The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Georgia

BLOG ARCHIVE

January 11, 2006 - November 11, 2007

Bradley J. (Brad) Miller

Past Moderator, Christian Church Disciples of Christ in Georgia
Senior Minister, Brookhaven Christian Church

Contact me: (404) 237-3030          E-mail: brad@brookhavenchristian.org

January 11, 2006

A little over 20 years ago, I moved to Boston to take a job teaching at Northeastern University.  The person who had the office next door to mine was also new to Northeastern, but she had lived in Boston for about 20 years.  Over lunch one day, curious about how long it takes for someone to be comfortable in a new place, she asked,   "Would you let me know when this feels like home?" 

I was reminded of that conversation today because I had lunch with a former student of mine who has just relocated to Atlanta.  She talked about the excitement of coming to a new place, the opportunities, as well as some of the challenges and fears that accompany such a move.  I was struck that this August it will have been 10 years since Carol and I came to Atlanta. I have lived in 5 different states, and at some point, each of them became my home.  When? It is hard to say.  But something has been rattling around in my head for a month or so, and I think it may have something to do with this issue.

I grew up in Detroit, not far from the great old hockey arena, Olympia Stadium.  It was the home of the Detroit Red Wings and on Saturdays, the games were in the afternoon.  We could ride our bikes to the arena and for $1 you could buy a "Standing Room" ticket and watch the likes of Gordie Howe, Frank Mahovilich, Alex Delvecchio and Roger Crozier take on the rest of the league including such legends as Bobby Orr, Gump Worsley, Bernie "Boom Boom" Geoffrion, Maurice "The Rocket" Richard, and his brother, Henri "The Pocket Rocket" Richard.  Many of you know that I am a baseball fan and given my choice of almost any activity, taking in a baseball game would be high on my list of priorities.  But for sheer exhilaration, excitement and jump out of your seat action, there is nothing like being at a hockey game.  In fact, here in Atlanta, Carol and I get to about 8 to 10 Thrashers games a year.

Just before this past Christmas, the Red Wings came to town, and we had tickets.  The Wings have the best record in the league and it was sure to be a blowout.  I wore my Red Wings jersey and was ready to cheer them on.  But a funny thing happened: I found myself jumping up whenever the Thrashers did something good!  I didn't get that excited when the Wings scored.  It was a very, very odd feeling.  A woman in our row, also wearing a Red Wings jersey, was also cheering the Thrashers on loudly.  What was going on here?  Well, I've watched the Thrashers get better and better, and here they were, in a dogfight with "my" team, yet I couldn't help but root for the team that I have been following closely this year.  Needless to say, it was a very confusing evening.  But, by the time game ended, I had simply given in to it and cheered loudly when the Thrashers won 7 - 6 in a wild finish.

Today, it dawned on me why this happened:  because I am home.  

But it isn't something as silly as a winning hockey team that causes this to be true. Thinking back to all the places I have lived, some common threads exist to helping me feel at home:  It is feeling like I have some stake in the community.  It is feeling like I am surrounded by people who care about me.  It is feeling comfortable being who I am all the time.  And the biggest thing is the feeling that comes from being part of a faith community that nurtures and supports me. It was true in Cambridge when I became involved with the Harvard Epworth Church.  It was true in Foxboro after Carol and I were married and we became involved with Sharon Congregational Church; it was true in Ann Arbor when we joined Memorial Christian Church and it is true for me now as part of Brookhaven Christian Church.  Because of the love and care of this wonderful community, I am home.  And I thank you for helping to make that possible.  In the end, when we find the support and strength of a true community, we will know we are home. God's plan is for us to live in community, and I have found that here.  And I am not the only one. 

Together, we are the body of Christ.  Together, we are the church. Together, we are home.

But, I'm still not sure I can root against the Tigers when they play the Braves.

I have just returned from a Disciples Development Conference in Tampa, Florida.  I know, I know, it's tough work, but somebody has to do it!  Hey, if they held the conferences in Buffalo, I'd go there, too.maybe.

Anyway, there is always something good to be garnered when I go to an event of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).  It is not always what the conference organizers intend, but something always garners my interest and gets me thinking.   This past week was no exception.

In a session talking about her view of the state of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Verity Jones, the Editor in Chief of "Disciple World Magazine" said, "We are losing people to the culture."  It struck me so much that I wrote the quote down in my notes with 3 asterisks by it!  It especially resonated with me because I have been reading a lot about the struggle of church and culture the last few weeks.  In February, our worship will focus on the theme "The Church in the 21^st Century: Church and Culture."  So, this statement really caught my attention.  But what are we to do about it?  Why is it happening?  Is it because of something we don't offer?  Is it because of what we do offer?  Is it because we are too strict in our interpretation of how God would have us live?  Or is it because we are not strict enough in that interpretation?  When did the church cease to be relevant to so many people?  This last question is especially bothersome in light of some recent statistics I saw.  That is, between 1930 and 1990, church membership more than doubled in the United States.  To be sure, there has been some decline since 1990, but it has not dropped anywhere close to pre-WWII levels.  So something drew all those people in!  What?

Today's missive cannot possibly answer the question of relevance, but when I look at the folks at BCC, I know that something very real and very relevant keeps them involved in the life of the church.  While I am thankful for that, I think we also would do well to ask ourselves what makes the church relevant to us.  What makes the church relevant to you?  I really would appreciate your answer, because if it's important to you, it probably is important to someone else.  And the more we know, the more we can truly open ourselves to all those who need what we have.  Because in the end, we are not here for ourselves.  Let's make "relevance" a big part of our vocabulary in 2006!.

Like many of you, I watched or listened to much of the memorial service for Coretta Scott King on Tuesday.  And, like many of you, I found myself thinking back to times past.  Besides conjuring up images of Mrs. King leading marches and speaking, I remembered a time in 1978 when I had the chance to meet her.

I was a college student at the time and had a job as a kitchen supervisor at the Kellogg Center Continuing Education and Conference Center in East Lansing, Michigan.  One night, while doing paper work in my office, a young man walked in and said, "Is there a place we can hang up Mrs. King's coat?"  He was, of course, referring to Coretta Scott King who was at the Kellogg Center for an Urban League gathering.  There event was across the hall from my office and so it was a logical request.  "Sure," I said, "we can hang it here in our closet."

About an hour and a half later, the door opened again, and I was surprised to see Mrs. King herself standing in front of my desk.  She asked if she could retrieve her coat.  I about fell over myself saying, "Yes, ma'am," and when I had retrieved, we did one of those awkward back and forth "dances" until she laughed, turned around and allowed me to slip her coat on.  She thanked me, and said, "One more thing.  Could you please gather the kitchen help and the wait staff and the custodial staff so I could thank them?"  Without hesitation, I ran to the kitchen, then called the front desk with the request.  Within minutes, a couple dozen people were lined up outside my office, and Mrs. King went down the line, talked to each person individually, called them all by name and thanked them.  At the end of the line, she shook my hand and seeing my name tag said, "And thank you Brad for helping make this a nice evening."  With that she turned and walked away with her companion.  I turned back toward the people gathered in the hall and saw ear to ear grins on every person there.  We were all chattering excitedly, fully aware of what had just happened.  We had been touched by one of the influential people of the 20^th century.  We spoke of our surprise at how nice she was, how gracious she was.  We were amazed that she had taken the time to talk to us, of all people.

On Tuesday, speech after speech extolled her virtues, but the ones that affected me the most were the young people who had been touched by Mrs. King in a personal and profound way.  Gang members brought out of lives of violence spoke of her compassion and beauty.  Thinking about my encounter with her, I was not surprised that she had been an influence in the lives of "normal folks."   After all, when she visited Kellogg Center, she could have thanked the people who thought they ran the place, the people in the expensive suits who sat in the big offices upstairs, but she didn't.  She thanked those of who really ran the place, the people in uniforms and nametags, working for tips and minimum wage.  And I bet none of us will ever forget it.

