Restricting literacy by choice. . .

When I moved to Michigan I left behind an amazing group of people who were working to bring library service to the entire county from which I moved. The place of my birth, elementary and high school years, DeKalb County, Indiana has a very special place in my heart. My family continues to live there, and when we talk about "going home," it is the place to which we are referring.

Shortly before I relocated to Lansing, I and a group of literacy advocates met with the County Commissioners in an effort to persuade them to extend library service to every township in the county. Now, for the Frankly Speaking readers that take their library cards for granted, an explanation is necessary. Indiana is one of a handful of states that does not provide taxpayer supported library services for all of it's citizens. 93% of Hoosiers have a tax-payer funded library card. 7% do not, and must purchase an annual subscription. While not a problem for some, many who live in a "unserved" area cannot afford a library card and thus are forced to do without.

At the aforementioned meeting we presented our case. The commissioners dismissed our request forthwith. Frankly, it appeared to many of us who were present that they went into the standing-room only meeting with their minds already made up. Sadly, DeKalb County - the county where I grew up, the county where I still own property and continue to pay property taxes - remains one of the relatively few underserved counties in the United States.

How did we respond? We licked our wounds and moved on. At Butler Public Library, a dedicated staff and board of directors are building a new library - with no tax dollars! The other libraries in the county continue to expand services and offer programming to all citizens regardless of their ability or inability to access materials that can be checked out and taken home.

Today I was blessed to return the Butler Public Library for a "topping off" ceremony. The last bit of structural steel is about to be placed at the new library and soon the structure will be buttoned up for winter so interior work can begin.

While there I inquired about the recent elections and how they might affect library service. I learned that County Councilman Larry Moughler had an interesting quote in The Evening Star. I respect Larry Moughler. He is a good Christian man. He has worked hard his whole life, raised four good sons, and served his country in the United States Marine Corps. His grandkids are friends with my oldest two children. What is more, as a Gideon, he promotes Bible distribution throughout the world. He is a great guy, really, that I'm sure I would agree with on most topics. But, if he is quoted correctly in this particular article, I couldn't disagree more.

When asked his position on bringing county-wide library service to DeKalb County, Larry said,

"I don't use the library service . . . I know to some people it's very important. To me, it wouldn't be worth it . . . I'm not a reader, I guess, so I wouldn't appreciate that."

For the life of me, I just cannot understand that mindset. It is akin to me saying, "I don't use centrally dispatched 911 service . . . that may be important to some people, but I don't like to talk on the phone and don't expect an emergency, so I guess I wouldn't appreciate that." These same folks say, "I don't have kids in school, so why should I pay a school tax?"

Some services, while not universally used, are necessary because they collectively raise the quality of life and intellectual tide of a community. Library service is one such service. I cannot imagine a world where a quality library of wide-ranging books, periodicals, and media from authors and artists with whom I agree and disagree are not available to anyone who wants them. I've read about such places. George Orwell wrote about one in his book, 1984.

As I was pondering my frustration with the "I'm-not-personally-using-the-library-so-I'm-not-going-to-support-it" mindset, I spoke with a ministry colleague on the phone who told me of a quote he read some time ago:

"Those that don't read are no better off than those that can't."

My fear is this: the former - those who do not read and choose to not support libraries, the very organizations that promote reading - are ensuring a greater increasing supply of the latter.

For you, Dad and Mom . . .

Tina and Marty, were afraid you might have trouble opening the email, pop, so here is this picture for you. For those of you who don't know them . . . this is my sister, her husband, and my two nieces, Heather and Laura, outside their home in Guinea, West Africa.

The part that impressed me . . .

I thought President-Elect Obama's victory speech last night was amazing. While there were a couple of points on which I disagree - his affirmation of Roosevelt's New Deal, for example - I nevertheless thought it humble, genteel, and even inspiring. The portion of his speech that most moved me was when he said,

Let's remember that it was a man from this state who first carried the banner of the Republican Party to the White House, a party founded on the values of self-reliance and individual liberty and national unity.

Those are values that we all share. And while the Democratic Party has won a great victory tonight, we do so with a measure of humility and determination to heal the divides that have held back our progress.

As Lincoln said to a nation far more divided than ours, we are not enemies but friends. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection.

And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices. I need your help. And I will be your president, too.

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand.

To those -- to those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope.

That's the true genius of America: that America can change. Our union can be perfected. What we've already achieved gives us hope for what we can and must achieve tomorrow.

I am convinced that our 44th President is a good man, and there is no doubt that Obama is a great orator who has the makings of the best speech giving Commander in Chief of my lifetime. For my part, I will be praying that he is more than merely a good orator but, given that governing is so much more than making fine speeches, a good President, too.

Thoughts?

Witnessed history tonight. I agree with Bill Bennett who said he would be praying for President Obama. Bennett, he related was a great candidate who he now hoped would be a great President. Your thoughts?

Here's my story. What is yours?

Stopped by Sawdon School this morning on the way to work to cast my ballot. When I arrived, there was ample parking and no line. I made my way to precinct four. Sawdon houses four polling places and none looked overwhelmed. I showed my ID, signed a card testifying to my residence, and received my ballot. There were no people in line ahead of me. I filled out my ballot, placed it in the machine (I was the 127th person voting on that machine), got my sticker and left.

The whole effort took less than five minutes.

How about you? What is your November 4th story?

