial several more times, I felt a little different. This one is supposed to be sarcastic, and, yes, it is even funny. You probably don't need me to tell you what's funny, but trust me anyway. For as much as Michelob Ultra commercials wanted to be Gatorade commercials, the Heineken Premium Light commercial is not a Coke ad. It's actually beating up the Coke ad during recess--and we're in summer school! When we get a little bit closer to the Olympics, I imagine Coke will trot out several "world united" spots and you to might be able to see that Heineken has already made fun of it and perhaps even pointed out that "the Emperor is naked".

2008-06-26T14:16:00.003-05:00

Dear Charleston Southern,
If you did notice the return address for this missive you might already know that the above salutation is given tongue firmly implanted in cheek. I am a little upset over CSU dropping Men's Tennis from the athletic program. Alas, poor men's tennis, I knew them well . . . but the program is yet another vicitm of the need to supply more football scholarships in order for that program to try to become competitive. The infamous NCAA rule known as "Title IX" dictates that scholarships for women's sports cannot be out of proportion with men's sports (I don't know if the ration is supposed to be 50:50--you're on the Internet, you look it up!). What this means is that if CSU wanted to add football scholarships (think they do?), they would also have to add scholarships for women's sports. To do this without raising more money means that another men's program has to lose scholarships or even lose the program altogether. Ergo men's tennis and their sacrificed forefathers men's soccer. Who could have seen this coming?
Why, thank you, I will toot my own horn. Take a look at this . . .
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27726669@N05/2613293229/sizes/l/
Hate to be a party pooper, but please cancel my reservation for the Miami trip.

2008-06-23T12:27:00.002-05:00

Fantasy vs. Reality

I have been playing fantasy baseball for a number of years now. It finally got me into trouble.

A couple of weeks ago Trisha and I were watching the Braves play the Cubs. The Braves were getting shut out by the Cubs, thanks to pitching by Ryan Dempster. In the top of the 7th inning Corky Miller came up to pinch hit for Atlanta. He crushed, as Harry Carry would say, "a high . . . fly ball" to left field. At the ball flew I said--out loud, "C'mon, catch that." Well, Corky Miller's shot was caught . . . by a Cubs fan in the left field stands, but my supplication was also caught . . . by my wife.
"What did you say?"
"Uhh . . . nothing . . ."
"No, you said, 'C'mon, catch that.' What did you mean by that?"
I was busted. I had been rooting for Ryan Dempster to play well because he was on my fantasy baseball team. If Corky Miller's ome run had been a fly ball out instead, Dempster would have earned me a complete game shutout, rare points in fantasy baseball.
Trisha's response to this was a rather angry, "This is not fatasy baseball; this is REAL baseball!" as she pointed at the television.
All I could do was confess my wrongdoing and beg forgiveness.

2008-05-22T08:49:00.005-05:00

Solomon's Nightgown

Down home in Reevesville, in the field where we used to play football, my father has planted daylilies. That sounds a little tame. Imagine enough yard space for at least 6 boys to have a lot of room for a football game. Now, imagine that space full of flowers. What word comes between garden and farm?

It is very close to peak daylily season in Reevesville. When last I was down there, Dad gave me a few plants to bring back home with me. I have decided to be his discount outlet store, so I loaded the car with 32 plants to find good homes for west of "the swamp".

The one thing I have learned about daylilies is statistics. Every variety of the flower has a pedigree and a detailed description that rivals the information on the back of Topps baseball card from the '80's. Here you can learn if you plants are evergreen or dormant. You can get a good estimate of how tall the stalks (scapes) will be and how big the blossoms will be.

Over the last 15 years, Dad has moved over 600 varieties of daylily through the "farden". When I was raiding the clearance aisle, he pointed out one in particular, lending some statistical analysis, "Take that one, it's real pretty."

Yesterday evening, I noticed something odd about this plant. I had to go look it up--turn its "card" over. The daylily known as Tuscawilla Taj Mahal is evergreen, throws right, bats right, hit .387 in it's last year in the minors, and it's NOCTURNAL. The unusual thing I saw was that at 7:30 p.m. it was starting to open. I checked it again at midnight, and it had opened more. At 4:00 a.m. it was in full bloom.

Jesus told his followers not to worry. "Consider the lilies of the field, "he said, "They neither toil nor spin, but I tell you the truth, even Solomon in all his splendor was not clothed like one of these." It is so easy to give in to anxiety. It is so easy to let our fears paralyze us. We have heard it's always darkest before the dawn, but scientifically, we know it is darkest at midnight with 6-7 more hours of dark to come. Having hope as followers of Jesus means that we hold on to that hope when it would be a whole lot easier to be hopeless. Even in our own darkness, it's a great help to know that there are lilies that bloom at night. "Will He not much more clothe you?"