The band Green Day has a wonderful song out called "Wake Me Up When September Ends."  I would like to steal part of that title from them and title my new song "Wake Me Up When February Ends."

As many of you know, my February has been particularly rough this year.  Mind you, it was never my favorite month of the year.  Growing up, it was the harshest, longest month of winter and spring seemed to be too far off to give anyone any hope.  This February is different though.  Early on the morning of February 11^th, I got a call that my father had lapsed into a coma, and by early afternoon, got the call that he had slipped away.  It was a call that we had been half expecting for some time, but still, it is a call you never want to get.

Carol and I traveled north to Michigan to be with my brother and sister and their families, and were strengthened by your prayers and support on our way.  Believe me when I say that it makes a difference.  We were supported by friends and family in Michigan in an odd sort of wonderful celebration.  Gathering to say goodbye, yet happy to be in each others company.  It is amazing to realize how many connections one makes in a lifetime.  One lady who came to the visitation was a stranger to us, but as we introduced ourselves she told us that she had seen the obituary in the Detroit paper and had to come.  You see, my father had taken her on her first date some 65 years earlier!  It was great to hear her story, and to tell stories with so many others.  What a comfort to be surrounded by people who loved him so much.  We were especially comforted by the presence of Marc Burch, who told us he was there representing Brookhaven.  I cannot begin to tell you how much that meant to all of us.  For all your cards, your support, your prayers, your thoughts, your good wishes, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.  They all helped.

Friday night after the funeral, my niece became ill.  Saturday it was my sister and myself.  We later heard that my grand-nephews were both sick, as was my other niece and nephew.  I came home with a 102 degree fever and a wracking cough.  I have not been fully back in the office since returning, working at home, resting and not wanting to spread what I have to anyone here.  But I am getting there and look forward to being with you on Sunday.

I know I have said it, and I will continue to say it:  I don't know how someone without a church home, without a caring community of faith, gets through these times.  I know that I am not through it yet.  There is grieving still to be done and I know that I will come back to "normal" only slowly, only in fits and starts.  But I will make it because of my faith in Jesus Christ and because of the extraordinary people of the Brookhaven Christian Church who have surrounded me just as they surround every other member in their time of need: with friendship and love and support.  Thank you all.

Believe it or not, Lent is officially here. The revelry of Mardi Gras and Shrove Tuesday is behind us, and now we turn our attention away from feeding of our physical appetites and turn our attention toward the source of our spiritual nourishment, our relationship with God.

Lent is a curious time of year, in many ways.  In some churches it is too often a time of foreboding and heaviness.  We may be reminded of our own self-indulgence, our self chosen separation from the teachings of Jesus and the presence of God, of our own sinfulness.  On Ash Wednesday, we are reminded that we came from dust, and to dust we shall return. And while all those things are true and should be part of our contemplation and introspection at this time of year, I think the attitude with which we deal with these issues makes all the difference in the world.  I for one, enter this time of introspection and self-renewal with a sense of awe and of celebration.  We have been given an incredible gift in our personal relationship with Jesus Christ, and we should use this time to discover how we can be ever more vigilant and ever more faithful in that relationship.  But the overall sense is not one of doom and gloom!  No, it is of celebration!  We celebrate Lent in order to become closer to God, in order to become better Christians, in order to better live out our calling and that type of self searching and change is hard work.  But it is always in celebration of the fact that we are children of God, unworthy as we are.

Today we celebrate Ash Wednesday.  During the service today we will be told:  "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."  For many people these words are full of foreboding and fear.  For the Ash Wednesday celebrant, they are words of trust and awe.  God is in charge; we are not.  God is immortal; our earthly journey will one day end and at that point we will becomes part of God's promised eternity.  We trust in God's goodness; God does not betray our trust.  And all of that leads me to celebrate and to begin Lent by asking the question, "How can I better serve God who serves me so lovingly?" 

I hope you will join in to this Ash Wednesday celebration, and will find your Lenten journey to be one of celebration and renewal.

I love this time of year.  The trees are budding, I realize about half way through the day that I really didn't need that jacket I put on this morning, the sky looks a little more blue and the re-birth that is Spring is all around us.  Now, I don't want to jinx us or anything, but Winter is clearly on the wane, and Spring is making it's presence known more and more every day.  And when Easter comes a little bit later (like it does this year) I love that the renewal of the coming Spring and the renewal that is Lent happen at the same time.

It hasn't always been that way for me.  Growing up in Michigan, Easter was as likely to be blanketed with snow as it was to be bathed in warm sunshine.  In the area known as the Saginaw Valley, that stretches some 100 miles through southeastern lower Michigan, and includes Detroit, sunshine is at a premium in Winter.  It is in fact, one of the least sunny places in the country.  Gray day after gray day are the norm through January, February and March.  I recently was talking with an uncle, who in retirement, splits his time between South Carolina and Michigan.  I asked him how he liked it and he said that there were things he missed when he was in South Carolina, but the thing he absolutely loves is the sunshine.  I agree completely.

In last week's blog, I wrote of the celebration that is Lent.  The celebration that makes us realize what a wonderful gift we have been given and what a joy it is to contemplate how we can best serve our God.  A couple of folks told me that they had always looked at Lent as a somber time of reflection.  A time when we must own up to our sins and work to be better people.  A time of agonizing soul searching.  Well, it is a time of reflection, and it is a time we must own up to our sins, and it is a time to look ourselves in the mirror and recognize that we can do better.  But, my point is that as we come to grips with those things, we need to look to all we have been given, renew our commitment to our God, meditate on all that Jesus has done for us, and move into the world joyfully and in full celebration mode.

So, how do these two things fit together: the warm, sunny days and the disciplines of Lent?  In this way: the renewal that is spring is testimony to the renewal that can take place in our hearts during Lent.  We are not perfect people, and we do need God's strength to see us through.  But the promise is that with God's help and our concerted efforts to be who God would have us be, the arc of our lives will mimic the arc of the wonderful season of Spring.  The time of rebirth and renewal of God's creation fits together with the rebirth and renewal of God's people. So, throw off those jackets!  Throw off those sins!  Enjoy the weather!  Enjoy the warmth of God's love!  Pledge to spend more time admiring God's handiwork!  Pledge to spend more time looking at the life you have been given, and give thanks to God!

There is one more reason that I love this time of year.  It is best summed up by something I saw in the paper on Tuesday:  "Final Score: Detroit Tigers 8, Atlanta Braves 2."  (Now, you really didn't think I was going to let that one slip by did you?)

An article caught my eye this past Saturday in the "Faith and Values" section of the Atlanta Journal Constitution. It was an interview with noted historian Garry Wills about his new book, "What Jesus Meant."  It caught my attention first, because I am a fan of Garry Wills work.  He is a gifted writer as well as a highly regarded historian.  His book "Lincoln at Gettysburg" won the Pulitzer Prize and his book "The Kennedy Imprisonment" is one of the most insightful looks at a complex man and President as has ever been written.  The second thing about the article that caught my attention is that once again, as he has in the past, Wills is turning his substantial skills to a topic related to his faith.  Wills is a practicing Roman Catholic who has written books entitled "Why I am a Catholic", "The Rosary" and "Papal Sins" among others related to his personal faith journey.

