I loved haircut day when I was a child. Haircut day was always a Saturday and was forever a father-son event. The trimming of hair, however, was but one element in the hour-long experience. Let me explain.
The barbershop was always full when my father and I would arrive. Most haircut days, my father would give me a quarter while we listened to the men’s banter and while we watched as hair was swept up between customers. You see, there was an old Coca-Cola machine in the corner full of glass bottles of the sweet, bubbly elixir. The machine was an engineering marvel. Below the coin slot was a narrow, vertical glass window. Inside were serval chilled pop-tops in descending order, held captive by a complex system of bars and levers. You could open the glass door to caress the tops of the refrigerated bottles, but you could not pull one out without depositing .25 in the slot. Of course, as a child I would yank on each bottle hoping that the machine was faulty and that it would yield to my tug, granting me a free drink. My father’s quarter, though, would provide me with the delicious sensation of pulling out a liberated bottle of Coke. And oh, the taste of those frosty, glass-bottled Cokes. Shasta. For me, haircuts and Coca-Cola just went together.
But that was not all.
Lost in a rack of newspapers and magazines was an oversized illustrated Bible for children. I loved that Bible and its pictures of memorable stories from scripture. The details in each picture gave rich insight into the stories I heard at home and at church. Adam and Eve were beautiful, shapely and discreetly covered by foliage. David’s diminutive stature was showcased by the gargantuan bully named Goliath. And the still waters and green pastures of the 23rd Psalm gave my imagination fuel to grasp David’s prayer.
But the story that I always studied more closely than others was The Story of the Flood. Time seemed to slow down when I got to the tale of Noah and his ark, and I secretly hoped that I wouldn’t be called for my cut until the illustrations had exhausted my scrutiny.
The ark in the pictures was magnificent. The animals were regal. Noah was wild-eyed, but stoic. The next page revealed the storm clouds and the nearby raging river. Then, in an inset picture was the ark surrounded by flood waters.
I could imagine the sensation of the boat being lifted off the ground. I could hear the wicked banging on the boat’s timbers. The animals would be nervous, of course, but well-cared-for. Noah and his family would feel vindicated and rewarded as they huddled together in warmth and safety as the world disappeared beneath the waves.
Then, on the following page there was a picture of Noah with a raven leaning out a window of the ark. Later, a dove was seen returning with a leaf from a tree. Finally, there was a solitary picture of Noah, looking wistfully off into the distance with no dove to be seen.
The final picture always seemed rushed. In the illustration I remember, the ark is set upon a rocky mountain top. The door is open and animals are spilling out onto the ramp. An altar has been constructed to the right of the picture and a rainbow arches across the scene.
This well-known story is a favorite because it seems to have everything you want in a good story. There are animals, wicked naysayers, and righteous protagonists. The story has an extraordinary natural disaster and an apocalyptic aftermath that provides suspense. There’s resolution, too, right? A new beginning, a rainbow, and a thankful people.
Years later, I would see how the appeal of this story had spread. Noah and the Ark would become the theme for nurseries in homes, churches and at day care centers. Snappy songs were sung to tell of the animals’ salvation as they marched into the Ark, “two by two.” An entire line of toys would become available—a zoo with a boat, cool! The rainbow would become a symbol of God’s enduring love.
Yes, the story of Noah and the Ark from Genesis 6-8 is one of the best-known stories from the Bible. But like many of the stories we love to tell from the Bible, we tell only a portion of the story or turn down the volume on the unsavory, difficult elements. A keen eye and a close read of the text, however, will reveal a dark and tragic story. The story that helps to build the foundation for God’s relationship with His creation is about salvation, yes. But it’s also about holocaust. While it’s tempting to fawn over the animals and their lifeboat, we must also acknowledge the mass of floating dead that fill the waters around the ark. Where are they in our retellings? The story of the ark is not cute. It’s sorrowful and full of sadness, replete with remorse.
God regretted creating us. “And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. (Genesis 6:6)” So, God decides to start over, never mind that starting over meant “blotting out” mankind.
This is a hard, hard story complete with a foretaste of sobering themes that we later find in the Bible. Issues of God’s justice, divine violence, and selective love and preservation litter the Biblical landscape, here. But many of us don’t see—or don’t wish to see---the underside of the ark. And at some level, that’s understandable. My children played with a toy ark. I did not tell them that when they played with the animals and the boat that they were playing holocaust.
It is imperative that we read scripture as adults and that we revisit the stories that we thought we knew well. The Bible, and its collection of stories about God’s relationship with us, is full of truth. And that truth may be hard to hear, but it teaches us about the depth, complexity and richness of God.
Although it’s hard to illustrate and even harder to make into a play-thing, this well-known story introduces us to a God who gets angry, a God who is sad, a God who regrets, a God who loves, a God who apologizes, and a God who is full of promises that He keeps.
This is why we read the Bible. This is why we tell the stories of the Bible to our children.
But this is also why we should continue to read and reflect upon them well into adulthood. They may not go down as easily as a frosty coke from a bottle, but they will—with prayer and quiet reflection—be just as satisfying and fulfilling.
Christmas in July?