2008-05-01T16:11:00.004-05:00

The Mission Mezuzah

Over the last 5 weeks our church has been studying what it means to be a missional church.

Missional? Is that a word? According to spellcheck on Word it is not. But the word comes from South African missiologists who don't like to put h's in Jo-n, so I'm not too worried that Microsoft does not yet know the term. My favorite definition comes from Rick Bennett who says that it is being the presence of Christ on purpose. Another Baptist friend added the being a missional church is being the presnce of Christ on purpose for the sake of others whether anybody joins your church or not. That last phrase scared my Sunday school class a little.

One thing I have said for a long time is that we preachers need to preach "to the benediction". By that I mean that even our worship services are commissional and that each week we come to a point of sending our churches out to meet and pastor their own individual churches. This makes the benediction a time to bless (ordain?) the shepherds of a number of flocks.Our preaching should always imply and at times overstate that we are the ones Jesus was talking to saying, "Go therefore . . ." And he probably did it holding up at least one hand.

One of this week's devotional lessons asked the question, how do you go about proclaiming Christ's love? The answer? "Any way imaginable is possible when your heart is wiling to have your life transformed from self-centeredness and given to God's power and plan."

This devotion prompted 4 questions that I think we should ask ourselves daily.
Where will you go today?
What will you do today?
Who is waiting for you help today?
How will you go about proclaiming Christ's love?

Maybe we should ask them before we get out of bed. Maybe we should post them by the door and read them before we walk out to our days. Perhaps they should be encased in a Missional Mezuzah to remind us we are, as the Blues Brothers so richly proclaimed, "on a mission from God".

2008-04-14T09:04:00.002-05:00

Cuban baseball update
Well, Los Gallos took the Lowlanders to 7 games, but Pinar del Rio beat Sancti Spiritus 7-6 to move on and face Santiago de Cuba for the championship. Wouldn't it be great if that was always the worst news coming out of Cuba?
Cuba is still viewed by the United States government as a terrorist state (a la President Bush's "axis of evil"). Restrictions on travelling to Cuba have gotten tighter, as have restrictions on Cubans travelling to the US. Our embargo deeply affects their economy. The cold war has been "over" for quite some time now, but we still treat a nearby neighbor as a threat. I wish our country would take the first step in a better relationship. I believe that real diplomatic relations between the US and Cuba might make things better. I am praying for this.

2008-04-07T21:06:00.003-05:00

Let's be careful out there.
Folks, you didn't hear this from me, but the Internet can be a rather dangerous place. If you don't type so well, you could enter the wrong URL and be well on your way toward viewing objectionable content via the good intention paved path of helping your teenager with his biology homework. "Dot com" instead of "dot edu" could spell disaster (actually it only spells . c-o-m).
For the sake of your further education, though, I quintuple dog dare you to visit
www.uniquesplits.com
If you can locate their product. I believe you will be glad you did.

2008-04-04T10:53:00.007-05:00

Cuba's Final Four
Well . . . while most of the sports world's attention is turned toward San Antonio for the NCAA men's basketball championships, I am planning on watching baseball. Of course, I'll take in as many Braves' games that are directed my way. I'm also enjoying the free preview of MLB Extra Innings on Direct TV. Mostly, though, I will be watching games on the Internet as the semi-finals in the Cuban National League get under way tonight.

I have gone on 4 mission trips to Cuba. My first trip in 2002 was during the baseball playoffs. We went to the game in Sancti Spiritus, and it was in that atmosphere that I realized I might be a pitiful sports fan. The fans in the stadium, as well as the majority of the Cuban population pin their hopes on their local teams. They tend to live and die with each pitch of the game. Add a salsa beat to the mix and I think you can glimpse the picture slightly. I must also mention that the best popcorn I've ever eaten was in Sancti Spiritus at estadio José Antonio Huelga (and only 1 peso!).

One cool note regarding this year's semi-finals is that all of the Havana teams have been eliminated from the playoffs. Pinar del Rio swept Industriales and Sancti Spiritus took out La Habana (oh yeah, the other Havana team Los Metropolitanos didn't make the playoffs). I would liken this to having the Yankees, Mets, and Red Sox knocked out of the MLB playoffs by the wild card team --heaven for the for the rest of the baseball world.

Here's your final four preview.

Eastern Conference Finals - Santiago de Cuba vs. Villa Clara
Game 1 tonight (Friday 4/4)

What? Do you really think I can offer expert analysis here? Sorry, who do you think I am, Peter Gammons? Here's what I know, the Hornets (Santiago) are the defending champions and the Oranges are the Cinderellas at this dance. Quote from VC's web site: "Santiago is a freight train, but trains derail." OOOOOOHH!!