In his newest book, Wills turns his attention to the 21^st  century church and how Jesus would react to it.  While I have not yet read the book, I am extremely eager to do so. It seems as if Wills has set himself up for the wrath of church members everywhere.  His basic premise seems to be that we in the 21^st century church have gotten it all wrong.  He seems to believe that Jesus' message was one of the heart, of love, of service, of personally connecting to God.  And the church does not fit in with his reading of the Gospels.  Wills is quoted as saying, "Jesus was actively opposed to everything religious in his own day.  To the temple, to the Sabbath, to the priesthood.  Why would he be any different now?" As I said, I haven't read the book, so I can't judge the logic of his argument or the direction of his theology.  I sincerely hope, however, that people will not stay away from this book because it seems to attack organized religion.  I think it is imperative that we take a good hard look of any critique of organized religion if we are to stay true to our calling as the church of Jesus Christ.

Let's be honest: there are things that have been done in the name of the church that can be questioned.  People have been shunned by the church.  People have been hurt by the church.  There can be no doubt in my mind that that is not what Jesus wanted.  We hear stories of churches that become so entrenched in political issues, both to the right and to the left, that they may as well be political organizations.  We hear stories of churches that seek to keep those who are different out of their midst.  We hear stories of churches that preach the acquisition of wealth as if were the main part of the Sermon on the Mount. (I'm pretty sure it's not.)  And in hearing these stories, we should make sure we take a good hard look at ourselves. If we can ask ourselves, "Does what we do serve God by promoting the spread of the Gospel of Jesus Christ?" and we can answer in the affirmative, we are probably on the right track. But if we cannot, we probably need to do some prayerful soul searching.

I am thankful for people like Garry Wills who challenge us to take a good hard look at ourselves and our understanding of what God would have us do.  I believe that the church is the best avenue for sharing the Good News with a hurting world.  As long as we realize it is Christ's church, not ours.

Recently I saw a movie called "Find Me Guilty" which featured a scene where the main character was talking with his daughter.  The daughter was in her 20's and the conversation was taking place in a prison visiting room.  They sat on opposite sides of a thick glass partition and could only communicate through telephone receivers.  Even though the father was imprisoned, the relationship between father and daughter was strong.  The relationship between father and mother, however, was a different story.  Clearly there was a falling out and they had not spoken in a long time, maybe years.  As they talked, the father said optimistically, "Well, what's done is done, but you know what the two most wonderful words in the English language are?  Things change."

The move was enjoyable, if not exactly "Citizen Kane."    But that line has stuck with me for several days now.  The two most wonderful words in the English language:  things change.  The more I have let it run around in my head, the more I have come to believe that the father might well be absolutely right.  And the reason those two words are so wonderful is because they can fit a myriad do situations and they can carry with them the most hopeful connotation imaginable.  Things going badly at work?  Things change.  Having a difficult time in a relationship?  Things change.  Health issues got you down?  Things change.  Feeling lonely?  Things change.  Feeling weighed down by grief?  Things change.  Overwhelmed by guilt?  Things change.

For some, that might seem to be overly optimistic and not very realistic.  If we adopt that attitude, some might call us "Pollyanna."  As Christians, however, we should recognize that this is the embodiment of the Gospel story:  things change.  And why they change is every bit as important as the change itself.  They change because Jesus Christ gave, and gives, us another chance. In Christ, we are extended grace that we do not deserve; grace that allows us to make whatever changes necessary.  In Christ, our sin no longer weighs us down because of what he did.   In Christ, forgiveness is ours and we are told to change others lives by extending that same forgiveness to them.  In Christ, the first have become last, and the last, first.  In Christ, fear can be overcome because of the strength we are shown. In Christ, what once is seen as death is now recognized as the beginning of a new life in God's presence. In Christ, we always have a chance to begin again, to start anew, to put the old behind us and turn our face toward God's grace.  In Christ, things change. I certainly can't think of more wonderful words that those!

Who else has Spring fever? I have been looking for excuses to get outside all day today!  But every time I think I can make a clear break for it, every time I think I have a good time to be able to slip out the door and go for a quick drive for gas, or to the bank, or somewhere, the phone rings with another question, another issue to be dealt with, another person to talk to.  I started out this day by laying out what I wanted to accomplish, and as the day has worn on, I realize that these "distractions" are keeping me from my plans.   Henri Nouwen, noted pastor, theologian, and spiritual leader, dealt with this issue in one of his devotionals.  He complained of being in his office and trying to accomplish what he had planned to do when he kept being distracted.  These interruptions were getting in the way of him doing his ministry.  Then, after a conversation with a parishioner who interrupted him, a conversation that the parishioner really needed to have, Nouwen realized something very important.  It dawned on him that instead of the interruptions getting in the way of his ministry, the interruptions WERE his ministry.

When I get to feeling that I am not accomplishing what I want; when I think that I should be making better progress on some planned project; when I worry that the church is moving too slowly toward a realization of where I think it needs to go, I think of Henri Nouwen, and I realize that I am not in charge.  God is.  My puny little plans pale in comparison with what God would have me be a part of.  Just as Nouwen discovered the challenge, joy and ministry to be found in detouring from his plans, so should we all find the challenge, joy and ministry of dealing with life as it comes.  The more we try to convince ourselves that we are in control of our plans, the more disappointed we will be when life throws us curves.  But when we greet each day working toward being the best God would have us be, and learn to roll with the changes that are thrown at us, the more we will notice the beauty to be found in places we never thought to look.  It's all about keeping our eyes, and our hearts, open to all the possibilities that we are presented with.  And when we are interrupted, blown off course, forced to abandon our plans, relax:  there's life to be lived.

Greetings on this fourth day of baseball season which happens to find the Detroit Tigers all alone in first place, the latest they have been in first place in some 12 years!

(Not exactly the kind of greeting the Apostle Paul had in his letters, eh?)

Let's try this again:

Greetings on this beautiful spring day!

Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend who was talking about the challenges of his Lenten journey this year.  He has been trying hard to focus on understanding just what Jesus did for him and working hard to recommit to being a person worthy of Jesus' grace filled actions.  He said he is getting more and more comfortable with pushing himself to be more humble, less self-serving, and more other serving.  He is trying to strip away the layers of pride and fear that keep him from completely surrendering his life to God's will.  As he progresses on this journey, he said, he feels better, less anxious, more secure.  But every once in a while, something raises up inside him that resents that fact that he is doing more and more for others, and they seem to be appreciating it less and less!  Have you been there?  You know you should do the right thing because its', well, the right thing to do.  But when your efforts are taken for granted, or more importantly, actively disparaged, you start to wonder what it's all about. 

I didn't have a really good answer for my friend ("well, you just can't worry about what others think."  C'mon!  we're human!  We do worry about what others think!)  but I was reminded of a poem by Howard Thurman, Christian pastor, theologian, writer and mystic.  And while I can't guarantee that the poem will transform your life, I think it is one more piece to add into the puzzle that is our spiritual journey.  It is called "Do It Anyway" 

Do It Anyway
 
People are often unreasonable, illogical,
And self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you
Of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

 If you are successful, you will some
False friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
People may cheat you;
Be honest anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
They may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

What you spend years building,
Someone might destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

The good you do today,
People will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
And it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis,
It is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

This past Sunday someone asked me why Holy Week "had" to take place?  After thinking about it for awhile, I said, "I don't know."  (A tried and true answer to almost any question!)  But of course, I continued.  "I don't think it `had' to happen.  It would seem as if God could have achieved the purposes of Holy Week without actually subject Jesus and his followers to that horror.  But, would we have paid attention to some other `kindler, gentler' revelation of Jesus as the Messiah?" 

As I think about that answer, I think it actually has some merit.  (It's always nice when that happens.)  Look at our own lives. Do we fully appreciate abundance when we have never experienced scarcity?  Do we grasp joy as readily if we have never experienced loss?  Do we understand hope without hopelessness?  You see, I don't think God "causes" us to experience difficult times of scarcity.  I don't think God "takes" people from us to teach us a lesson.  I don't think God is the source of hopelessness; we are when we turn away from God.  But in all these different instances, there is something for us to learn, something for us to grasp and appreciate.  The "test" as I see it is, having lived through the experience, what do we learn?