Our sermon series this month is taking a step away from our broader theme to consider passages of scripture that get little-to-no air time in our faith tradition. “Danger, Do Not Enter: Sermons That Shouldn’t Be Preached,” captures this pursuit fairly well. It also gives a well-heeded warning to both the proclaimer and the listener (Let’s just hope no one gets seriously injured this month, okay?).
As we will discover, the Bible stories we’ll be looking at in July didn’t make the cut in our faithful imagination because they were boring. Hardly. The stories that we will study on Sunday mornings in July are tales that are difficult to hear, hard to swallow, and taboo in one way or the other. But they all have something to teach us about ourselves and about God.
If, therefore, I spend our Sunday mornings during the month of July looking at scripture that may not crack the ‘Biblical Top 40,’ perhaps it would be a good exercise in the July editions of our Chimes Newsletter to examine a few of the passages that seem to garner so much of the attention in our faith experience. Here’s my contention: I’m not so sure that the most familiar stories from the Bible capture the length and breadth of God’s truth. Perhaps our affection for these well-known stories can teach us something about our own predilections and peccadillos. Maybe, if we’re daring, we can recognize the liabilities of locating the entirety of our religious experience in one particular story or another.
From my vantage point, the most popular and well-known Bible story is contained in the Infancy Narratives from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. I’m talking about the Christmas Story, y’all. In our setting, even the most novice of religious observers can sketch out the framework for how Jesus was born to a virgin in Bethlehem. Even in our increasingly secularized culture, the trappings of Jesus’ birth still root our economy’s most lucrative holiday. Stars, stables, ‘all-things-babies,’ miracles, hope, love, cute and cuddly farm animals, peace, and ‘Ancient-Near-East-at-Twilight’ scenes all point to the story that Christians claim as the foundation of our faith.
So, what have we gotten wrong about this incredible story?
Answer: Which part? Because, when it comes to the story of Jesus’ birth, we get much of it wrong. Let’s start with the details.
In an effort to accommodate our own ideas for how the birth of Jesus should have occurred, or to tidy a story that seems rough around the edges, much of the story has been stretched. Stories always get pulled in a number of directions when they are retold, but when adherents of a faith cannot sort fact from fiction in a story they claim to be so important, we’ve got a problem.
Consider this:
-Much to the chagrin of would-be children’s book authors, the Bible has no reference to a kindly innkeeper in the story of Jesus’s birth.
-Yet again, unfortunately, there is no reference to barnyard animals surrounding the Holy Family in the stable.
-Mary did not ride a donkey to Bethlehem.
-It didn’t snow that first Christmas, as it was (inconveniently) spring.
-The angels were, according to the Bible, men who did not have wings.
-And, we don’t know how many Wise Men visited Jesus. Furthermore, they most-certainly didn’t find him as a baby, let alone in a stable.
Does any of this matter? Probably not. In all fairness, it’s a story told over two distinct accounts in scripture. Even the best of us mix it up at Christmas. But our inability to parse fact from fiction does not say much for our ability to be trusted on Biblical matters.
The other element that we get wrong about the Christmas story is its respective place in Church history. For much of Christian history, the birth of Jesus as an event was not heralded or celebrated. In fact, the first observance in the early church was the season of Lent…not Easter, and not Christmas. Lent—the faithful’s preparation for Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross—was the first and most celebrated Christian holiday. Let that sink in for a moment. Until the Victorian Era in the late 19th century, church leaders cautioned their parishioners from making much of a fuss at Christmas, lest the holiday become a raucous day of drunkenness and debauchery. Sobriety and an attitude of holy contemplation would win the day for centuries. The most normative Christmas observance through the ages was one where the faithful quietly and humbly acknowledged the arrival of Jesus in our world.
Followers of Jesus and secular observers can all find something lovely to latch on to in the Christmas story. But from the perspective of a circumspect Christian, we’ve got to acknowledge that the Christmas story is but one element in the broader epic between God and God’s people.
Admit it, a cute and cuddly Messiah is preferable to a wild-eyed prophet who calls us on our sin. Of course, we’re going to be drawn to the babe in a manger. We’ll learn soon enough that the Son of God will preach a message that will make him enemies and get him killed. If pressed, I daresay that we’d prefer the image of ‘mother and child’ over a Christ who is beaten and bruised. It’s not hard to see why we love the story of Christ’s birth, but we’ve got to be careful that we don’t adore it to the detriment of Christ’s message and ministry in the heart of his adulthood. My point? We cannot hide behind the manger and an infant Messiah. We’ve got to locate the gravity of our attention to Jesus’s message after his time in diapers.
Our predilection toward ‘Away in a Manger’ over Jesus cursing the fig tree is a dangerous truth to lift up at any time of the year. But, I’m hopeful that our relative distance from the most euphoric and nostalgic of holidays will give us a bit of perspective.
Let there be no doubt, Christmas is the loveliest of Bible stories. But it is one story in a collection of stories that reveals the truth of our sinfulness and our need for a prophetic, truth-speaking Messiah who will lead and save us.
Stories are funny things. We tend to shape them to fit our needs and desires. The Bible is a collection of God’s stories that contains sweeping sagas that run the gamut from hope and defeat to joy and sorrow. But above all, the Bible tells us the truth. As followers of the ‘Way, the Truth and the Life,’ let’s make sure we hear all of it.