Western Conference Finals - Sancti Spiritus vs. Pinar del Rio
Game 1, Saturday night (4/5)

How'd you like your favorite team to be known as the Holy Spirit Gamecocks? I guess that's the best translation for Los Gallos de Sancti Spiritus who'll host the LowLanders from tobacco country Saturday night. Let's hope our boys don't lay an egg. I take back the Cinderella comment and give it to the Gamecocks. They finished third in their division and bring the worst record (48-40) into the playoffs. Wild card? OK.

Pinar del Rio is the home of current Minnesota Twin Livan Hernandez. They still miss him back home and have refused to let pitcher Pedro Luis Lazo retire (99's not just his jersey #) until Livan moves back home.

Wanna watch the games. Here's a link: http://www.cocotest.cu/Playoff/index.asp

¡Vaya gallos!

2008-04-01T20:05:00.005-05:00

Hey, guess where I am?
I am sooooooooo glad baseball season is here. But only 2 or 3 games into the season, I have seen enough of one thing. I am really tired of the cell phone people. You know these people, right? They are usually seated behind home plate, or beside the dugouts. They are ALWAYS on their cell phones waving over the batter's shoulder at whoever is on the other end of that phone conversation.

I tune into the broadcast to watch the game. I am not interested in seeing cell phone people. I think it is a tremendous waste of a great seat for WATCHING THE GAME!!!! That's the problem here. If you are looking out at me over Mark Teixeira's left shoulder, and you've got a cell phone up to your head, and you're waving or looking down holding your other ear shut, you are hardly a baseball fan who deserves dugout level seats on the Braves' side of the infield. At the risk of saying someting ugly, you are hardly a fan at all. I don't pay my satellite TV bill to watch you making sure your buddies see you.

This is one of the reasons I cannot argue with Red Sox or Yankees fans. Their fans go to the stadium to watch the game. Their fans show up at road games to root for the visiting team. Take a look around Turner Field, and you will see too many people who are there only to be seen not to watch. Don't get me started on the people who are only there to do the wave.

Unless you are at your first game ever and want to thank your Grandpa in Alaska who loves baseball for the sweet tickets he bought you, either hang up or give your seat to a kid who wants to grow up to be Brian McCann.

2008-03-25T20:26:00.006-05:00

What's on Your iPod?
OK, I'm going to sound kinda OLD here, but recently while perusing Reader's Digest . . .
Yes, America's favorite little magazine has found that ideal place of prominence in our home--the magazine rack of the master bathroom. And by "magazine rack" I do actually mean atop the toilet tank. I'd put the Sunday School book in there, but who's got that kind of time?

Back to the subject. Over the last few months, I have enjoyed reading the celebrity interviews. In many recent articles RD has included a sidebar interview related to pop culture. Often the question that gets asked is, "What's on your iPod?" This month, Tina Fey confessed to having Britney Spears' "Outrageous" and the soundtrak from Annie in "high rotation".

Well, I have owned an iPod shuffle for less than a day now. It as a lot of music from grade school through college on it such as Fleetwood Mac, The Eagles, Spin Doctors, No Doubt, and Cranberries. But I had to give into guilty pleasures and pick up some more contemporary sounds. So in there with Don Henley you'll find Wyclef Jean because I'm working on incorporating the phrase "dolla-dolla bill, y'all" into my lexicon. Might slip it into the offertory prayer some weekend. And thank you, Fergie, for the way you say "Check it out!" Chris Brown is helping me add an entry under "boo". It's no longer only an interjection, folks!

What's really cool about my late entry to iPod-dom is that Trisha got the the "product RED" version. Apple will give a portion of it's purchase to the Global Fund to fight AIDS in Africa. (http://www.joinred.com/) So, having a red iPod gives me something else to talk about than the importance of having Green Day's "Holiday" turned waaaaaaaayyyy up! "Say! . . . Hey! " Of course, when I'm wearing my red iPod while riding my Heifer Project (www.heifer.org) water buffalo into a that needy village, a Big and Rich song might be a little more appropriate.

2008-03-17T07:17:00.003-05:00

Branches in the Road
You might have heard that we had a tornado in Allendale on Saturday. That is not true. We had TORNADOES Saturday evening. The great news is that everyone is OK, but we have a lot of damage. One of my church members lost her home. What remains of it is scattered in the peach orchard across the highway. Her daughter lives next door, and her home is severely damaged.
http://www.wjbf.com/midatlantic/jbf/news_index.apx.-content-articles-JBF-2008-03-17-0001.html

A lot of trees and powerlines are down. A lot of roofs around here have at least one tree on them. Of course, people are still frightened and heartbroken. Cleanup has commenced on a variety of levels.

We came to Sunday morning services without electricity. We stuck with the Palm Sunday text from Matthew because there were a number of pharases there to resonate with. We understood quite well what it meant to be a "city in turmoil" (Mt 21:10). We all had shouted our "Hosannas in the highest", first in the original meaning of term "save us", and then in sighs of relief learing everyone was OK, and again in praises seeing FEMA representatives and Disaster Relief volunteers showing up quickly.