In the case of Holy Week, it would be tempting to just go right past the awful events, not dwell on Jesus' death and simply say "Hallelujah! Christ is Risen!" on Easter Sunday.  But without an understanding of the cost of Holy Week, the gift of Easter is not as readily apparent.  And here's the good news for us:  when we are at our lowest on our faith journey, we can look to the cross and understand that hopelessness is followed by hope, because Jesus Christ lived, died and was resurrected to new life.

 And that's some pretty good news.

The week after Easter is always kind of strange for me.  Even more than Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter really take it out of me.  Oh, it's not just the many and varied activities leading up to and including Holy Week and Easter.  It's also the hard work of focusing on MY faith walk, MY worthiness before God, MY relationship with Christ, MY need to continually work to minimize my missteps.  Spending 40 days in personal introspection is tough!  And then, the jarring events of Holy Week make it all the tougher.  Now all those things that I have been meditating, praying and studying about come into clear focus.  All those "MY" things that I have been working on only have meaning because of the person of Jesus Christ.  Without the realization that Jesus is the messiah, God on earth, all MY introspection is simply an exercise in self aggrandizement.  Without the witness and teachings of Christ, I have no touchstone upon which to base my beliefs and actions.  In the instant that Judas kisses his teacher on the cheek, the focus turns to Jesus.  HIS betrayal,  HIS anxiety, HIS suffering, HIS death.  And then on Sunday, HIS resurrection.

In the switch from "MY" to "HIS" lies what is so affecting for me.  I do need to take a good hard look at MY journey.  But in recognizing HIS presence on our behalf, MY journey begins to make sense.  I slog through much of Holy Week with the weight of the world on my shoulders.  The weight is lifted on Easter Sunday, but then comes the important question:  What is MY response to HIS journey?  That is the challenge of Easter Monday, and Tuesday and July and September.  That is the challenge of our lives: to recognize the usefulness of feeling the weight that accompanies us in our introspection and understanding of Christ's ministry, and to embrace the weightlessness that comes from knowing that because of Jesus, there is always hope.

As we move into Eastertide and beyond, may we not lose the feeling that accompanies our Lenten journey and may we not lose the feeling that we awaken to on Easter morning.  And most importantly, just as Jesus told Mary Magdalene to tell the others, may our lives be beacons of Christ's light that helps illuminate the way for all those who seek him.

April 27, 2006

The older I get the more I come to realize how many important transitions there are in our lives. From childhood to the teenage years.  From High School to whatever life holds beyond.  Marriages.  Births.  Changes in employment.  Moving to a different city, state or neighborhood.  Saying goodbye to friends and loved ones because they have moved, or because they have died.  Some of these transitions are welcome, some are not.  But they are going to come, whether we are prepared or not.

Following the death of my father a couple of months ago, I have been dealing with one of those transitions.  And lately, it seems like many of the people closest to me have also been dealing with the not-so-welcome transitions.  Elderly folks having to make the transition to a different living situation.  Families having to deal with the loss of a loved one.  Changes in jobs and job conditions because of the changing economy.  Health issues. The resulting stress can be very difficult to deal with if you have to deal with it on your own.  And my friends and family who are trying to deal with these transitions alone are having a particularly difficult time of it.  But those who are part of a faith community are finding the going just a little bit easier.  And believe me, on this topic, I know what I am talking about.

This is not to say that it is easy, even with the church surrounding us.  But the nurture and care of our church family and friends helps us to see that in that time when we feel most isolated, we are not alone.  So, why should we be surprised at this?  This understanding of hope is, in fact, the heart of the Gospel.  We are not alone.  God will not leave us.  That lesson is well understood in the midst of the family that is the church.  I thank God every day that I am part of that family.  And I thank you.

I woke up this morning still dealing with the lingering effects of a spring cold.  It isn't something I enjoy, and it is hard to start off the day on a good note when I can barely breathe.

Then, I went outside to begin my morning walk, which almost always makes me feel better, but today, I wasn't convinced it would.  I put in my earphones and dialed my IPod to "Van Morrison" and began my walk.  And then something funny happened, the music, the bright blue sky, the possibilities of the day,  all made me pick up my pace, and for the first time all morning,  I actually smiled!  By the time Van got to singing "Be Thou My Vision", I was fairly well ready to meet the day! 

This month in worship we have been focusing on the theme of "Choices".  We have so many choices in front of us that it can be mind boggling.  But the one choice that I all too often forget about is the choice to simply be happy.  I know it sounds corny, but we have that choice every day.  And all it takes is a quick inventory of the blessings that have been visited upon us.  I know, I know, there are times when we are dealing with things that threaten to overwhelm us: death, illness, injury, loneliness, work problems.  Believe me, I know.  But when I find myself in the midst of those things, that is when the blessings of my life become all the more important.

Several years ago at the time of my ordination, my father in law and father were talking together.  They had both lost their wives in the last few months, almost exactly one month apart.  My dad said to my father in law, "Well, Ernie, you seem to be handling this better than I am."  And Ernie replied something to the effect of, "I miss Fran every day, but you know what?  I still have a lot of blessings to be thankful for and I have decided that I am going to get up every day and live the best I can, no matter what."  There is great wisdom in what he said, and in my down times, I try to keep focused on the blessings that I have been given.  One of the most important blessings that I can think of is the love of God in Christ, as made real through the people of Christ's church.  And that makes me very happy, every day.

What choice will you make today?

Today I have been doing some thinking about a special group of people.our high school graduates.  Here at Brookhaven Christian Church, we have three this year:   Noah Barkson, Steven Kinney and Robert Long.  Graduating high school is one of those times in my life when I can immediately conjure up the feelings that I felt back then.  The memory of where I was, who I was with, what music was playing, how the air tasted, how the sun felt on my face, all those feelings are right there, RIGHT THERE, when I let my mind wander back some 32 years (yikes!)  And the main reason is that graduation from high school was one of those times in my life when everything was about to change, whole new vistas were about to open up, the possibilities that I faced were incredible.  It was one of those times when I really got to start anew and take an exciting step into the unknown, exhilarated by the prospects and thankful to God for the journey in front of me.

I was sharing this with a friend a while back and he nodded and said he understood.  As we talked I said, "I don't spend a lot of time thinking about this, but it sure was a special feeling.  When was the last time you felt that way?"  Without hesitation he said, "This morning."  I doubted his story, incredulous at such an absurd statement.  He laughed and explained.  "The reason graduation sticks in your mind is that you KNEW that this was an end to childhood and a new beginning into adulthood.  Everything was going to change.  Should you get a job or go to college?  Maybe move somewhere you'd always wanted to go.  If you go to college, which one, and what will you study?  You'd been with a lot of the same people for a long time, chances are you were about to meet new people.  What excitement!  But here's the thing: every day offers that same possibility; it's just not so obvious.  And so every day,  I walk out the door and say to myself "What is going to happen today?"  Since I have asked that question, I pay closer attention to things, people, everything going on around me."

I'm not as good at it as my friend, but over the years since we had this conversation, I have done what I could to emulate his routine, and you know what?  When I do, there is an extra bounce in my step, I pay closer attention, I savor each moment just a little bit more, I get excited about what each day might bring.  I simply am more present in life.  Living rather than existing.  Trust me: it's a much better way to be! And so to you graduates, and to each of us who are far removed from graduation: remember this day, savor it, enjoy the excitement, taste the air, feel the warmth of the sun on your face - the future begins now, for all of us.  Thanks be to God.