Lowering my ears

Finally got a haircut tonight at Great Clips in the Meijer store next door. The hair looks good. She even trimmed my bushy eyebrows and chopped the thatch out of my ears (Fred). Too bad they couldn't do anything with the rest of my melon . . .

Doc Doty

I saw a picture of Doc Doty on Eric's Facebook page the other night. It reminded me of a letter that Doc sent me over ten years ago. I had just arrived at the Butler Church of Christ as their new preacher. Just months prior, the church had undergone a difficult time. As I began my ministry there, I sent letters to dozens of Christian leaders. I asked Bible college presidents to pray. I sent a letter to Charles Stanley, even. (He responded personally that he would be praying for us.)

I saved all these letters. My most cherished is from Doc. It means even more to me now that I am preaching at Doc's "home church." I can't imagine what it must have been like for Ron to look out from the pulpit and see Doc sitting among the faithful. What a privilege. Here is what Doc wrote to me:

Dear Frank,

I have kept letter of last month on my desk here at GLCC . . and it has reminded me to pray again and again in your behalf.

Without knowing the specific situation and/or problems at Butler I have taken your name to the Lord, sincerely asking that you might find release from pressure / or tight situations . . or any other oppressive obstacle (or obstacles) confronting you.

It will be a pleasure and a relief whenn you are able to inform me that the matter of concern(s) [is resolved] . . and that you are again at peace in heart and soul.

Sincerely in Christ,

Doc Doty

I don't know whether or not they read blogs in Heaven, but I do know that "we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses." Among that cloud, looking down upon us, is Dr. Brant Lee Doty. Doc, I still covet your prayers. Thanks for standing beside me.

Reflection on SERVE Day

I just watched the late news on WILX. They ran a story about our SERVE day that begin with, "Well, it's not often that you find a pastor encouraging you to skip church. But that's just what Senior Minister Frank Weller of South Lansing Christian Church did. Today the church skipped their worship service in favor of community service."

Well, I did encourage people to skip our 10 AM service. But I also urged them to come back for a special 6 PM service. And they did - about 300 of them, in fact.

In short, today was amazing. There were 338 people that volunteered to serve. Instead of a worship service, we had service worship. Southies . . .

• . . . packed a semi-load of clothing for shipment to the Ukraine.
• . . . prepped a garden plot for spring planting as a community garden.
• . . . hosted a neighborhood carnival.
• . . . watched lots of little kids so their parents could participate in SERVE day.
  
• . . . decorated gift bags to be sent to Haiti (filled with food for hungry Haitians).
• . . . took dessert to Lansing Police department's North and South Precincts as well as the Detention unit and the 911 Dispatch center. We even had enough for two fire stations.
• . . . washed and packaged potatoes for distribution at a local assisted living apartment building.
• . . . painted playground lines at North Elementary school.
• . . . cleaned up Burchfield Park.
• . . . painted a jungle gym at Hawk Island Park.
• . . . sang and visited at the nursing home.
• . . . sorted food at the food bank.
• . . . cleaned the teeth of dozens of head-start kids.
• . . . packaged enough meals to feed 11,000 people for Kids Against Hunger.
• . . . built a porch and wheelchair ramp for a disabled man in Mason.
  

All told, there were over 1,000 "person hours" committed to serving today. Probably more.

For almost a year, our church has been challenged to Seek, Study and Serve God. Today, I sense that our folks really embraced the challenge to serve. I don't know, for sure, the lasting effects of today's efforts. I suspect, however, that our folks are more excited about serving than ever.

Not only did I see a lot of people acting like Jesus today. I think I also saw many of them become more like Him, too. What a day!

One more from Dave Shiflett

Just finished reading Exodus: Why Americans Are Fleeing Liberal Churches for Conservative Christianity by Dave Shiflett. (See previous post). Shiflett had one more quote I wanted to pass along. He interviewed Chuck Colson to get his take on the state of the Faith in America. Shiflett writes:

"The sixties were laudable in their efforts to bring social justice to society," Colson said. At the same time this was the period when Liberal churches did good things for many people. But they also became less spiritually relevant. "People want the real thing. They are not interested in a pale substitute, because it can never satisfy. It just doesn't answer the questions people have."

Today, he said, many churches that are presumed to be orthodox, at least compared with mainline churches, are making the same mistake. This is especially true in some of the large evangelical churches, which Colson said are the purveyors of "self-centered worship. You may get people to come to those churches, and you may have church growth. But you will not have church impact. The reason is that church becomes increasingly like the culture. People go in, see a skit, listen to some music, hear a soothing sermon, and think they've done their Christian duty. They are entering the exact precarious position the mainline found itself in in the sixties and seventies." As such these churches may eventually see their own pews empty. What churches should be doing, Colson said, is teaching believers that Christianity offers a sound and rational explanation of life and helping them to "see the world through God's eyes and govern their behavior accordingly."

This is particularly relevant on the eve of our church's largest service project ever. As we make an effort to serve the community we must not make the same mistake that mainline churches committed a generation ago. Service and theological liberalism are not necessarily tied to one another. We can serve while making sure that, in matters of doctrinal essentials, we have unity. And, we must do so.

The Weller "Bandos"

Every year the Grand Ledge School bands perform at the "Festival of Bands." The two middle school bands perform, and then the High School marching band files in the auditorium to the drumline's cadence. My son, Caleb, is the snare drum, second from the right. My daughter, Abby, is the flag in the balcony on the end. The locals call this event the "Park and Blow," because this is the one event where the marching band is not marching. Enjoy!