We came to Palm Sunday with branches in the road already, an appropriate carpet upon which Jesus can ride into this town. It looks like were heading into a very interesting Holy Week.

Of course, our tornadoes, weren't the only ones in SC one Saturday. Branchville is home to many childhood memories for me. That's where I got my haricut, celebrated Railroad Daze, and enjoyed many a cone of soft-serve ice cream. The Churn was one of the landmarks destroyed by a tornado. Here's an article about Branchville . . .
http://www.thetandd.com/articles/2008/03/17/news/13010723.txt

2008-03-12T09:07:00.001-05:00

Haven't got sense enough to . . .

"The one constant through all the years has been baseball. America has
rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard,
rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this
game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what
could be again."

That's beautiful, Mr. Jones, but may I counter your oft quoted soliloquy with another gem from baseball cinema . . .

"A good friend of mine used to say, 'This is a very simple game. You throw the
ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you
lose, sometimes it rains.' Think about that for a while."

People know I love baseball. One thing that keeps me sane in small-town church life is that there is a "field of dreams" of sorts right here in Allendale. The local junior college USC-Salkehatchie has a team, and when they play, I am there. No, the diamond is not carved out of a corn field, but it occupies space near pine woods that border the old airport.

The line from the Bull Durham quote that has been resonating with me is "sometimes it rains". We have had some nice downpours here in the last two weeks. It didn't rain on gamedays, but it rained so much on the days before that the games were cancelled or moved to the other school because the field flooded.

Let me be clear, I am not complaining about rain. We need it down here. I love baseball, but I also love peaches (Hear me, frost, you are not welcome here 'til October!).

Yesterday evening's game was scheduled for 5 PM. Walking out to the car, I noticed a few drops on the windshield. The game went on amid off and on light showers. I stayed for the whole thing and was treated to a 9th inning rally by the home team to win the game. I probably will have a cold, or pneumonia, or tuberculosis, but today I'm happy!

2008-03-06T09:14:00.003-05:00

The Bird Funeral

Day four of the Gold Finch invasion of my front yard took a sad turn this morning. As I was on my way out to walk to the church office, I noticed one of the birds had died by the front door. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know if he crashed into the glass of the front door or if he'd been attacked by a cat or hawk. I'd like to think that he gave his last efforts in life defending the feeder from that "dang squirrel".

Last night, I led the Wednesday night crowd in a study of Matthew 24-25. We went through that long list of signs of the end of the age. Several could be viewed a threats. Some could be seen as natural events. All of them, though, must be interpreted as calls for Jesus' disciples to remain faithful, sharing the Good News to every corner of the earth until the end does come.

So, here on Thursday morning, I was presented with lab work based on Wednesday night's lesson. "Consider the birds of the air," Jesus said earlier in Matthew, "They don't grow crops or store grain in barns, but our Father in heaven cares for them." That point in the Sermon on the Mount is that God will take care of us also. We are called to remain faithful, and when we do we really are like the birds, doing what God created us to do without one worry.

I grabbed a shovel and headed out to the daylily patch. In a few months, the "lilies of the field" will be clothed in splendor just like the plumage this bird sported in summertime.

"Praise the Lord from the earth . . . wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!" (from Psalm 148). Overhead, a mockingbird sang every song he knew.

2008-02-26T19:19:00.004-05:00

Call Home; Play Van Halen

(If you're preaching on 1 Samuel 16:7 this Sunday, here's a freebie--you're welcome!)

It seems to me to be something of a mixed message. Perhaps you have seen the ads on television. The ones I am thinking about are for the new Ford vehicles that come equipped with SYNC, a voice activated technology that allows the driver to control his or her MP3 player or cell phone without releasing he steering wheel. This ad is easy to do on television. The commercial seems to be a simple demonstration of this new gadget. It is a much more difficult trick to pull off in a magazine.

The ad in last week’s Sports Illustrated began with a banner headline, “A lot of cars make a statement. This one listens.” That was followed by a brief explanation that the 2008 Ford Focus comes with “voice-activated SYNC technology”. The remaining 10 inches of the page proves that times really have not changed that much, in spite of the technological advances of the early 21st century. The rest of the page was a photograph of a shiny, sleek, brand-new, car. One inch of copy advertised what was available inside the car while the majority of the space was dedicated to a picture of one sharp looking vehicle.

Remember the Ford Focus’ distant, distant relative the Pinto? There could have been a super computer in the dashboard and a super model in the passenger seat. Those amenities could never change the fact that it was still a Pinto. When it comes to selling a car, appearance matters. That probably is true when it comes to selling anything. I almost missed the Ford ad because on the previous page Maria Sharapova was trying to sell me Gatorade.