Last Monday marked the unofficial start of summer.  While the official day is still some three weeks away, the unofficial day is probably the more important date, anyway. I love summer.  Many, many of my most precious memories are summer memories.  While part of this is because I grew up in a state where winter lasted about 8 months, the weather isn't the deciding factor in my summer memories.   For me, summer was always about freedom, about adventure, about getting out of the same old school year routine and trying on something different.  Summer was about meeting new people and reconnecting with old friends.  Summer was that time when people seemed a little more relaxed and a little more happy.  It was a time when my imagination could run a little wilder, because there were less constraints on my time and my activities.  Summer was about camp and baseball and grilled hamburgers and seeing my cousins.  It was, in short, about having fun.

As an adult, I was able to keep that feeling for awhile because I worked in higher education, which allowed for a summer break, just like when I was a kid.  Now, however, as a pastor of a church, the "natural" slow down of the summer is much less noticeable, if at all.  The church goes on in the summer, as it should.  There are still worship services to plan and celebrate.  There are still people to visit.  There are still service projects to undertake.  There are still Sunday school lessons to write.  I'd be lying if I said that I don't think about that.  I do.  I miss the freedom of my "kid summer".  So what's the answer?

As summer begins, I think it is important that we work to not lose the fun of summers past.  As a church, as individuals, now more than ever, we need to take the time to slow down, just a little bit, and savor the sweet days of summer.  We need to spend some time just relaxing with our family.  We need to find time for ice cream and baseball and hamburgers and fun.  Invite a friend over for an evening.  Go to the park. Drive into the mountains.  Break the routine.

Do you need a jumpstart on how to get into the summertime spirit?  Then simply close your eyes and envision the following:  You are 10  years old and the school bell has just rung releasing school for the last day of the school year.  Can you feel the exhilaration of that moment?  Can you feel the anticipation of all the great and fantastic things you will do over your summer vacation?  Can you feel the relief at being freed from your bondage in school?  Can you envision the possibilities?  Good.  Because if you can hold on to the anticipation and excitement of that 10 year old child, you can hold on to summer, no matter how old you are.

Every day I pick up the newspaper,  or overhear a conversation, or see something on the news that laments the state of teenagerdom (is that a word?) in America today.  Sometimes I chuckle, because this has gone on for generations, I am sure.  Just as my parents generation didn't understand my generation as teenagers, neither did their parents or their grandparents, and on and on.  But still, the onslaught continues: our teens are in trouble, we are in trouble if we expect them to take over soon; teens are running amok, on and on and on.  We perceive enough validity in these statements that we become somewhat fearful.   We want to make sure our teens have everything they need to prepare themselves for the world, but it is a scary world, and they are being touched by it more and more every day.  And we are scared for our teens.

This last Sunday I witnessed something that I wish I could have shared with all those who look on teens with a jaded eye.   At Brookhaven Christian Church, the youth presented the worship service, from start to finish.  They asked if they could do it in the fellowship hall with all the audio visual capabilities so that they could put their stamp on it.  They planned the theme, the message, the music, the prayers, the communion.  They picked video clips to illustrate points and led the congregation in joyous singing.  They invited us all to reflect on our choices and to leave our bad choices at the cross.  They reminded us that God loves us, in all our imperfection.  They helped us understand that all we have to do is repent and turn to God, and we will be welcomed with open arms.  They made us feel good about standing up and raising our voices to the rafters in song.  They allowed us to worship.  And oh, yes: in the midst of the thumping drums and the driving guitars and the smiles on their faces, they reminded us that there is always hope.  And they made it clear that the rumors of "a lost generation" of teenagers are greatly exaggerated. 

Thank you, Brookhaven Youth. Sometimes we need reminding.

My office window looks out toward Oglethorpe University, and for the last couple of weeks there have been day camps of some sort taking place there.  Last week it was Cub Scouts, and I think that this week it might be a fine arts or music camp given the number of kids I see walking around with instrument cases.  But a large part of each day is spent running here and there and playing games on the lawn between the buildings.  I can't see everything that goes on but I have a clear view of non-stop motion that seems to go on all day long!  In the middle of the afternoon, I can see the cars come to pick up the campers.  One by one, in pairs, and in larger groups, I see the kids excitedly telling their drivers about their day.  I obviously can't hear the words but the air is punctuated with swinging arms and little leaps in the air.  As I sat and watched this unfold this afternoon a thought struck me:  this is the essence of pure joy.

Joy.  It's not a word we use a lot.  It's not something we act out much.  But there it is, a perfectly good word describing the most wonderful of all feelings.  Joy.

When was the last time you felt pure joy?  When was the last time you acted it out?  How long has it been since you came home and described your day and couldn't help  but jump up and down and throw your arms around excitedly?

What?  You never do that?  Well, neither do I.  So what's holding us back?

This month our theme at Brookhaven is concentrating on the life of the Apostle Paul.  As I prepared for sermons and Sunday school classes, I was reminded that before his conversion Paul (then called Saul) was a particularly joyless person.  Oh, he was a good Hebrew.  He was a devout and learned man.  He believed in the traditions of his ancestors, and held Hebrew law to be the highest authority on earth.  He also believed that the followers of Jesus were a threat to Israel's existence and so undertook to exterminate them. But I'm not sure that he truly felt God's presence.  Did he understand joy?  Probably not until after his conversion.  Even then we have a view of Paul as a little bit crotchety, a little bit full of himself.  But we do begin to see glimpses of his embracing joy.  His unbridled enthusiasm for the churches he was in contact with.  His example of singing hymns even while in the darkest of prisons.  I don't know if he ever jumped up and down and swung his arms around to make a point, but he might have.

When I reflect on my own faith journey, I wonder if I have conveyed the joy that I have experienced.  The joy of discerning God's call on my life.  The joy of dedicating a baby to God's glory.  The joy of participating in the Baptism of a new believer.  The joy that comes from being part of a community that seeks to be all that God would have us be.  The joy that comes from knowing the weight of God's grace.  Joy.  Still, I don't jump up and down often enough, nor do I run up and down the halls loudly proclaiming my profound gratitude for God's love.  Watching those kids across the way, however, makes me think it might be a good idea.  So, if you see me jumping and shouting and laughing, feel free to join in: it's just the joy talking.

Have you ever watched a 5 year old dance the Mexican Hat Dance?  It is a joy to behold!  They do their best to keep up with the right arm and leg movements, they work hard to move in the right direction when they are supposed to, with great determination they move around the circle, and try to get their hand claps in just the right sequence.  Of course, they don't get any of it just right, but who cares?  They certainly don't.  They simply beam with pride and keep moving to the beat of the music.

That is just one of the many great memories that I take with us from our Vacation Bible School this past week. With great food, great fellowship, wonderful lessons and programs, fun games and God's presence, more than 90 people gathered each night at BCC to learn and celebrate.  We are blessed here at Brookhaven to have such talented, committed leaders and volunteers.  Headed up by Debbie Kinney and Rev. Jennifer Heinz, the Christian Education ministry and lots and lots of volunteers made it look like this is something that happens every week!  Well, in a way, it does.  While Vacation Bible School is certainly an extravaganza, Christian Education ministries both here at BCC and elsewhere seek each week to introduce our children to God's grace and love, in a way that will excite them and lead them further down the road that is their own individual faith journeys.  It is not an easy task, but it is invaluable to the strength of the church, and to our call to make disciples of all we meet.  To all those who find their ministry in teaching our kids, we give you our thanks and our admiration.  You rock

Near the end of the last night of VBS, one mother came up to tell me how much each of her four kids had enjoyed the experience. "Today, " she said, "my oldest came up to me and said, `is it time to go yet?'  I replied, `It's 8:30 in the morning!  We don't go until dinner time!'   He walked away crestfallen."   Ah, if we could get that sort of reaction to everything that goes on in the church!

Greetings on this day that seems like a Monday, but is not.(yea!)