Preaching that is relevant . . .

I have been challenged by a book I am reading. Dave Shiflett, in his book Exodus, chronicles the mass exodus out of mainline denominations like the United Methodist, Presbyterian, and Disciples of Christ churches. He observes that congregants don't want to hear political pablum from their pulpits:

Most people don't go to church to learn the minister's opinions on whatever happens to be in the headlines. They can get similar opinions sitting on their sofas watching television, quite possibly presented by someone much better-looking.

Most people go to church to get something they cannot get elsewhere. The consuming public - people who already believe, or who are attempting to believe, or who want their children to believe - go to church to learn about the mysterious Truth on which the Christian religion is built. They want the Good News, not the minister's political views or intellectual coaching. The latter creates sprawling vacancies in the pews. Indeed, those empty pews can be considered the earthly reward for abandoning heaven, traditionally understood.

I agree with Shiflett, I think, (except, perhaps about the better-looking part). That is why I've steered clear of politics in preaching. I do wrestle, however, with the tension of preaching what is relevant to the times in which we find ourselves. The headlines often have moral and spiritual significance. A recent issue of City Pulse, Lansing's self proclaimed newspaper, "for the rest of us," recently carried a cover story promising to tell us "What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality."

Where the headlines are so clearly in opposition to the Scriptures as I, our church, and indeed two thousand years of orthodox Christianity understand them, I cannot and should not remain silent.

So where is the line between personal political opinion and scriptural absolutes?

Oh, it turns out Shiflett is a pretty good songwriter, too.

Our youth minister, Chad, is looking to sell his Jeep Wrangler. The funny thing is, he bought it just a couple months ago. When he made the purchase, he was puzzled. The Jeep was a four speed, but the knob on the gear shifter had a 5-speed pattern on it. His solution? Go to the junkyard and get a knob with a four-speed pattern. (I think we all have some OCD tendencies, actually).

Come to find out, it actually is a five-speed. The real problem was with the transmission.

Frankly, I do the same thing a lot of times. There is a problem, but rather than deal with it, I buy a different knob and slap it on. My effort at redefining normal doesn't change anything for the better, it doesn't fix anything, but it sure makes me feel better. So here's to you, Mr. put-a-new-knob-on-it man. As my old friend, Terry Ulm used to tell me, "When confronted with something uncomfortable . . . try not to think about it."

Hope for hurting pastors

I enjoyed an evening out last night with Tracy and two of our elders and their wives. We attended the PastorCare banquet in Grand Rapids. A ministry devoted to restoring wounded pastors and their families, PastorCare is meeting a significant need. Consider these statistics that were shared with us last night:

• 70% of pastors do not have someone they consider a closer friend.
• 50% feel unable to meet the needs of the job.
• 45% of pastors say that they've experienced depression or burnout to the extent that they needed to take a leave of absence from their ministry.
• The clergy has the second highest divorce rate among all professions.

According to the Ministering to Ministers Foundation:

• Over 1600 pastors in the United States are forced out of their positions each month.
• Nearly 1 in 4 pastors experience a forced termination at least once in their ministry.
• Only 54% of pastors go back into full-time church related positions.

I thank God for John Smith, the Executive Director of Pastorcare.

After leaving our church in Indiana, I experienced some extremely difficult emotions. We poured our life into the church for a decade, and it just wasn't easy to say goodbye. We knew God was calling us to South Lansing - that was clear. But that didn't make the grieving any easier. The feeling that I was leaving home, family, and the church I loved overwhelmed me. People I loved didn't know how to talk with me about our leaving, so much was left unsaid. Friendships were strained; my best friend and I didn't even say "goodbye." My approach: suck it up and deal with it. Nevertheless, on the advice of a fellow pastor, I called John and sat down with him. He was able to help me deal with my emotions and keep from growing bitter or angry.

I am a healthier preacher today because of John Smith and PastorCare.

October is "Clergy Appreciation Month." Make sure you drop your preacher a card and tell him how much his work means to you. And, if you're so inclined, consider making a donation to PastorCare in their honor.

Heartbreak

Me thinks that tractor's sexy . . .

Came across a cool website tonight that made me think of my childhood. I grew up on the seat of a tractor - several different ones actually. My grandfather had an old Ford tractor with a wide front end - an 8N, I think. It had a push button starter right next to the gear shifter. He used it to pull hay wagons and haul manure. It was a dandy.

Dad had an Allis Chalmers WD. I loved that tractor because it had a hand clutch that made it easier to drive. I could gently pull back on that clutch and start rolling without killing the motor. She had four levers on the steering column. Two were pull levers - one on the left that was the choke and one on the right to start the motor. Two others controlled the throttle and the hydraulic bucket on the front. Dad had every imaginable add-on for that tractor: front-end loader, cultivators, two-bottom plow and even a sub-soiler.

When I got older dad bought a Farmall Super-M and later a Farmall 400. Those both had road gears that made them fly - or at least it seemed that way to a fourteen-year-old.

My favorite tractor by far, though, was our green Oliver 1600. The steering wheel was adjustable - two ways, in fact. (Its pictured there in the corner.) You could swivel it upward and raise it so you could drive the tractor standing up. It also had big wide fenders. I would sit on them while dad cultivated corn and beans with the three-point mounted eight-row cultivator. Years later, when I missed the school bus one morning, I threw "Ollie" into sixth gear and drove it the three miles to school.