2008-02-25T15:11:00.001-05:00

Egg Before Chicken
I have been put on a “money diet”. Of course this is the time of year (New Year, Lent, etc.) when most people are on food diets as well. My apologies to the liturgical crowd, I do realize it’s called fasting in Lent. Gimme a break, I went to seminary, too.
As you can tell, I’m a bit cranky. See, where I spend money the most is on going out to eat. After church yesterday, I want to go out for lunch. I had preached well AND sung a duet which went well, too. I deserved a treat. I was hungry. Such formulas normally result in pastors eating fried chicken. Money diet said I had to stay home and have a sandwich (Mmmmm . . . egg salad). I could have begged. I could have pouted. Instead I saw $15 staying in the bank. It hurt, but I’m better for it.
I have been drinking more water lately. Today when I jammed my cup into the door of the refrigerator, and yes it does have a dispenser, no water came out. I switched to “ice” and I got ice. I switched back to “water” but no water. There was no way that I was going to even tempt my old nemesis “crushed ice” to complicate this matter.
Resolving to have water to drink, I put the tea kettle under the tap in order to boil water that would then have to cool in the refrigerator. I could have drunk water from the tap, but I am not far enough removed from the great, brown water episode of the summer of ’07. As I began to fill the kettle, I laughed as I yelled at myself, “You can BUY a jug of water at the store!”
OK, I am not kidding here. The moment I said that, I heard water drip at the door of the refrigerator. I stuck a cup there, and the water flowed out like latecomers to Sunday service—casual, free, clueless about their imposition, and without apology. And, to go against the grain of the Old Testament story (Exod 15 and/or17), I am not bitter about it. It actually tastes pretty good. Sorry, I can’t blog much more right now. You see, I’ve had a lot of water to drink and . . .

2008-02-25T14:33:00.001-05:00

Sorry You've Missed Me
It is time to apologize AGAIN for not updating the blog. It might prove, though, that ministers can be just as busy as normal people.

2007-11-14T10:50:00.000-05:00

Feed People and Learn Stuff
I am grateful to my friend Cindy Bell for sending me a link to freerice.com. Thanks!
We are in a feasting time of year. Many of us will be under the heavy influence of participating in more than one Thanksgiving celebration. Advent brings a wonderful series of worship services to our churches, but they are accompanied by a number receptions and holiday parties. From the last week of November to New Year’s Day the dominant tradition in our culture is that we eat.
Of course, when we gather around our tables we pause to give thanks. We pray our thanksgivings grateful for all of God’s blessings. Often when I have listened to these prayers, I have heard several people, much wiser than I, add to the missives, “Remind us of the needs of others.”
In this prolonged season of feasting, there are also a number of opportunities for us to feed people who do not have much food. I am to now know about a creative way to help feed the hungry.
Go to http://www.freerice.com/ (that’s “free rice”). There, you will find a vocabulary quiz. For every definition you get right Free Rice will donate 10 grains of rice to the United Nations World Food Program. It seems to be sort of a win-win situation. You learn big words and help feed hungry people at the same time. Since starting the web site in October, Free Rice has donated over 1.7 billion grains of rice. It shouldn’t take any erudite philanthropist a hemidemisemiquaver to ascertain that this is a sensible munificence.
There are a number of opportunities to help the poor in our community and in our world. I hope that you will find yourself involved in more than one in this season not only of feasting but of giving.

2007-10-31T11:44:00.000-05:00

A Prayer at the Save-A-Lot
(of course, look for a very different kind of prayer on the day before Thanksgiving)

O God of all our days, our shelter and hope through all generations: In every age, your truth has been proclaimed by many voices that it is you who makes our hearts wise, our minds sound, and our purposes righteous to the honor of Jesus Christ our Lord.

We celebrate that this day has arrived. We pray a word of thanks on behalf of many people who have worked hard to make the opening of this store possible. Through the processes of visioning, planning, renovating, rebuilding, purchasing, and stocking; many minds, voices, and bodies have labored to see this day happen. We are grateful for what they have been able to do. We pray a word of thanks on behalf of men and women who now have work because this new store is here.

Most of all, we pray a word of thanks that there is something new in our community. Though it could easily be considered small and insignificant, we have often confessed that little things add up, and we have agreed with your word that all things work together for good. May this new thing help us to have hope for the continued renewal of this community. Open and enlighten the eyes of our hearts that we would be able to see the coming of your kingdom, even on days like today, and where we can each work as your servants within it.

We pray your blessings upon all the businesses of our town and our county, for these are the places where your people also gather. Though we can be found gathered in church buildings, we also see one another in the post office, in banks, and in the grocery stores, and we will lean heavily upon your promise that where two or three are gathered in your name there you will be also. We are grateful that you bless us with your presence as we worship, but we also pray you will bless us to go to work in your name and that we will find you waiting for us there.