Generosity’s Arch-Enemy: Indifference
“The most important (commandment),” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12:29-31
Loving your neighbor means being generous to one another. Just as God has showered us with blessings, Jesus commands us to return the favor with those who live in our community.
Maggie Ballard, a resident of Wichita, Kansas, took Jesus’s commandment seriously and her efforts at loving her neighbors bore fruit. Quite literally, I might add. In much the same way that neighborhoods all over the country have created cabinet-like boxes with books inside for people to borrow and read, Maggie took the spirit of this generous effort to a new level. She, like many others around the country, has created a ‘box of blessing’ that serves as a small food pantry for the people in her neighborhood.
Maggie’s box is filled by her family and the broader community with food items, personal care items and even diapers. What makes their pantry unique, however, is the sense of anonymity that accompanies the gesture. People who are in need do not have to fear the shame that often accompanies food insecurity. Most visitors, Maggie reports, come during the evening.
"On Christmas Eve,” for example, “she watched as a family of three opened (their) box to find a bag of bagels and started eating them right there."
Maggie and her neighbors saw a need. And then, they devised a way that they could be charitable, fulfilling God’s commandment from Micah 6:8 to “love kindness.”
Of course, if we do not see the needs of our neighbors then how can we address them? When Jesus is asked to define who a neighbor is, Jesus tells the story of the generous Samaritan and the man who was in need. As the Bible tells us, the Samaritan saw the need, decided to help, shared his resources and even dedicated his personal finances to making sure that the wounded traveler was returned to health and wholeness.
This, brother and sisters, is what it looks like to ‘love kindness.’ This is what it looks like to be generous. This is what is looks like to love one’s neighbor.
But, not if we don’t see them.
Oh, we see them all right…that is, if we take the time to actually consider their plight. With so much need, and so much pain and suffering, the task of helping our neighbors seems hopeless. So, we turn our eyes--sometimes with judgment and with the internal suggestion that they are reaping what they’ve sown—away from our hurting neighbors.
This spirit of indifference that occasionally assaults us is not of God. And it’s something that we need to reckon with.
In 1999, acclaimed Holocaust survivor Ellie Wiesel gave a speech on indifference to the powerbrokers in Washington, D.C. Indifference, he suggests, means literally ‘no difference.’ He further defined indifference as “[a] strange and unnatural state in which the lines blur between light and darkness, dusk and dawn, crime and punishment, cruelty and compassion, good and evil.”
Wiesel suggested that indifference can be seductive. “It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person's pain and despair. Yet, for the person who is indifferent, his or her neighbor are of no consequence. And, therefore, their lives are meaningless. Their hidden or even visible anguish is of no interest.”
Indifference, he argued, is more dangerous than anger because anger can birth a creative and necessary response. Indifference, however, is never creative.
“Indifference elicits no response. Indifference is not a response. Indifference is not a beginning; it is an end. And, therefore, indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor—never his victim, whose pain is magnified when he or she feels forgotten. The political prisoner in his cell, the hungry children, the homeless refugees—not to respond to their plight, not to relieve their solitude by offering them a spark of hope is to exile them from human memory. And in denying their humanity, we betray our own.”
Loving our neighbor as Christ commands us to demands that we be creative; that we literally create a response to the needs around us.
And if you have trouble seeing the need, keep your eyes peeled for Christ. For where we see pain and suffering, we’ll find the Son of God. He’s already there with them. And he’s waiting there for you and for me.
“Teach Me About Jesus”
The first time I ever sensed that God was calling me to vocational ministry occurred while I was leading Vacation Bible School.
I was 15 years old and was in the youth group at my home church in Asheville. Every other summer, our church’s youth would travel to Hazard, Kentucky where we would serve in a poor, mountain community. We would rise early each morning, loading up in half a dozen vans to pick up children so that they could attend our Vacation Bible School in the parking lot of a local school. If you survived being in the backseat of a cramped van (which took the mountain curves a bit too quickly) at first light, you were expected to be a group leader for the camp later that morning.
Those were long, but glorious days. For in addition to the morning camp that was situated on a scalding hot black top, we would also work on construction projects each afternoon and early evening.
It was in this setting that I heard God speak to me.
My job that week was to teach the children the daily Bible story. I had never served in this capacity before and I was genuinely surprised to learn that I enjoyed telling the Bible story in a way that the children could hear and understand. As an awkward teenager, I was thrilled to learn that I felt confident and strong when I taught. I was drawn to the Bible story like I’d never experienced before and I dove into the scriptures, making sure I was familiar with the content of the text. To say it plainly, I felt like I found my voice that week.
I can’t remember her name, but I can still see the way she looked at me. She must not have been older than about 7 or 8. She had arrived early and was sitting in our group long before we were slated to begin. She smiled at me with an alarming sense of earnestness and said, “Teach me about Jesus.” And in that moment, I had an epiphany that made my heart sigh. True, the words were simple and may have been casually spoken. But for me, I heard God’s voice calling me to consider an invitation that would bring me both peace and joy. I felt God calling me to teach others about Jesus.
The work of the Spirit is transformation. And for me, when I found God’s mission I found myself changed.