We have a green John Deere lawn tractor in the garage these days. I've left the farm, but the farm has stayed with me . . . and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Choosing Mickey over missions

This is a true story. It was relayed to me by my missionary sister earlier today. This is a story about a church's priorities gone askew. It is a tale of an unreached people group that may very well never read the Bible in their own language because an American church decided, among other things, their children's church needed more "pop." I have changed the names, and some of the details.

Eight years ago, Mike and Tracy Goeglein rejoiced when they learned that a Midwestern mega-church had decided to adopt the Kaputo people group in African. Bible translators, Mike and Tracy have devoted their life to seeing that people who don't know Jesus Christ have the word of God in their own language. Together, along with other missionaries from their organization, they signed a lengthy covenant with the Independent Christian Church that agreed to be their partners in this monumental endeavor to bring the Bible to the Kaputo.

It was a win-win. Mike and Tracy would have the resources necessary for their work; the church would accomplish its goal to evangelize an unreached people group; the Kaputo would receive God's Word in their native tongue.

Mike and Tracy returned to Africa and threw themselves into their work. Two years passed and a new pastor arrived on the scene at the mega-church. Changes were instituted. The most significant was the church's determination to be more "elder-led" and less "staff driven." As a consequence, a significant number of the church staff was fired, including the mission's minister that was the architect of the covenant between the church and Mike and Tracy.

An ocean away from these changes, however, Mike and Tracy felt relatively secure that their partnership with this Restoration Movement megachurch was stable. After all, they had signed a covenant, and that word meant something. So, they confidently continued in their efforts to bring God's Word to the Kaputo. Then, just two years ago, the church announced that their mission's ministry had "received another calling" and sent "Dear John" letters to more than fifty of the missionaries they supported. Of the church's seventy-one missionaries, only seventeen would continue to receive financial backing. Some were cut off immediately. Others, like Mike and Tracy, were given two years notice so that they could find other streams of revenue for their work.

Of course, the Goegleins were in Africa, so finding other supporters - especially those with pockets as deep as the 6,000 member church that was abandoning them - was particularly difficult. Mike and Tracy's stateside colleagues visited the church and implored them to reconsider. They were told, however, that the church's new mission strategy was more short-term in its approach. Their new "calling" was to send short-term missionaries or teams that would be in and out of a country within five years. With the average Bible translation requiring an investment of twenty or more years, the Goeglein's work did not fit the new parameters.

Eventually the Goegleins themselves returned home to ask the church's elders to reconsider. They did not. In the course of their meeting, however, Mike and Tracy were treated to a tour of the church's new facility. They were shown the multiple large-screen video projection units that the church was in the process of installing. The tour guide explained that the congregation had recently contracted with a Disney consultant to develop an animated Noah's ark theme for the children's wing.

Mike and Tracy are back in Africa now. They and their children survive on beans and lentils. There is not much protein in their diet - maybe a chicken to eat every other night. The mission support they have counted on from the megachurch ends in December. Just after Christmas. What then?

While children in the heartland will be treated to an amazing children's facility that boasts animatronic giraffes with heads that sway above the roof of a cartoonish Noah's ark, the Goegleins wonder if the Kaputo children will ever be able to read about the real Noah. While the elders of this megachurch set aside the covenant they signed in which they agreed to partner with the elders of the Kaputo tribe, one has to ask: if the Kaputo ever get a Bible in their own tongue, and if they learn to read that Bible, are they not going to ask, "If God's people can so easily jettison a document that they call a 'covenant', will not God do the same with His?"

Shame on us.

Caleb's first deer

My son, Caleb, shot his first deer during last weekend's Michigan youth hunt. Admittedly, this isn't the biggest deer in the woods. When the adrenaline is pumping and the deer is out there all by himself, though, it's a bit tough to estimate the size - especially when its your first time looking at brown through a scope.

This little button buck will taste pretty good, and Caleb is hooked on hunting for life, I think.

Jonah got a shot at a nice 6-point, but the jitters took over and he missed. It was a great weekend that primed the Weller men for November 15!

When pumpkins drink . . .

Dave said . . .

During last week's Bob Russell retreat we had a chance to sit down with Dave Stone, the Senior Pastor of Southeast Christian Church in Louisville, Kentucky. As we introduced ourselves, Dave asked each of us what was one issue we were currently working through in our church. I told him we were transitioning to become a church that "seeks, studies, and serves God." I explained that inculcating the congregation with this mission and paring away everything that was not "Seek, Study and Serve," was our highest priority.

I really like it when Dave said, "I noticed your email. Seekstudyserve.org - very cool." I confessed to Dave that we developed the mission after hearing about it indirectly from Southland Christian Church. I told him that we purchased ".com", and ".net" as well as our website's ".org." Dave frequently has contact with Jon Weece, the Senior Minister at Southland, so I jokingly told him, "When you talk to Jon, let him know we'd be happy to sell him one of the URLs we're not using." Dave retorted, "For just a week's worth of offering, right!"

A week's worth of Southland's offering? I'd say that oughta 'bout cover it . . .

As you requested

Mark Christian preached in my absence this past Sunday at South. Kris Bargan made a little video to introduce him to the congregation. It was a hoot! Several have requested to see it, so here it is:

Retreat, Day Three

I enjoyed another great day at Country Lake Retreat Center in Henryville, Indiana. We heard from Bob Russell again today as he taught us about preaching. I'd heard much of it before at Preaching Summit, but it was good stuff, nevertheless, as we were able to interact with him and ask questions.