Again, O Lord, we give you thanks for this good day, but we know it is not the work of our hands or the achievement of any human effort. This day is good because you have made it so. Therefore we pray these words of thanksgiving through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Invocation at the Grand Opening

of Sav-A-Lot grocery store

in Allendale, SC. October 31, 2007.

2007-10-29T08:41:00.000-05:00

The Town Pastor
I have been pastor of First Baptist Church of Allendale, SC for almost 8 months now. I now have to watch my step because folks are beginning to recognize me at Hardee's, the post office, and grocery store. This is small town life and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I am one of a few full-time pastors who reside in town. This makes me the go-to-guy for a number of occasions. One distinct honor came this summer when members of our National Guard unit returned after being deployed in Iraq for a year. I was asked to deliver the invocation in a welcome home ceremony. It was a special experience to look out at the faces of families who had not seen these men and women for a year. Everyone was happy they were home. It certainly was a holy moment. Everyone knew that. I might have felt like Peter did at the transfiguration. "It's good for us to be here!" I don't know why Jesus did not turn to Peter and say, "Well, duh!" Of course, it being Jesus, I reckon he didn't have to.

This Wednesday, I am honored to pray again at another moment in the life of the town of Allendale. A new grocery store is opening. This might not sound like a big deal, but in a town that has seen its fair share of difficult days, here is at least a glimmer of hope. Here are a few more jobs in place that has the state's third lowest unemployment rate. Here is some commerce being generated where folks are used to not being an option for shopping. Perhaps, in some subtle way, it wakes us up to more that we all could be doing as a community. Maybe, then, it won't be a glimmer of hope, but we could somehow become exposed to the bright, shining glory of God. And I'll get busy building boothes for Moses and Elijah . . .

Look for me to post the grocery store grand opening invocation Wednesday.

2007-10-15T08:30:00.000-05:00

One Happy Computer Owner
You might want to ask for clarification when your pastor says, "My latest experiences using the internet have made me really happy."
What exactly do you mean by that, Rev?
OK, it is not what you think. Lately I have been determined to catch up with some folks I have not seen for a long time. The internet has been a big help.
I have used Facebook over the last couple years to keep up with friends. Now that Facebook has opened up beyond college students, I have been able to find a lot of folks who went to college with me.
I haven't seen my taekwondo instructors in 11 years. Of course the TKD association has a web site, and Dave and Caryn are still teaching. They are level 5 TKD masters now!
All in all, it has been pretty easy to find people, though I would never confess to being a brilliant, private investigator type. I'm really glad to be able to stay in touch with a lot of friends and family members.

2007-10-08T18:25:00.000-05:00

The Lord's Supper
Yesterday, I think I had one of "those moments". I think you might know what I mean, moments that come around to help you get a glimpse of what the ministry is all about. I mentioned to Trisha that every church member should get to sit where I sit sometimes and take a good look at this part of the body of Christ. Yesterday, I got to see each of these folks passing the bread and the cup to one another. The plates passed between family members, from the old to the young and back, from the poor to the the well-off--each person a loved member of the family of God. It overwhelmed me for a moment, and I breathed a hopeful prayer that each person I saw got what they needed. I did.

I was reminded of that ending scene in "Places In The Heart". Everyone was in church passing the Lord's Supper to each other. This scene gets a bit unusual as the plate is passed down a row that includes a man who was killed and a man who killed him. The message: even if there is not room in your heart for another, there is room at the Lord's table for all. Paul told Timothy, "If we are faithless, he remains faithful--for he cannot deny himself." (2 Tim 2:13) The little boy in the movie said, "The peace of Christ." I say Amen.

2007-10-02T19:46:00.000-05:00

Pastor Perks
I have been in the business a while (16 years this summer). I have been taken out to lunch. I have had church members invite me to their homes for dinner. I have received my fair share of fresh vegetables and preserves. But today . . . (cue the Lou Gehrig speech)
Today... Today... Today...
I consider myself... myself... myself...
The luckiest preacher on the face of the earth... earth... earth...
Thanks to some good church folks, I've got 6 pounds of shrimp in the freezer!!!
What a treat! Thanks, church people!!!
And you knew this was coming . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LF7XPcUnDj4

2007-09-29T20:25:00.000-05:00

Sunday, September 30
Year C, Proper 21, Season after Pentecost
Meditaions, Prayers and Scripture Readings

Welcome
There are a couple of ways that we consider stewardship. The first way is to think about the right use of money, and sometimes we consider that by taking a look at the wrong ways we use money. God is concerned with how we make our money. Have we come about it honestly or have we harmed people in the process? A second way to consider stewardship is to understand what we owe God. Our first loyalty is as participants in the kingdom of God, and it is a loyalty that nothing on earth can claim and no Christian should give except to God. We are ultimately accountable and responsible to God. Our loyalty is demonstrated in faithfulness. It can be seen in worship. It can be seen in missions. And it certainly can be seen, heard, and known as we announce the loving presence of our Lord in this world. “The peace of Christ be with you.”