I hope everyone had a great day yesterday, July 4^th.  It is one of my favorite holidays of the year, mainly because of all the activities that have grown up around it.  Picnics with friends and family, parades, fireworks, bands playing Sousa music (this is really big for an old tuba/sousaphone player!).  It is a uniquely American celebration, and it is a great summer celebration.  All those things together make for a great day.  It also is impressive because of the fervor with which we celebrate it.  It may not be a religious holiday, but it is a treasured day.  It is a day when reflect just how fortunate we are to live in this wonderful country.   It is a day when we can honor those who fought to make it a reality, and those who have put their lives on the line to continue that reality.  It is a day when we can't help but be thankful.

Carol and I went with friends to the Atlanta parade yesterday.  It was hot, the streets were crammed with people, but still there was nothing but cheers and laughter to be heard as the different floats, bands, celebrities and other participants rolled by.  The biggest cheers, by far, were reserved for the representatives of our armed forces, especially the representatives of Georgia's reserve units that have been called on to serve in Afghanistan and Iraq.  As I sat on the curb, and the soldiers marched by, they were met with shouts of "thank you" from children and adults alike.  And then, representatives of politicians came by, trying to hand out stickers for people to wear.  As far as I could tell, there were hardly any takers.  And it dawned on me, this is not a day for partisan politics; this is a day for Americans.  This is not a day to make your case for a particular point of view or to advocate a particular policy.  No, this is a day to celebrate that while we may have differences, we still can celebrate together a momentous occasion.

It got me thinking about the church of Jesus Christ.  We don't always see eye to eye.  Sometimes we can have some knock down, drag out fights over doctrine and theology.  But when it comes down to what we have in common, there is great reason to celebrate.  And come Sunday morning all over the world, that celebration takes the form of heartfelt worship of our God.  In our differences and with our disagreements, we still can hold up one thing that we honor: we are brothers and sisters in Christ, and that is enough to hold us together.

Unfortunately, July 5^th comes and too often we return to the partisan stances that seem to fuel our political system these days.  Too often, Monday comes, and the worship of our common God is set aside as we once again decide how we are different.  Maybe we as American Christians can teach our brothers and sisters in both our country and our churches something important: we have too much at stake to allow our minor disagreements to throw us off track. Maybe we ought to concentrate on working to unite in our sanctuaries, as well as our state houses.  It might lead us closer to every day being Sunday, every day being the 4^th of July, than we could dare to imagine.

Greetings on this wonderful summer day!

Over the course of the last couple of years, many of you have commiserated with me about the poor state of affairs regarding baseball in the city of my birth, Detroit.  In particular, the state of the Detroit Tigers, which for the last dozen or so years has been miserable, not to put too fine a point on it.  Two seasons ago they came oh-so-close to setting the major league record for losses in a season when they racked up 119 losses.  Only a 4 game winning streak at the end of the season saved them from the history books. Last year they swooned in the second half of what had been, up to that point, a respectable year.  For far too long, the Tigers have found a way to disappoint their fans.

I am an unabashed Detroit Tigers fan.  I have been since I can remember.  Even though the recent history has not been great, the past is filled with wonderful memories. Pictures of Hank Aguirre, Rocky Colavito, Al Kaline and Dick McAuliffe adorned the walls of the room that my brother and I shared.  I remember my first game when I was about 5 or 6 and watching Norm Cash hit a massive homerun against the Yankees.  I was at the game when the Tigers clinched the American League pennant in 1968, on the way to winning the World Series.  I made several trips from my home in Kentucky to go to the ballpark to see the Tigers play in the summer of 1984, when they won 30 of their first 35 games and cruised to another World Series victory.  In the past several years, I have still followed them, still rooted hard, still believed that "next year" was going to be "the year."  And suddenly, the Tigers of 2006 find themselves on top of the baseball world: 59 - 29 at the All Star break, the best record in baseball, 2 games ahead of the World Champion White Sox, showing no "give up" and no slowing down.  And then, a terrifying thought hits us Tiger fans, "Will they blow it?"

Now what kind of attitude is that, I ask you?  Why should I be worried?  Just sit back and enjoy the games, keep rooting, keep supporting, keep believing.  Does it matter to me if they win it or not?  Not really.  They will be my team no matter what.  But there it is at the back of my mind.  "How are they going to blow it?  Surely they can't keep playing this well?"

I don't like them being so good, so fast.  It scares me that when they return to normal, it's going to hurt.bad.  But they are playing so well!  I want to believe they are going all the way!  I've waited long enough for "next year!"  This has to be the year!  I must admit I would be more comfortable if they were playing just well enough, not so spectacularly well.  Because when they play so well, I fear being lulled into a false sense of confidence, an unwarranted sense of bravado.  Such as this:  in today's Detroit Free Press on-line edition was a story of the Major League All Star Game held in Pittsburgh.  Three Tigers made the team, all played and acquitted themselves well enough.  There was the story about them, and stories about the honoring of Roberto Clemente, and the other little human interest stories.  This year, for the third or fourth year in a row, the league that wins the All Star game secures home field advantage for their league champion in the World Series.  This year, the American league team won, thus assuring that the American League champion will open the World Series at home.  Are you with me?  Do you see where this is going?

This morning's Detroit Free Press headline about the outcome of the All Star Game was "Tigers to open Series at home"   What!?!  Are you crazy?  Playing with fire by saying something like that out loud?  Don't you know that the baseball gods will strike us down if we start to get too far ahead of ourselves?  They haven't won anything yet, let alone made it the World Series!  And in a heartbeat, I am turned from confident front runner to worried pretender.

Now, you may be asking yourself, "what does this have to do with faith, or the church, or spiritual matters?"  Well, I could come up with equate it with something that speaks to our human condition:  how we recognize that we are touched by God's grace, but still concerned that we will never be worthy of God's mercy.  I could turn it into a treatise on hope and talk about how our spiritual life is one based on hope, but when we take the promise of hope for granted, our spiritual life suffers.

Nahhhh. I wrote this because my team is the best in baseball, and I wanted you to know about it.  And yes, I will revel in their current situation; I will hope against hope that they can hang on to win; and I will even sing a little song under my breath, an old song that was popular in Detroit when I was a boy,

We're all behind our baseball team,
Go Get `Em Tigers! 
World Series bound and pickin' up steam,
Go Get `Em Tigers! 
There'll be joy in Tiger Town, we'll sing you songs,
When the Bengals bring the pennant home where it belongs.
We're all behind our baseball team,
Go Get `Em Detroit Tigers!
Go Get `Em Tigers!

And if that ain't the essence of faith, I don't know what is.

(Oh my, I may have pushed it too far.)

Yesterday I went to a funeral.  A funeral for a 30 year old man whose whole life seemed in front of him, who seemed in the best of health, yet suddenly, inexplicably, died in his sleep.  This young man was Rob Huguely,  grandson of Brookhaven Christian Church's Jim Knuckles. In a paradox that I have witnessed before, it was the saddest of days, yet the service contained a surprisingly celebratory feeling.  As the service unfolded I found myself amazed at that feeling.  This was a horrible loss.  This was not someone who was 95 and had lived a full life.  This was someone who hadn't really begun!  But he was a young man of faith, raised by a family guided by their faith, surrounded by a community of faith that had watched him grow.  Of course it was celebratory.  In the midst of grief, God offers us the bright beacon of hope that can never be extinguished.  Beautiful music was sung, Rob's parents spoke, prayers were said, and three of Rob's closest friends spoke. 

Rob's friends also bore witness to that paradox of grief and celebration.  Each in his own way, wracked with pain, proclaimed their thankfulness that Rob had been in there lives.  Each in his own way, expressed a hope that is born out of tragedy.  Each in his own way sought to encourage us all to live in such a way that would allow Rob's memory to live.  These three young men were very impressive.  They were not used to public speaking.  At times they had to stop to catch a breath, to fight back tears, to forge ahead.  Their words were not particularly poetic or dramatic.  Just messages of love in honor of a fallen friend.