Three of Bob's elders also talked with us about how the eldership functions as Southeast. These guys are sharp, and they reminded me a lot of our elders at South Lansing Christian Church. We have an excellent group of elders there. Not only are these men committed to Christ and his church, but they are supportive of our staff and good leaders. I really apprecaited them. Southeast is planning a second eldership retreat next fall that I hope our guys can attend. I want them to experience the same refreshing that I have this week.

We also heard from Dr. Kevin Ezell, a Baptist megachurch pastor from Louisville. He talked with us about some of the early struggles he faced at his church. He had to fire, for instance, 23 staff people in a 24 month period when he arrived at Highview Baptist. He was a stictch and had us laughing until our sides hurt.

From there we drove to Southeast to visit with Dave Stone and to take a tour of their facilities. Amazing. Huge. But also quite complex. As we discussed their men's ministries, their women's ministries, and all their other ministries, I thought about our efforts to become a Simple Church. I'm convinced that we're on the right track. Just three things folks: Seek, Study, and Serve God.

One thing that Southeast is doing that is light years ahead of South Lansing is in connecting first-time attenders and new members to the church. Their assimilation process is specific, defined and hums along like a Swiss watch. I especially like that they're connecting new members and attenders to a five week small group as soon as they join (something Wally, our Associate Minister, and his team has been pushing for). I think we need to send Wally and his team down here soon to learn the ins and the outs of a system that could pretty easily be adapted for South Lansing Christian.

We rounded out the day by bowling with Bob and then eating dinner at Bob and Judy Russell's home. What a great day.

I am looking forward to coming home and implementing what I've been learning!

Retreat, Day Two

I'm spending another night at Country Lake Retreat Center north of Louisville, Kentucky tonight. Bob Russell Ministries is sponsoring a retreat for preachers. Eight guys in a room with Bob. Fantastic. We're learning about church leadership from a legend of leadership. Earlier today we had a private tour of Louisville Slugger with the owner's son-in-law, Bill Clark. Bill is an elder at Northeast Christian Church in Louisville.

He talked about the importance of "swimming with the fish." It is a metaphor that basically means we need to connect with the people our church is trying to reach to get their reactions. A question he recommends we ask them is, "What in our service helped you draw closer to God?" Also, "what was an obstacle?"

Excellent, excellent stuff.

Dinner tonight was at Ruth's Chris - I had the T-bon - Wow! We'll be touring Southeast tomorrow and meeting with some of their elders and Senior Minister Dave Stone. What a great retreat.

My buddy Fred is going on this retreat in November. To all my preacher buddies - you need to go to Bob's website and apply for this retreat!

Oh - the fish. One of the guys at our retreat, a Baptist preacher from Mississippi who is a chaplain on the pro bass fisherman's tour caught this eight pounder this morning right down in front of the lodge. It was his third cast. He threw it back, though. So much for once-a-keeper, always-a-keeper.

Cubs win! Cubs win!

Post-season, here we come!

Looking out the window

A couple months back I preached a sermon about Cain and Abel in which I suggested Cain's problem was that he looked out the window to point out his brother's deficiencies rather than looking in the mirror and taking personal responsibility for his own. We all do that, I think, to some extent. It is easier to look out the window than in the mirror. Less self-confrontational. It enables us to avoid facing the harsh reality that we need to change.

The window / mirror concept comes from Jim Collins' book, Good to Great. Collins teaches that "level five leaders," that rare breed of individuals that reach the pinnacle of leadership, have mastered this concept. When looking to assign credit they look out the window. When looking to assign blame, they look in the mirror. That is real leadership, says Collins.

By comparison, leaders who were in charge of companies that failed, ". . . did just the opposite. They'd look out the window for something or someone outside themselves to blame for poor results, but would preen in front of the mirror and credit themselves when things went well."

Consider then, Collins comments in light of the blame being either accepted or deflected by the men and women who lead us in Washington:

Speaker of the United States House of Representatives, Nancy Pelosi
According to The Hill, "House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, when asked Tuesday whether Democrats bear some of the responsibility regarding the current crisis on Wall Street, had a one-word answer: 'No.'" Apparently there are no mirrors in her office.

Republican Presidential Nominee, John McCain
McCain comes a little closer to getting it right. At a Florida rally, McCain said, "As for the Congress, members in both parties must accept a share of the responsibility." According to the AP McCain said, "America is in a crisis today . . . The economic crisis is not the fault of the American people. Our workers are the most innovative, the hardest working, the best skilled, the most productive, the most competitive in the world. ... But they are being threatened today ... because of greed and corruption that some engaged in on Wall Street and we have got to fix it."

Democratic Presidential Nominee, Barack Obama
U.S. News and World Report writes, "Democratic nominee Barack Obama in a statement called it 'the most serious financial crisis since the Great Depression.' He laid the blame squarely on the policies of the Bush Administration, and suggested his Republican rival, John McCain, would provide more of the same."

Real leaders man up and accept their share of the blame. Congress is responsible, and that includes Senators McCain and Obama. President Bush is culpable. Wall Street shares some of the blame. I am partly responsible for contributing to the problem by buying into the buy-now-pay-later culture.

You'll hear a lot of talk over the next few weeks about "blame isn't productive, let's focus on a solution." Well, the first step in finding a solution is recognizing my share of the blame. Real leaders do that. Hopefully one will reveal himself so we can elect him in November.