Why do we encourage our church and community to be a part of Vacation Bible School each year? Why do we target college students and young people to lead our 1st Explorers ministry? Why do we provide opportunities for you to serve with other helping agencies and to learn more about yourself with tools like the Enneagram?
We want you to find the place where God wants you to be. That is, loving our neighbors through service and in the proclamation of the Good News of Jesus Christ. You see, we find our true selves when we are obedient to God’s will to, “Do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God.”
God encounters us so that we can do His will. Christ draws near to us to show us the depth of God’s love. The Holy Spirit changes us so that we can do Kingdom Work.
As we serve our community’s children this week at Vacation Bible School, I am reminded of the power of service and ministry to others. The ones we are serving, it would seem, are not the only ones who are changed.
Now, A Word About Perseverance
No ropes. No clips. No safety equipment. It’s just you, your hands and your feet.
It’s called free soloing and it’s a form of rocking climbing that has been in the news these last few days. This past Saturday, Alex Honnold did something that no one has ever done before. He climbed the 3,000 foot granite face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park without any climbing gear—save for a bag of chalk to assist his grip.
Yep, that’s right. With little more than what you are wearing right now, imagine climbing up a rock face wall over half a mile straight up. They call it a ‘free solo climb.’ It would be more like ‘free falling’ for me.
Climbers in the know are calling Honnold’s feat the greatest solo climb of all time. In case you’re wondering, Honnold did the climb alone, and in less than 4 hours.
The first thing that comes to mind, besides vertigo, is the sheer immensity of such a pursuit. When I consider what Honnold did, I find it difficult to imagine that it would be possible. A mistake would mean death (actually, it would mean a nightmarish fall followed by death). Obviously, no one would be able to help you if you needed assistance. The strength, endurance and mental fortitude needed sounds gargantuan.
But here’s the thing. This extraordinary feat didn’t just happen. Honnold didn’t wake up one day and decide between bites of a Krispy Kreme Donut to take it on. The free climb wasn’t a dare. Honnold wasn’t inebriated. No, Hannold was able to accomplish the impossible because he prepared relentlessly for it.
As far back as 2009, Honnold decided to take on El Capitan. He studied the mountain. He enlisted the help of other climbing experts. He used ropes and clips to inspect the mountain more closely, identifying possible routes. He trained on similar mountains all over the world. He gave it a shot nearly a year ago, deciding after beginning his assault that the conditions were not right. Just last week he mapped out the route with chalk, hoping that when he arrived in the dark on Saturday morning that the chalk would still be visible.
National Geographic confirms our hunch about his detailed preparation. “Honnold is obsessive about his training, which includes hour-long sessions every other day hanging by his fingertips and doing one- and two-armed pullups on a specially-made apparatus that he bolted into the doorway of his van. He also spends hours perfecting, rehearsing, and memorizing exact sequences of hand and foot placements for every key pitch. He is an inveterate note-taker, logging his workouts and evaluating his performance on every climb in a detailed journal.”
Alex Honnold didn’t just climb El Capitan. He made it his life’s work.
I am humbled by this climber’s approach to this task and am reminded of Paul’s words to the church at Colossus: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”
Extraordinary things happen when we work for them. The things that we consider impossible can be achieved when we "work at them with all our hearts, as working for the Lord." Great things require great preparation, great wisdom and great effort. These monumental accomplishments do not happen with the snap of a finger, but with a focus and grit that only perseverance can achieve.
When I think of the needs of our community and the ways in which our church can address them, I am often overwhelmed by the immensity of what would be necessary to pull it off. And yet, when I am reminded by the fact that, “It is the Lord Christ we are serving,” I remember that God is in the business of making the impossible possible. What is required on our part is the willingness to work toward a God-given goal that can bring glory and honor to Him. The ‘amazing’ and the ‘extraordinary’ don’t just happen. They require vision, planning, hard work and determination.
Unlike Honnold’s ascent, we are not called to accomplish great things by ourselves. But with one another, with God as our vision-crafter and pace-setter, we can accomplish more than we could ever ask or imagine.
Summer Starts Now
I remember it as the time when I no longer wore shoes. From the end of school in early June until the last week of August, I went barefoot or wore sandals. At first, my feet were tender and I avoided the sidewalks, pavement and concrete. But in time, the bottoms of my feet became tough and I could walk on a pine cone and not even wince.
I remember summer as the time the ice cream truck began to make its circuit. Summer meant that my father would invite the neighbors over for his annual attempt at making homemade ice cream (which strangely resembled a milkshake).
Summer was the time for the attic fan, chirping crickets, snapping beans and watching the Braves. Summer inaugurated a new reality for me and my family—bedtimes were revoked, naps commenced after being in the neighborhood pool each day, and books were devoured in makeshift forts and in caddywhompassed tree houses.
Brothers and sisters, friends and neighbors, it is with a great deal of satisfaction that I proclaim that summer begins now.
Summer means changes for the life of our church family. The next couple of months provide us with a unique opportunity to do things a bit differently than we do the rest of the year. Summer alters our rhythms and changes our perspective. With robust spring rains, our mountains are ripe for new discoveries and new ways of seeing the world.