1 Timothy 6:6-16

Invocation
Gracious God, giver of life, without you we have nothing. We cannot rest in our earthly accomplishments, for they are not eternal. They wither like grass in the unapproachable light of your presence. We are gathered as your church, not because of what we have been able to do. No, we are here because of what our Lord has accomplished on our behalf. By his great love for us we have been saved. We ask your blessings upon us that we might shun the ways of the world in order to pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. As we worship you today, we pray that you would find us taking hold of the eternal life to which we have been called, keeping the commandments of our Lord in purity of faith. May all we do in this hour glorify your presence, in words spoken, prayed, and sung; in our welcoming of each other in this service; and in our honoring your sovereignty in our lives. May this time be a good confession in the presence of many witnesses, even now as we confess your name in prayer, saying as our Savior taught, “Our Father . . .

Psalm 146

Prayers of the People
Our Lord and our God, we are glad that we know you and we sing your praises. Hear our hallelujahs and receive the prayers of your people.
You are the God in whom we can place our trust. We have no need to rely on the powers and systems of this world. They are temporary, fading and dissolving with time. You are eternal, keeping faith forever, and our hope is in you, the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them.
You execute justice for the oppressed. We offer our prayers for the people of this world who find them selves subjected to oppression by others. We pray for believers who suffer persecution. We pray for people who suffer from hunger or poverty because a tyrant disrupts the distribution of food or a government violates human rights.
We pray for the healing of the sick and the relief of all who are in distress. Open the eyes of the blind. Lift up all who are bowed down. Sustain them with your presence. Drive away illness from their bodies and set their spirits aright that they may know the victory of life and peace and be enabled to serve you now and evermore.
We pray for your continuing watchcare over strangers. May your peace accompany them. May your protection be a noticeable characteristic of their travels.
We pray for the care of the widow and the orphan. Lift them up to know the ways that you have provided for them in love and grace.
As we pray for others, we also pray listening for your word to us. Show us the ways that we can help meet the need of these we have lifted up to you. Strengthen us to be your servants and guard us from wickedness that we would acknowledge your reign with songs of praise to all generations.
We sing your praises all our life long, for we have much for which we can be thankful. We especially say “praise the Lord” in thanksgiving for the eternal life granted to us by Jesus Christ our Lord. It is in his name we are gathered as his church, commissioned to make disciples, and in his name we make this our prayer. Amen.

Luke 16:19-31

Benediction
Go in peace to love and serve the Lord. Go in the name of the One who came back from the dead for our sake. Go with your eyes wide open to see your neighbor in need. Go with your hands open to lift up the broken and give all you can to help. Go with your heart open that the love of Christ would be known. And your good works will be seen to the glory of our God in heaven. Amen.

2007-09-25T17:34:00.000-05:00

Mascot Madness
Speaking as a former "man in the suit", I've got nothing but love for K. C. Wolf today.
Did you see it?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOofejdChSg

2007-09-20T19:11:00.000-05:00

Buccaneer Speak

If you read Ken Burger's column today on CSU's trip to Hawai'i you might have run across Coach Mills' quote . . .

"Every man desires by innate nature a battle to fight and an adventure that involves risk taking," Mills said. "Through the game of sport, particularly football, those two opportunities are provided. This kind of game answers the question, on a play by play basis, do I have what it takes?"

Sounds cool. It also sound like something the "voice of NFL Films" John Facenda might say in a highlight reel of bruised and bloody offensive linemen breathing a heavy mist on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field. It might be like that for the Bucs this weekend, except for that frozen tundra part.

Speaking of Buccaneers, yesterday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Well, me hearties, did ye parlee with ARRRR's and AYE's? You know me--I be a buccaneer through an' through, you scurvy sea dogs. AVAST and heave to, laddies!!

Not too long ago, my sister forbade me to teach her kids my pirate song. It was kind of a nonsense song that three-year-olds would be good at singing. But, I guess the content could be considered rated ARRRRRR. Here 'tis. You be the judge.
I'm a pirate.
I'm a pirate.
I'm a pirate, be a-feared.
Here's my pirate eye patch,
And here's my pirate sword,
And these are my
BUCCANEERS!

Ahoy there, cue the fight song! ARRRRR you a buccaneer?

2006-10-15T15:11:00.000-05:00

A Not So O+ Experience

So, for the past few years (and I don't really know how many) I've had this "dot" on my upper lip. I never noticed when it arrived, and I never paid much attention to it--except, of course, that it provided me some mystic connection to Cindy Crawford.

Cindy, if you're reading this, please join me for a Diet Pepsi.

Early this week. The "dot" began to hurt a little. Nothing serious, but it was letting me know it was there. I guess "sting" might be a better term than hurt. On Wednesday morning, my last swipe of the Good News razor was over the "dot". And then . . .