I conducted a funeral today for a MSU alumnus and lifelong Spartan fan. There was a Spartan flag draped across the casket. The family talked about their dad attending the Frozen Four and the Rose Bowl. They made mention of him watching basketball games with his neighbor. He saw some of the great Spartan players - Magic Johnson, Steve Garvey and the like.

At one point in the service they played the MSU alma mater, "MSU Shadows." It was amazing to watch the congregation. Tears that had been held in for most of the service flowed as the lyrics of the song brought back memories - not just of Mr. Stewart - but for his children and grandchildren who are fellow State alums.

It made me think about my Alma Mater, Great Lakes Christian College. I don't ever recall seeing anyone get misty-eyed as they sang, "'Neath the azure dome of Heaven . . ." There is something visceral and palpable about the love that State fans have for their university that seems to be missing among my generation of GLCC grads.

I think I might know at least one reason why. I play basketball with John who works for the University. About a month ago John had to miss a game - something he almost never does. When he showed up the following week I asked him where he had been. He told me that each year, when incoming Freshman arrive on campus, John gives a talk. Because there are thousands of freshmen, John gives the talk dozens of times. I've since learned that "the talk" is legendary. The title: "What it Means to be a Spartan." John shares MSU traditions with the students. He explains to them that they are inheriting a legacy, and that they are keepers of this legacy for succeeding generations of Spartan alums. MSU has such profoundly loyal alumni because, in part, they learn to love the university the very first week they are on campus.

I don't recall ever hearing a talk titled "What it Means to be a Crusader." To be sure, I learned something of what it means to be a GLCC alumnus. Indeed, I do tear up when I sing the Alma Mater because I recall Dr. Brant Lee Doty, its author. I wonder, though, if this year's freshman even know the song. (State Freshman are required to learn theirs.) I wonder if they have heard of Dr. Doty or if he is just another faceless name, a bit of trivia, or a post-card thought that some of their alumni parents occasionally mention.

My wife and I and many others have bemoaned the anemic alumni involvement at our college. Frankly, there have been instances where we contributed to that problem. I am wondering, though, if part of the solution begins by teaching incoming freshman just how special a legacy they're entrusted with. By reminding them that they're receiving a gift from the college and that the time will come when they'll be expected to give back in equal measure . . .

Props to a YouTube-er

I'm preaching from Acts 17 tomorrow making the case that we seek God because only He can fill the void in our heart that His absence creates. Huge props to TRIPPISME for allowing me to use his video rendering of the Athens Parthenon. It is a way cool video. The Apostle Paul mush have had some major . . . nerve . . . to go into so intimidating a city and deliver the message of Jesus Christ. Athena's statue in the Parthenon was thirty-nine feet tall, but not nearly so tall as Paul.

You're welcome - not!

Julio is a young guy that has been using our gym on Tuesday nights for pick-up basketball. Let me first say that he's a good guy. So nice, in fact, that the game has blown up from the original ten or twelve ballers to over twenty gym rats. The place is so busy on Tuesday nights that you're lucky if you can get on the court for one game out of every three.

In an effort to reign in the eager hoopsters, Julio posted this sign on the front door last week:One of our elders saw the sign shortly after is was taped to the front door and freaked out (rightfully so, by the way). We stress, over and over, that South is a "place for you." We are inclusive not exclusive. For Julio - who doesn't attend our church - it was an honest mistake.

Yet I've been around many churches and many Christians that have exactly this attitude. Church starts growing. New people start coming. The "establishment" begins to realize they might lose control and they freak out. (Sound familiar Fred?) Maybe they don't post signs on the door, but it is made clear in other, not uncertain ways, that "If you don't know me and I don't know you, you are not welcome."

My friend, Terry, was fired from a church in Kentucky for this very reason. The church grew. "Our people" were threatened by "those people." Undesirables (read, "sinners") began coming to church bringing their habits and heartaches right along with them. Solution - fire the preacher. My buddy Mike went through the same thing. He started inviting skateboarders to church. Kids with more ink than a Kinko's starting mixing with the Bible Bowl crowd and Mike's phone began to ring. Parents were concerned that their "good kids" might become "infected." (Perhaps because they were never properly inoculated?) When over 100 such kids started showing up on Sunday nights, it was time for Mike to go. Bye bye, Mike. Oh, and bye bye youth group. And, I suspect, bye bye to a generation of kids in that town who have one more reason to hate the church.

The thing is, these churches usually get exactly what they want. A small, close-knit group of believers that know each other, and each others' business. Forty people who come together on Sunday morning and play church the way you and I used to play house with our siblings and neighbors in the yard barn out behind the grape arbor. People stay away and the church slowly atrophies. The building becomes an antique mall and the member or two that has to sign at closing takes some small consolation in knowing that the money realized from the sale of the building went to help the church camp or the Bible college.

There is that problem of the great commission being ignored. There is the little thing about Acts 1:8 being overlooked. "Go ye into all the world." Fine so long as the world don't come in here. "You will be my witnesses in all Jerusalem." As long as the Jerusalemites don't have different color skin or funny hair or tattoos or, or, or, or.

I have to talk with Julio tonight. Hopefully I can help him understand that our church has a different understanding. Some have suggested its time to nix the Tuesday night open gym altogether. I wonder, though, if a better plan might be to "plant" some Southies in the gym as covert witnesses of Jesus Christ. Maybe we can do a little guerrilla evangelism once a week.