Above all, summer provides us the chance to practice Sabbath. The ancient Jewish tradition and commandment that roots our own Christian heritage is more than a once a week event. Sabbath is a time of rest, of play, of intimacy with God and with one another. Shalom, often translated as peace or wholeness, becomes our goal as we put into action the assertion that we can stop trying to manufacture our own prosperity long enough to simply enjoy our Creator.
To practice Sabbath, therefore, we must stop participating in our normally scheduled routines so that we can allow for new things to emerge. Resting, contemplating and praying represent the fruit of our rest, of our Sabbath. It is in this spirit of rest and renewal that we present these plans for our church life this summer.
On Wednesday, June 7th, we will celebrate our final Sylva First Wednesday of the year. Our church has worked hard to prepare food, brew coffee, serve and clean-up these many Wednesdays of the last nine months. Adults and staff members alike have worked overtime to provide for our children and youth. Until Wednesday, August 23, our kitchen will be dark and our facility will be slumbering. Sundays mornings will continue as they always have, providing opportunities for Bible Study and Worship. But in the void left by the departure of our midweek Bible Study and mission activities, we can now find new ways to learn, new ways to engage, new ways to grow.
I hope you will make room in your head, and on your calendar, to grow spiritually this summer. We are offering four seminar-fashioned times to learn about ourselves and one another with the help of the Enneagram—an ancient Christian tool for understanding personalities and our motivations in life. More than any other instrument in our tool box of Christian enrichment, the Enneagram provides the most thoughtful, Christ-centered approach to discovering what abundant life truly looks like. Summer is the perfect time to sample this kind of experience as it provides us with hammocks to be reflective in and thunderstorms to call us away from our gardens to contemplate the Almighty’s creation in you and me. This experience begins this Sunday afternoon at 4:30 PM. Join us.
Additionally, we are placing a premium on play, and on laughter, and on connecting with one another. We have scheduled family picnics, one in each of the coming three months to provide us the chance to get outside and to enjoy God’s creation in our beautiful mountains. These events, in familiar locations (East LaPorte Pavilion on June 11 at 4 PM, Waterrock Knob on July 16th at 4 PM and Deep Creek on Sunday, August 27 at 4 PM), will give us the chance to gather as the one big intergenerational family that we are. As a church family, we’re experiencing an extended season of growth, making it the perfect time to meet our newest members, become better acquainted with those who have been visiting with us, and to roll around on blankets with our slate of newborn babies.
As you’ve probably figured out, that still leaves some space in our summer calendar. Good! Use it wisely, choosing to host a Sunday School party or plan an adventure with people who sit on your pew. Drop by our Summer Explorers Camp and lend a hand while they play, romp and learn on our church campus. Volunteer in our week of Vacation Bible School we sponsor alongside our other Main Street Churches.
There are countless ways to serve, and to be connected this summer, but it will require you to take some initiative. In order to grow, you’ve first got to be planted. So, plant yourself in soil that will enable new seeds to germinate. Position yourself in a place where you can get good, direct sunlight so that you can reach for the source of all life. Space yourself out carefully so that the weeds of the world don’t choke the life out of you.
It’s summer in our mountains! And it begins now.
“So Far As It Depends On You”
Paul is choosing his words carefully here. He knows that what he’s about to say is going to be a hard-sell.
“If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:18)
It’s a strange statement when compared to the broader passage of scripture from Romans 12. Paul sounds like a preacher who is firing on all cylinders with powerful precision. Listen: “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.”
There is a cadence to his message for the church in Rome. “Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer.” And, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”
And then he hits a speed bump.
“If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:18)
Something has thrown Paul off his game. His typically terse, powerful prose has been tripped up by two strangely placed qualifiers. The content of his statement about living harmoniously with others is consistent with his broader message of encouraging a community that is grounded in Christ-like love and deference for one another. In truth, Paul should have simply stated, “Live peaceably with all.”
But he didn’t. Instead, Paul inserts two awkwardly placed statements. Did you catch them? They are: “If it is possible,” and, “So far as it depends on you.”
Why does Paul begin to tiptoe here? Why does he pause and squint before stating his admonition?
Paul wants the church to live in peace. But he knows that will be harder than it sounds.
“If it is possible…”
It is possible to live in peace together, but a community defined by shalom—peace, wholeness-- requires intentionality. Peace doesn’t just happen, and it’s certainly not simply the absence of conflict. Paul was wise to parse his words carefully.
In our context, and in my experience, the element within our churches that has the power to be the most contentious and divisive centers on the work of the church. It is our common work together, side-by-side and hand in hand, that provides the setting for disagreement and conflict. And why should we be surprised? Like any family system, we’re going to see things differently from one another. Furthermore, we’re going to have different solutions to the challenges that we face. Add to that our different personalities, our vastly different life experiences and circumstances, and it’s a surprise that we don’t fuss at one another more often! Much of the conflict that arises out of the work of the church centers on misunderstandings and miscommunications, oversights and mis-dealings. In the sports world, we call these, ‘unforced errors.’
And sometimes, we just flat-out mess up. We forget to show up when we said that we would. We make the wrong recommendation. We say the wrong thing. We fail to provide a quality offering of our time and energy. We miss the mark.