I began to bleed. This was nothing like simple shaving cut bleeding. No sir, this was a letting for the ages.

I was in a hotel near Knoxville. First, I reached for the Kleenexes. Tissue placed, pressure applied, peeked at it a minute later, repeated steps 1 and 2. This little waltz o' the reddening tissues went on for many minutes. Then, I ran out of Kleenex and graduated to wash cloths . . . hand towels . . . bath towels . . . bed linens . . .

It looked like a horror movie went off in there!

I finally got the bleeding to stop, but I was pretty dizzy. My next stop was K-mart for a large pack of Band-aids.

Next morning, following another fateful last swipe, I slapped a Band-aid over the gusher. One thousand one . . . one thousand two . . . one thousand--the bandage was soaked through!!

No wonder the Red Cross keeps calling me about donating, I've got enough for everyone (and it's O+)!

One friend suggested I pack Krazy Glue. "It's exactly what surgeons use," he explained. Yeah, if your surgeon happens to be the Unibomber. Maybe I also oughta learn how to rip out the matress springs and suture up a wound Rambo style. For now though it's a regimen of Band-aids and Neosporin. Wonder how much longer before I clot a little better? I hope this improves soon because the triple antibiotic ointment is really spicy and makes me hallucinate.

2006-09-22T10:45:00.000-05:00

17 years since . . .

Yesterday/today is the 17th anniversary of Hurricane Hugo's overnight landfall near McClellanville, SC. At the time, it was the worst storm to ever strike the United States. Of course, we've had Andrew and Katrina since then.

Hugo, though, remains my lone hurricane experience.

For all the college buddies who evacuated Charleston for the "safe havens" of Sumter, Columbia, Rock Hill, or even Charlotte, you must remember this storm, because you might have had equal or worse experiences thatnsome folks who stayed in the Low Country.

2 memories mark that experience for me--well three.

1. I got really mad at my mom because she refused to let me sleep upstairs during the storm. So instead I slept downstairs next to a huge window with no maternal challenge to this choice. Hmm . . . now I'm beginning to wonder. Seems I may have more to blog about than I thought.

2. During the storm, I woke up and noticed some light outside. It was my dad wandering around with a flashlight. I guess he wasn't going to fall for the old "sleep by the window" trick.

3. After the storm, I saw Channel 5's iconic anchor Bill Sharpe at a gas station in St. George. His hair was a mess and he needed a shave real bad. He was a walking understatement of what everyone had been through. We exchanged understanding glances--tips of the cap, if you will, to having more in common than we'd ever dreamed of.

There are the many images we all share in our memories, too, I bet. The Ben Sawyer Bridge twisted and left sideways at a 45 degree angle comes to mind. Don't forget the hole in the steeple of Lightsey Chapel, the beached shrimp boats, and the uprooted 500 year old oak trees. Each picture probably bears a ton of metaphor.

Folks from Katrina's path are still recovering. We share a common, dark heritage with them as well, and so we'll continue to offer our sisters and brothers our prayers and help, because we've been there, too.

This Monday night, the Saints will return to the SuperDome. Win or lose, I hope it will be a great sign of hope to many of our hurri-kin who experienced so much loss. Grab your black and gold umbrella and join the parade! May there be more "marchin' in" to come!

2006-09-19T11:47:00.000-05:00

Good Sports Weekend (sort of)

I enjoyed my weekend. Friday night, we went out to Turner Field for the Braves game. It was a lot of fun except that the Braves lost. I did get to see Dontrelle Willis pitch. Sorry, Atlanta loyalists, but I'm a big fan of the D-train.

In further news from Turner Field, the girls with the T-shirt gun finally fired in my direction. I've been trying to get their attention for months. I'm glad you noticed me. I wish you would have noticed I needed an XL. Yes, I'm a choosy beggar.

OK, one more story from the Braves game. We were watching batting practice and watching the kids who gather at the outfield wall and beg for baseballs. Every now and then a player turned around and tossed a ball to a kid. On one of these occasions, a player was clearly throwing a ball to a boy in the stands when an "adult" reached in front of the kid and caught, nay, took the ball away from its rightful recipient. This guy then walked away and gave the ball to his own son. Two observations:
A. You stink, mister, stealing a ball from a kid.
B. Which kid was really the unfortunate one, the boy who had his fun stolen or the child who has a dad doing everything for him? Perhaps only their future spouses will tell for sure.

Saturday, it was off to Midtown Atlanta for college football. On this bright and sunny day, Georgia Tech beat Troy 35-20. The only drawback was the impressive sunshine from which there was very little shade. A new hat turned out not to be my only souvenir. As a friend at church the next day noted chuckling, "I can see your
sunglasses mark."

Yes, I am still temporarily marked with the sign of a good couple days off!