If that happens, maybe Julio and his crew - none of whom are members here at South - will begin showing up here for something other than ball. Who knows, maybe we'll have to deal with all Julio's guys coming on Sunday morning and sitting in "someone's seat."

Frankly, I can't wait for that to happen.

The hype that is Skype

I just installed Skype on the MacBook Pro. My missionary sister wants to be able to talk to her kid brother on the cheap so we're trying to set that up. I just wonder, are there any Frankly Speaking readers out there that have experience with Skype? What can you tell me about it?

Medals, metals, and mettle . . .

Dan Wetzel, writing for yahoo.com, explains that the United States had better get used to being beaten out by the Chinese in the medal count. In China children are taken from their parents and trained in the sport most appropriate to their body types, so it seems likely that he is right.

Here in the states, athletes leave college and go to the NFL or some other professional league and make millions. Chinese athletes don't have that option. According to Wetzel, they're state property. What is more, the Chinese have targeted solo medals rather than the team sports. It takes fifteen softball players to win one gold, but dozens of gymnasts, swimmers and weight lifters can each take medals home.

The end result: the USA had better get used to being second in the medal count.

So I propose a new method of accounting medals. Simply take the total medal count from the mint - every medal they stamp - and divide them accordingly. So, when the men's hoops team wins gold, we'll put 12 gold medals in our column. When 14 . . . er . . . 16 year-old He Kexin wins gold on the uneven bars, we'll place one tally in the Chinese column. We do the same for each individual and each team sport.

I would be interested to know how the US fares with that sort of accounting. Given our dominance in many of the team sports, I suspect we'll win the medal count, or at least hold our own.

If not, we'll have to hope that the Chinese decide to stop being the new East Germany, in order to keep up.

Frankly funny . . .

Some of the funniest satire I've read in a while . . .

Tithing from the lottery

Wayne Smith, a well-known preacher from our brotherhood of churches, was once asked, "Wayne, what would you do if someone won the lottery and wanted to give the money to the church?" Wayne thought a moment and replied, "I don't care about money's pedigree, just it's destination."

I feel certain that there have to be some genealogical connections that would force us preachers to reject a donation. I wouldn't, for example, want to take funds that were received as a result of anything illegal. The question is: should the church accept funds from something that is merely immoral, if not illegal? And, who is the arbiter of morality in such cases?

First Baptist Church in Orange Park, Florida has been wrestling with that very issue. When one of their members, Robert Powell won $6 million in the Florida Lottery last month, he decided to tithe ten percent to the church. The church, however, rejected the $600,000 donation. Pastor David Tarkington politely declined the offer because he believes and teaches that gambling is wrong.

Others are not so sure. Pastor Dr. Lorenzo Hall, who leads a nearby inner city ministry said, "I'm against the lottery, but if one of my members won the lottery, I wish and I hope he would give 10% to the church, we could do a lot of things with that money."

I've often wondered what I would do if confronted with the same dilemma / opportunity. I've even wondered what I would do if I found myself on the giving end of such a problem. From time to time my father-in-law will buy a lottery ticket and designate it for my wife and I. We've even received lottery scratch-offs from my cousin as a Christmas gift. What would I do if I won? It is a problem that I would prefer to explore, not just in the abstract, but in the concrete in case you're wondering.

In the meantime, I'll continue to counsel and preach tithing to the saints at South Lansing Christian Church. Lot's of folks are listening, too. South has been incredibly generous in 2008. In state racked by recession and job-loss, Southies have given more to the work of the church than at any other time in the church's history. Their generosity is incredible. As we grow in this discipline of giving, I look forward to the day when all the members at South tithe. Then we'll have more than enough money to fund all our ministries, grow the church, and pay off our church's mortgage early.

I read an old preacher story recently that sums it up nicely:

Dr. Hugh McKean of Chiengmai, Thailand, tells of a church of four hundred members where every member tithes. They receive a weekly wage of forty stangs (less than twenty cents] and their rice. Of this meager existence, each gives a tenth every week. Because of this, they have done more for Christ in Thailand than any other church. They pay their own preacher and have sent two missionary families to spread the gospel in a community cut off from the outside world. They are intensely interested in all forms of Christian work, especially work for unfortunates of every kind; and their gifts for this kind of work are large. They have not only accepted Christ, but, having found Him good, they are making Him known to others.

Oh, by the way, this church of all tithers is also a church of all lepers--every person has leprosy.

Not according to plan

I heard a preacher say recently, "Ask 'what' not 'why' then wait and apply." I've been doing that today.

Had to take Abby to the eye doctor because her left eye was in pain and really, really red. Turns out she has "multiple corneal ulcers." We spent the next hour finding a pharmacy that had the medication the optometrist prescribed in stock.

Jonah had his eye doctor appointment, too. But with Abby being squeezed in, his was pushed back, meaning I didn't get into the office until 2:30 PM. Now I am headed out to East Lansing to drop Jonah off at the physician's office for his sports physical.

I'm not whining (am I?), just explaining that the whole "waiting thing" I talked about this last Sunday applies to preachers, too. God wants to teach me patience, just like the rest of us.

Oh . . . Abby has to wear her glasses for the next month. She's hating that . . .

Back from Northmen

The Weller men made their way back to Grand Ledge from The Northmen. Our time at the men and boy's rally was great! The preaching was good, but even better was the time spent around the campfire and in the Manistee River.

Now, back to work.