The third speaker was having trouble putting his thoughts together at one point, and then paused, and gave us all one of the most eloquent charges we would ever receive.  After the pause to check his emotions, he straightened up and spoke to us very directly:  "Rob knew what it was like to be in pain.  Because of that, Rob recognized when others were in pain.  And when he recognized that, he did whatever he could to help ease that pain, to make people feel better, to make them smile.  Today, we are in pain.  I can see it on everyone's face here.  I would challenge each of us to honor Rob by following his lead: when we see someone in pain, let's do what we can to make them feel better, to make them smile.  It helps when someone shows they care."

Simple words spoken out of a life changing sense of loss.  Words I am grateful to have heard.  And words that I will try to live up to.   For Rob.

There is nothing like a heat wave to help us to understand that we are not in control!

Last week, Carol and I took a much needed break to our cottage in Munoscong located at the eastern tip of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, some 1000 miles north of here.  (You know about the U.P., right?  How God created the heavens and the earth, and learning from his mistakes created the Upper Peninsula of Michigan?)  We went in part, for our annual family reunion, where some 50 folks from the Conely clan gather each summer. Anyway, one of the things that I was looking forward to was the fact that it rarely gets above 83 or 84 degrees, and even when it does, the nights are nice and cool - perfect sleeping weather.  But not this year.  The temperatures were in the upper 80's and low 90's and it didn't cool down like it "should" at night!  The days were fine, but the evenings and nights were a little sticky.  So, we did what anyone would do: we gathered up fans from different people houses and set them all up on one enclosed porch and blew them while we played cards, watched the Tigers, or just sat around and chatted.  Had we gone to our different houses, we never would have been as cool, or had as much fun.

This week in Atlanta is even worse, and I would encourage you to look out for each other.  Do you know a friend who needs a fan?  Do you have elderly neighbors who might have trouble in such heat?  Do you know of a church office where the air conditioning just doesn't seem to get the air cool enough?  (Okay, scratch that last one: we're doing fine!)  In all seriousness, this kind of weather is dangerous to lots of people, so please be careful.  And think about who you might call to make sure they are alright.  Help them get what they need, make sure they are safe.  Because that's what we do.  And it's more fun to ride out a heat wave with friends than it is alone!

I am always a little in awe of election day.  When I worked in state and local government, I knew that each election had the chance to change my immediate situation, and so I followed them very carefully.  As a professor of Political Science, I paid close attention for the purposes of study and teaching. I was drawn to elections and the people who ran for election by a profound respect for those willing to step up and dedicate their life to public service by running for office.

Over the last few years, I have not paid nearly as much attention to elections.  I try to stay informed and I show up to vote, but these days, I do not get nearly as caught up as I once did.  In some way, I simply can't wait to get them over with!  Why?  Have the people running for office changed?  Have the motives changed?  Have the campaigns changed?  I can't say for sure about the candidates or their motives, but I can unequivocally say that the campaigns have changed.  More and more, instead of reading and hearing about what the candidate stands for, I hear about what their opponents do not stand for.  Rather than trumpeting what they will do to advance the interests of our society, I hear candidates proclaim how the other candidates will harm society.  Rather than feeling drawn to a positive image of leadership, I find myself having to move away from the negative image of blame finding.  And I don't like it.

Last night I heard a commentator dismissing the kinds of concerns that I have about the negativity that seems to have overtaken our electoral process.  He said it was  "only rhetoric" and that "people are smart enough to sort it all out." I have no quarrel with the intelligence of the electorate, but I do not believe it is just "rhetoric."  

Like many of you, I was taught that if you can't say something good, don't say anything at all.  And while that seems trite, there is great wisdom in those words.  To be positive is to build up.  To be negative is to tear down.  Can a society build on the rubble of this negativity strewn about?  There is also Biblical wisdom in that simple saying: in the gospel of Matthew, Jesus is quoted as saying, "I tell you, on the day of judgment you have to give an account of every careless word you utter; for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned."  (12:36-37)

Now, I may be accused of  "prooftexting" the scripture to make my point, but even if some don't believe that these verses really apply to our political campaigns, they are food for thought nonetheless.  People who don't know us well will judge us by what comes out of our mouths.  Children who look to us as role models hear every word we utter.  Do our words match our beliefs?  Do our words build up, or tear down?  I don't know about you, but after going through the latest round of primary elections, I am asking that of the people who want to represent us in city hall, in the statehouse, and in Washington. And I am asking it of myself, too.

I once had a teaching colleague who specialized in "leadership studies".  There were people in our department who believed that this sort of "pseudo-scientific" area of study and used the lack of clearly identifiable and quantifiable "predictors of leadership success" as proof that they were right.  As it sometimes happens, I firmly believe that both are right.  It may in fact be "pseudo-science", but what's the problem with that?  Unless you are trying to "prove" your claims scientifically, there is much utility to looking at leadership.  The more we pay attention to good leaders, the more we may be able to understand what qualities are good for what type of situations.  When is the "dictator" style a good thing?  When is the "conciliator" a good thing?  When is the "representative leader" most successful?  When is the "delegate leader" the one to follow?  All in all, I find this a fascinating avenue of study, even if we can't "prove" that someone with certain characteristics will be a great leader.

When it comes right down to it, it seems to me that leadership is one of those "I know it when I see it" kinds of things.  We recognize leadership qualities, even if we can't put our finger on exactly what they are.  But the fact is that all organizations need good leadership, and the church is no exception.  What kinds of qualities does it take to be a good leader of a church?  An elder? A deacon? A trustee?  These are all leadership positions, even as each requires slightly different skills and abilities.  And in the church, we are always on the lookout for good leaders.

I bring this up because next week we at BCC are going to start soliciting your nominations for leadership positions in 2007.  Throughout it's history, BCC has been blessed by some wonderful leaders, many still active in the congregation today.  And the reason is, that the members are the ones who nominate and elect the leaders.  Before you get the nomination form in hand, I want you to spend some time thinking about who you see in our congregation has what it takes to fill one of our different positions.  Write those names down.  Lift them up in prayer. Go back to the list again.  Add or subtract names as you feel you should.  Spend some time really thinking about who can help lead us forward.  Then, next week, when the nominating forms become available (first on line, and then in the Sunday bulletins for three weeks) fill them out and return them to the church.  If each of us took the time to really pray and deliberate about where we want the church to go, and who we think can help lead us there, we truly will achieve our potential as Christ's witness to Atlanta!  So start thinking and praying!

I have come to the realization that the church is at its best, when someone is at their lowest.

It has been reinforced again this week when I see what happens in the church when one of our own has a death in the family.  The church steps up, and from every corner comes the same question, "What can I do to help?"  Food is gathered, phone calls are made, arrangements are made to be at the memorial service to help with greeting visitors and helping the family in their grief.  A group puts together a luncheon for the family so that they can relax and unwind after the service, visiting with out of town friends and relatives.  It is a wonderful sight to behold.

It has also been reinforced for me in remembering the devastation of Hurricane Katrina one year ago.  Here at Brookhaven Christian Church, we hooked up with a consortium of churches in the area that were working together to provide food, shelter and other assistance for folks who had fled to Atlanta from New Orleans and other places along the Gulf coast.  This congregation, along with hundreds of others, swelled the coffers of "Week of Compassion", the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) emergency relief organization.  We were asked if we might participate with local churches to sponsor a family by providing rent for 3 months.  The word went out and within 48 hours, we had pledges of support large enough to help out a family with rent for SIX months and food and utilities for 3 months! Beds, linens, pots, pans, utensils, tv's, vcr's, radios, furniture for living room and kitchen were all donated, helping the family to feel welcomed. One year later, our adopted family, The McMurtry's are now happily settled in Atlanta.  The parents are working, and within the last few months, Mrs. McMurtry's mother came to Atlanta and now resides in a senior complex near their home.