When these inevitable (yes, inevitable, as in, ‘they will happen’ to us all) moments arise, it is imperative that we own up to them, apologize with sincerity to the person most-impacted by our mistake(s), and then trust the mercy they extend to us.
Also, “If it is possible,” means practicing the spiritual discipline of giving one another the benefit of the doubt. This discipline works from the presumption that each of us is working for good. When we trust that, then much of our conflict can be nipped in the bud.
“So far as it depends on you…”
Living peaceably with one another does depend on us. We have a role to play in the health of our community. And the best way for us to contribute to the health and wholeness of our families, our workplaces and our church is to know ourselves. For when we don’t know our gifts, predilections, shadow-sides and ‘favorite’ sins, then we do great damage to the people we love most.
I have found that the Enneagram—an ancient Christian tool to understand both our personalities and our sins—to be an effective tool to help me better understand myself and others. As Richard Rohr has described it, “The Enneagram can help us to purify our self-perception, to become unsparingly honest toward ourselves, and to discern better and better when we are hearing only our inner voices and impressions and are prisoners of our prejudices—and when we are capable of being open to what is new.”
On Sunday afternoon, June 4 at 4:30 PM in our newly renovated chapel, we will be meeting to begin a summer-long journey of self-discovery. I hope you will choose to join us—you simply have to show up to our first meeting to get onboard. We will be offering childcare (please let our office know by Wednesday, May 31). Our initial meeting will be an introduction and orientation to the Enneagram. The following three meetings (on three Sunday afternoons at the same time: June 25, July 9 and August 6) will be a time of further exploration of the nine different types, or personalities, that exist. Ultimately, throughout the course of this summer, we will learn more about ourselves and about others. For when we better understand one another, we can ultimately become more gracious with ourselves and the people around us. Love, for ourselves and for others, is our goal.
“If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.”
It is possible. And it does depend upon both you and me.
Shalom.
Do the Hard Thing
“Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” –Philippians 2:12-13
"Do the hard thing," Dr. John Stott said to his assistant before he died in 2011. “Do the hard thing.”
As David Brooks, the acclaimed writer and journalist observes, “Dr. Stott believed that choosing the easy trail, the road most taken, and the path of least resistance can only end in mediocrity—even if it comes with praise.”
I’d like to invite you to do something hard. I’d like for you to work out your salvation with fear and trembling.
I know what you’re thinking because I’ve thought it myself. “Why should we work out our salvation when our salvation in Christ Jesus has already been assured?” We work out our salvation with “fear and trembling” because salvation is more than eternal life. Salvation happens when our lives are converted from who we were to who God wants us to become in this life. Because of God’s love and grace in the person of Jesus Christ, how can we not be willing to change—that is, to be redeemed; to be sanctified?
For long stretches of my life, I have resisted the hard thing. I have chosen the path of least resistance and been content to react to life rather than to do the hard work of self-reflection. In short, I have not wanted to ask the hard questions that might nudge me to grow spiritually. I have been hesitant to consider who I am and what I am here for. I’ve been content to acknowledge my gifts while quick to ignore my gifts’ shadow sides.
Let me try and explain.
When I was 24 years old I naively took a difficult summer internship. I was in my ‘middler’ year—seminary-speak for my second of the three-year master’s program—and decided to spend three months in Winston-Salem serving as a chaplain at Wake Forest’s Baptist Hospital. The program was called Clinical Pastoral Education. The experience was two-fold. One half of my summer was spent serving as a pastor to patients. The other half was spent in one-on-one supervision and group work.
Yea. It was the ‘other half’ that tripped me up. The one-on-one supervision and group work was intended to provide me a greater sense of self-awareness. My supervisor asked me difficult questions about myself—my hopes, my fears, my gifts, my liabilities, my sense of call—and my group challenged me personally, giving me a mirror to see myself through their eyes.
This was hard work. In truth, it’s some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. I was defensive in my group work. I was combative with my supervisor. I did not like how self-discovery felt. And yet, I learned how important it is to go through life with my eyes wide open.
As I discovered, we have been shaped by many forces in the world—genetically, from our family of origin, from our earliest experiences with threats and challenges, from the unique cultural context we were born into… you get the idea. The hard work that I experienced that summer as a seminarian revolved around the task of peeling back these layers to see the person God had created, which happens to be the person God loves and the person God has called me to become.
Discovering who you are is difficult work, and it’s not for the faint of heart. And yet, it is precisely what the Apostle Paul is calling the church at Philippi to do when he says, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
Jesus implores his disciples to open their eyes. Jesus begs the curious to be born again. Jesus tells us that he came to bring us abundant life. We wake up to God’s work in us when we learn about our gifts and our shadows and the power that they have on us.
So, I’d like for you to do the hard thing and join me on a journey of self-discovery. In the church world we call this ‘spiritual growth.’ Make no mistake; it is hard work. But it is deeply rewarding and fulfilling to have an ‘a-ha!’ moment of epiphany when we see how the building blocks of our lives fit together for the good that God has created in us.
The tool that I would like to use to guide our journey is called the Enneagram. Personally, I have come to this tool rather late. In truth, I wish it had been available when I began my own work years ago. I have found the Enneagram to be a gentle and effective way to see God’s truth and to become more gracious with myself and others. Many Christian traditions have been using the Enneagram in retreat settings and pastoral care for years and years.