But it is not just the big public ways that are important.  When I see a member who is down and struggling, and then I see someone in the congregation come up and give a big hug, I know it works in the small, private ways. It is not a bout what is said or what is given.  Most of the time, it's just about the presence of someone who cares. And so, speaking for those of us who have felt the power of the presence of the members of  Christ's church, I say, "Thank you for your prayers, your presence and your love.  They are cherished more than you know."

The scene unfolded while I sat in traffic on Peachtree Rd.  A construction truck was blocking traffic and I found myself sitting for several moments right in front of a covered MARTA stop.  Inside the stop was an elderly man, and a mother with a young child, maybe 3 years old.  The old man sat very straightbacked, in a very dignified manner.  His clothes were a bit on the worn side, but you could tell he had taken great care in making sure they were clean and neat.  His hair was white and neatly combed.  He sat with his hands in his lap, holding a well loved hat, and staring straight ahead.

The child was squirming and popping up and down and trying his best to get the old man's attention.  He had a plastic bag full of snacks: crackers or cereal or something like that.  He would walk over to the man and look up at him, then run back to his mother.  With each succeeding pass at the man, I could see that the man was starting to smile slightly, head straight ahead, but trying to sneak a glance out of the corner of his eyes.  The boy kept coming closer and closer.  And then, when he came right up to the man, the man jumped in his seat, and the boy squealed and ran back to his mother.  Having made the contact, he came back 3 or 4 times, and each time the man jumped and smiled and the boy squealed and ran back to his mother.  The last time, before the man could jump, the little boy held up his baggie of snacks and offered some to the man.  The man smiled, reached into the bag, pulled out a couple of pieces and ate, making "mmmm good" faces and rubbing his stomach.  The boy finally climbed up on the bench next to the man and they sat and ate.  And traffic finally moved.

I don't know what happened after I left.  I don't know why it affected me so.  But it did.  So often we teach our children, with good reason, not to talk to strangers, but what would this little boy have missed if he had followed that advice?  And what would the old man have missed?  I'm not advocating we teach our children to step outside the bounds of good advice and engage all the strangers they meet, but maybe we adults have something to learn by following the little boys example:  it doesn't cost us anything to smile at each other, share a laugh, maybe even share what we have.  I'm not sure, but I think there's a sermon in there somewhere.

Someone once said, "The only constant in life is change."  They were right.

I have not always been someone who embraced change well, and I am not alone in this.  We spend a lot of our lives trying to get to a place where we "have made it" and so can sit back and relax, knowing how things will play out without any big surprises.  But the fact is, that place of constancy is an illusion.  Things are always changing, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.  The trick, I have learned, is not to fear change.  And even more than not fearing the change, we must learn to embrace the change - no matter how unexpected or uncontrollable - and look for the opportunity in the change, not cower from the problem of the change.

Here at Brookhaven Christian Church we have seen lots of change in the last year or so.  Some of it has been wonderful:  new families and friends joining our fellowship; new life in the form of newborn babies, and more about to come onto the scene; new chances to serve God. If we are to be honest, however, a lot of the change in the last year or so was not welcome change.  It has been in the form of much loved members and friends moving away, or worse, passing away.  Many of our members have experienced loss and hardship as members of their extended family have died or have been dealing with illness.  Beyond the personal changes we have faced are the impersonal changes: workplace changes, economic issues leading to job insecurity and general nervousness about the state of the world.  And, if we don't deal with the change effectively, the possibility exists that we will be overcome, or even paralyzed, unable to move.  When that happens to us individually, it also threatens to effect us collectively in the church.

But faced with this kind of change, how can we move forward?  How are we to replace those beloved members we have lost?  The answer to these two questions are linked.  To answer the second, first: we cannot replace those beloved members.  To answer the first question: we move forward by doing our best to honor those who laid the groundwork for where we are today, those who were our mentors and our friends, those who did their part to help us be who we are today.  We must acknowledge than when we lose someone near and dear to us, whether it be in the church or in our personal lives,  we honor them best by rolling up our sleeves and continuing on as they would have continued on.  That may mean figuring out how to do things differently than before, or it may mean finding a way to step in and continue on what has been done in the past.

Change is not always easy.  But we will all face change: in our personal lives, in our church, in the church at large.  The trick is to not be overwhelmed by the problem, but to be energized by the opportunity in front of us. Change is all around us.  Rather than be victims of change, let's work hard to see how we can embrace change, and in that embrace, serve God and God's people even better than before.

This morning I attended the annual "Call to Action" Breakfast sponsored by the Interfaith Children's Movement of Metropolitan Atlanta.  It was at least the third of these events I have been to, and I always come away impressed with those who have dedicated their lives to those most helpless people in our society: our children.  Each year, a special speaker is invited, and each year I come away learning something that I didn't know before.  Sometimes it has been the overwhelming statistics that show just how much work there is to be done if we are to truly protect our children.  Sometimes it has been a new program that I have learned about.  Sometimes it has been an understanding of what I might be able to do as an individual to help a solution come about.  Today it was a little bit of all three, but what struck me the hardest was something that I already knew, but still sometimes I fail to recognize.  I learned, again, that how I present myself, and how I interact with folks can have a big impact.  And nowhere is this more true than in my interactions with children.  When I conduct myself positively, they will react positively.  When I am an example of integrity, they model that example.  When I let them know how joyful my faith makes me, they learn to share that joy.  Likewise, when I am negative, or lacking in integrity, or walk around moping all the time, they will see that.

The speaker this morning was a woman named Linda Kavelin Popov, one of the founders of "The Virtues Project".  The Virtues Project was started by a group looking at the great spiritual teachings from many, many cultures.  What they found was that there was an incredible mount of overlap in the practical teachings of different cultures, and that the common thread that ran through them all was a reliance on several "virtues" that serve as the "glue" of civilized society.  Love, justice, kindness, joy, and peace are some of the most obvious, but there are many more.  Among them: integrity, dignity, reverence, loyalty, gratitude, gentleness, service.  They came up with a list of some 90 virtues and set out to build a curriculum that incorporated these virtues into lessons for children. (For a complete list of the virtues presented by the Virtues Project go to www.paceofgrace.net and click on "The Virtues")  The goal?  That we who serve as models for children, will be models of the virtues that edify us, that build us up as people.  That we use the positive language of the virtues in all we do, and that we understand that this is not something that we need to teach to children.  Rather, this is something we need to enable in children.  That was the idea that hit me hard this year.  That our children innately will live the virtues, if we help draw it out.  Children are inherently good; it takes the world to change that.   And that got me to thinking:  it's not just true for our children; it's true for adults, too.  When we find ourselves ignoring those important virtues, or worse, acting in a way that is diametrically opposed to the vitures, we need to stop and ask ourselves: how did that happen? 

We know what is right.  Our faith journey, our relationship with God, our relationships in the church all point in the same direction.  Yet, too often, we let the pressures of the world overwhelm us and find ourselves reacting negatively, skeptically, nervously.  Is that what our faith teaches us?  Where is the joy that comes from a relationship with Jesus Christ?  Why do we not model the comfort and assurance that God gives us?  Why are we so angry, nervous, scared?  And is that the face we want to present to the world? I think the leaders of the Virtues Project are on to something:  How we present ourselves to the world will have an impact on those who are watching us. 

But, we knew that , didn't we?

There are days when I think the world has gone crazy.  Yesterday was one of those days.

There was the report of the community activist in South Atlanta, a mentor to many, a friend to everyone he met, murdered as his car was hijacked.  Then the report that his carjackers were killed in a hail of gunfire as they fired on p