The Enneagram is an ancient Christian philosophy that was developed by wise, ascetic believers in the fourth century. The Enneagram, which means nine-sided figure, is represented as a circle. Its purpose is to provide a way for us to better understand ourselves and to recognize the root sin that we retreat to when threatened. As Richard Rohr describes it, “[The Enneagram] is concerned with change and making a turnaround, with what the religious traditions call conversion and repentance. It confronts us with compulsions and laws under which we live—usually without being aware of it—and it aims us to go beyond them, to take steps into the domain of freedom.”
The Enneagram is but one of many tools to help us see the un-seeable in ourselves. But, it is the one that has provided me with the most significant ‘breakthrough’ moments in my spiritual life.
So, I would like to invite you to journey with me in learning about ourselves. We’ll use the Enneagram as a tool for self-discovery, and I will provide the resources and the tools we’ll need to do this important work. I’ve purposely placed this invitation at the end of my article because I suspect some readers didn’t make it this far. And that’s okay. Although I believe Paul’s command for us to work out our salvation with fear and trembling is of critical importance for us all, the timing may not be right for everyone now. Thus, I am not making this compulsory. We will not make this process mandatory in worship, or on a Wednesday night. Instead, I’d like to provide the space to invite you to join me on this journey.
And this is how you can: Tell me you want to come along as a fellow sojourner on this path of self-discovery. Call me at the church and let me know you want to know more (828-226-9308). Text me and tell me that you’re in. Send me an email (fbcsylva@gmail.com) and let me know that you want to learn alongside me. I will then notify you about how a small group will emerge this summer to begin this most important work.
Are you still reading? If so, you may be curious enough to take the next step. Do the hard thing. Learn more about the person God has called you to be.
I’m looking forward to beginning that journey with you this summer.
Faith or Fraud, Your Response Matters
“While they were going, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests everything that had happened. After the priests had assembled with the elders, they devised a plan to give a large sum of money to the soldiers, telling them, “You must say, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ If this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story is still told among the Jews to this day.” -Matthew 28:11-15
Could the resurrection of Jesus Christ have been staged?
Yes, it most certainly could have.
The question of Christ’s resurrection has been debated for centuries. In fact, the most reasonable and historically accurate response to the story of Jesus is to conclude that he was a gifted and charismatic revolutionary who gathered a following because of his authoritative teachings. End of story. Yes, of course, some would believe that he was divine—that he was raised from the dead. But, modern, enlightened minds know that this is a stretch.
Increasingly, Christians are less and less sure that Jesus experienced a bodily resurrection. A poll of Christians in Britain this year revealed that 25% of self-proclaiming believers do not believe in Jesus’s resurrection. Was Jesus simply a brilliant peasant from a backwater community in an occupied land some 21 centuries ago?
I find Chuck Colson’s response to this question to be compelling. Chuck Colson came to know Christ when he was an adult. Before his conversion, Colson was Special Counsel to President Nixon from 1969 until 1973. Pleading guilty for his role in the Watergate scandal, Colson would later serve time in prison. Until his death in 2012, Colson was a leader in prison ministry and a passionate defender of the Good News of Jesus Christ. This is what Colson had to say about the resurrection:
“I know the resurrection is a fact, and Watergate proved it to me. How? Because 12 men testified they had seen Jesus raised from the dead, then they proclaimed that truth for 40 years, never once denying it. Everyone was beaten, tortured, stoned and put in prison. They would not have endured that if it weren't true. Watergate embroiled 12 of the most powerful men in the world-and they couldn't keep a lie for three weeks. You're telling me 12 apostles could keep a lie for 40 years? Absolutely impossible.”
No, this argument will not win plaudits from the Academy or the most learned among us. And yet, in light of what he read in Matthew about the priests’ instructions to the guards that they must say that, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep,’ Colson’s observation from his own experience sounds persuasive.
This Sunday, we will look anew at arguably the most significant moment of Matthew’s account of Jesus. It’s the moment where Jesus asks his followers who they think that he is.
“Now when Jesus came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” –Matthew 16:13-15
How we respond to Jesus’s question will ultimately impact the trajectory and content of our lives.
Consider the evidence. Pray about it.
And like the travelers who had not spotted the Christ who was traveling beside them on the way to Emmaus, allow for the fact that Jesus may reveal himself to you at any moment.
All My Bags Are Packed
The first sermon I ever preached was in a small village chapel in England. It was the summer before my final year in college. I was serving as a student missionary with the Baptist State Convention.
I cannot recall the text I preached on, and I cannot place the content of my sermon. But, I do remember this. The worship service was a particularly powerful moment for me as I experienced my call to ministry confirmed. It was a good and important day for me.
I have been invited to preach this Sunday at Kerygma Baptist Church in Holguin, Cuba. Just as Pastor Ernesto preached for us when he was visiting last summer, I have been asked to return the favor. Unlike my first international preaching engagement back in 1996, this sermon will need to be translated. This will be a new experience for me as I’ve never had to consider the seesaw dynamic that will emerge between me and our translator. Lucky for them, my sermon will be double the length. Lucky for you, you won’t have to sit through it.
And yet, I thought that you might appreciate the opportunity to read what I will be preaching in Cuba this Sunday. Below is a sermon with a couple of salient objectives—namely, that it can be easily translated and second, that it can be a good follow-up to our church’s previous trips to Holguin. The sermon is one-part personal introduction, one-part celebration of our partnership, one-part discussion on the Biblical text, and one-part presentation of our gift to their church. (I know, that’s a lot of ‘parts’ for a sermon to have)
Thank you for your support as we travel to our sister-church. Thank you for your prayers as we travel. My family and I are most-grateful for your encouragement and investment in our trip. I look forward to seeing you next week.
Rooted in Christ, Colossians 1 & 2
When I was a boy, I wanted to grow up to be a weather man. I loved to look at maps. I loved to study the clouds. I loved the drama of an afternoon rain storm. I loved the refreshment of rain drops in a drought. But above all, I loved snow.
Although my family is from the mountains of Western North Carolina, I spent most of my childhood growing up in the city of Atlanta. It doesn’t snow much in Atlanta, and I was lucky if I saw one dab of snow in the winter months each year. When my family moved to the North Carolina mountains when I was a youth, I was delighted by the unique, and at times, fantastic weather events. In the mountains, the mornings were chilly and cloaked in fog. Snow was more plentiful and more frequent than in the city of Atlanta. And the rain made the mountain valleys and coves a lush green. And the trees! The trees that covered the mountains were glorious! Feasting off the plentiful rain, the diversity and variety of the trees made the forest seem like a magical land from a fairy tale. Because of the rain, and the cloudy mountain coves, the trees flourished and provided a canopy that shielded the forest floor from the sun. And in the fall, when the weather would begin to shift from hot to cold, a metamorphosis would occur in the trees. The leaves would change color from a dark green to vibrant shades of yellow, orange, red, and purple.
Of course, I didn’t become a weather man. When I went off to college, I discovered that I was not good at math, and was even worse in science. During this time, however, I learned that God was calling me to be a pastor. I fought God’s call for some time. I ignored God’s direction. I denied God’s desire for my life. But I could not escape God’s will. Like Jonah who ran in the opposite direction from where God wanted him, God kept bringing me back to where God wanted me.
Over the years, I’ve served in a variety of capacities with the church. I have worked with children. I have served with youth. I have been a pastor to college students. I have become a pastor to an entire congregation. But I have never given up my love for studying the weather. My love for weather and the natural world has enriched my ministry. God’s world has been a marvelous classroom for me to learn more about God’s Word.
Last year, Pastor Ernesto visited with us at our church in North Carolina. I had the honor of showing your pastor around the mountains that I love. We went high up on the mountains. We walked through the forest coves and valleys. We rode together in a boat on our lakes and rivers. And as we spent time together, our friendship grew. Although we do not speak a common language, the language of love and brotherhood confirmed that we are sons of the same Father—our Father in Heaven.
A few moments ago, I read to you a passage from Paul’s letter to the church in Colosse. The book of Colossians is a letter from Paul to a partnering church. The church, like our two churches, needed a word of encouragement. And Paul, as we see, does not mince words. His message was curt. He said, “Don’t give up on Jesus! Don’t be diluted by the culture. Don’t be diluted by fear and anxiety about the threats you face. Be strong knowing that Christ will give you the grit you need to stand firm. The world will seek to misdirect you. But do not be deceived by its false teachings. Christ is supreme!”
Paul reminds the church that God has rescued us from the power of darkness so that we can share in the inheritance of the saints in light. To be rescued from darkness means that we are redeemed. To be redeemed means that we are forgiven. To be forgiven means that we become sons and daughters of God.
Kerygma Baptist Church, Paul’s words of encouragement to the church in Colosse are the same words of blessing that my church has for you. Since the day we began our partnership, we have not ceased praying for you. We are praying that God will grant you wisdom and perspective, vision and creativity. The First Baptist Church in Sylva is praying that you bear fruit and that you grow in your faithfulness to our God in heaven. We wish for you God’s strength, God’s patience, God’s joy. And we pray for our partnership together, that we might learn from one another. We pray for our friendship, that we might trust one another. We pray for you, our brothers and sisters in Christ, that we might see God in the faces and expressions of one another.
Our churches will be stronger through our partnership. Our world needs more partnerships, more alliances, more cooperation. And God’s Kingdom in Christ Jesus will lay the foundation for us to be connected, even though we live in a disconnected, fragmented and broken world.
No, I did not become a weather man. But I still love to study the weather. I like to study the radar which shows a picture of the rain that will fall on our mountains. The bountiful rain helps our trees to grow to enormous heights. And it is in our forests that we can find a word of encouragement for our churches. Hidden deep in our mountains is a grove of trees that has never been harvested. Because it has been untouched by loggers, the trees have been able to grow to extraordinary heights. They tower to the heavens, and are so wide that it takes an entire family of five to encircle it. How do these trees remain standing when a storm comes and the winds roar down the mountainsides? The trees stand because the roots of these trees become intertwined with one another. Because they are connected beneath the surface, when one tree begins to bend, the other trees’ roots hold it up and make it stronger.