This Sunday Intern Jonathon and I are preaching about Abraham and Sarah. The sermon is titled, Hating the Waiting. I hope to inspire everyone at South to Ask "what" not "why," then wait and apply. All too often, when God has us in the waiting room, we ask "Why me, God?"

A young couple struggles to conceive. A son watches his parent slowly suffer a debilitating terminal illness. A single adult watches as friend after friend marries and wonders how long the wait will be before God reveals her life companion. A teenager wonders is she will ever turn eighteen and be free from her parents' abusive anger. Waiting. We all hate it, I think.

I'll admit, I've been blessed. I've not had to wait as long as some folks. Good thing, really. I'm not too patient - certainly not as patient as many I've met. When I do wait, though, I have learned the importance of asking "what?" What is it you want to teach me, God? What change do you want to make in my character? What are you going to reveal about Yourself to me through this circumstance?

Asking, "why?" never really leads to anything productive or useful. Asking, "what?" though - that's altogether different. Not easier, mind you, just more useful.

Tonight's Figure Eight School Bus Race Crash

Took the fam to Spartan Speedway in Mason, Michigan tonight, courtesy of Ken Coutler, crew chief for the Number 9 JD Wisner Electric School Bus of Tomorrow. It was our first time at the figure eight school bus races, and it is one we'll never forget.

Ken always fields a strong bus and this year was no exception. The victim of a bad draw, Ken's bus was forced to start near the back of the pack for the twenty-five lap feature. Within two laps, Ken's driver, Steve, was already moving up when he got into a scuffle coming off turn four. The 9 bus was wedged in between the Number 3, driven by the Mayor of Mason, and the Kitsmiller RV entry. At last year's September race, the Kitsmiller bus rolled Steve on his side. Steve returned the favor this year, dumping the Kitsmiller bus and breaking it's drive shaft. In the fracas, the Wisner bus began losing water.

By the time the green flag flew again, Ken's entry was running without any coolant. Just prior to the restart Ken told his driver, "It's a diesel engine and has new oil. I think she'll hold together for another twenty-three laps. " The Wisner Electric cheering section held its breath and crossed its fingers. The next fifteen laps were a dual between the Culligan Water entry and the camo painted Beacon Sales bus. But when they two of them crashed into the wall, the Wisner bus took the lead and began steadily pulling away.

With just two laps remaining and with a slower bus ahead of him, Steve looked like he would cruise to victory lane. But it was not to be. The big diesel motor seized up just short of the win. Our hopes were dashed! Nevertheless, we enjoyed a great night of racing with our friends the Coulters, the Maltzans and the Sleights and many others that we've just met.

We plan to be back at Spartan September 5 for the final showdown of this year's figure eight school bus races! With crashes like tonight's (shown here in the video below) you can see why!

The Dark Knight

Caleb cracked open his lawn mowing piggy bank tonight and paid for movie tickets for the three Weller men. He and Jonah cashed in our pop bottles, too, providing for candy and popcorn. Our choice of screenings: the new Batman flick.

I'll admit that I was skeptical about it. The whole world has been going to see the film. As one who, from time to time, swims against the tide, I assumed I wouldn't like it. Wrong. It was an engaging and tense drama that kept us glued to our seats from beginning to end. Heath Ledger was great. His effort eclipsed the rest of the cast. I can't actually tell you who played the Caped Crusader, in fact.

The boys said that the movie was better than Ironman, and better than Hancock (which they liked quite a lot). I'll have to take their word for it.

The best part of the movie for me: escaping for a bit into the land of make believe. Shame the lights had to come back on at the end of the night . . .

Why I go to camp . . .

One week ago tonight I was privileged to baptize Rodger at Lake James Christian Assembly. He is a fine young man who will, I believe, make a difference for the Kingdom.

Mending, sort of

I've heard about elders that give their preachers black eyes, but I always assumed it was metaphorical. Before today, that is. As you can see from the photo, I am recovering from my surgery quite well. Before South Lansing Christian Church elder, Dana Allen, (not that I am naming names or anything) gave my this shiner with with his pointy elbow.

Dana has what is, arguably, the ugliest jump shot I have seen. Ever. He makes sure he is just behind the three-point line and then throws his six foot six inch frame forward, thrusting his right arm (or is it left) out and upward toward the basket. The other arm not so much guides the ball, but provides the necessary ballast to ensure he doesn't topple over. The thing is, more often than not his ugly shots go in.

I D'ed up on Dana this afternoon at lunchtime. He threw up another nasty looking three and I dove in underneath his shot to try and throw him off a bit. As he came down his pencil sharpened elbow caught me on my orbital socket. Pain. Swelling. No big deal - or so I thought. After showering I walked up to the office and Sue said, "What's with the shiner?" Sure enough I have a black eye that is reminiscent of the old cigarette ads. You know the ones - "I would rather fight than switch!" Way to go Dana!

On the other hand, it has given me the opportunity to point out to anyone who asks that the stitches in the forehead and the bruised eye were given to me by my wife for coming home too late. She loves that. Come to think of it, I better lay off the husband beating humor before she provides some fist-induced symmetry to my already battered melon.

Under the knife. . .

Frankly Speaking took to the road Monday morning traveling to Ingham Regional Medical Center for the excision of a lipoma from the mid forehead.

I was awake for most of the surgery. The nurse anesthetist, Jane, gave me a little sleepy-sleep to keep my mind off of the numbing medication that they were injecting into the surgical site. When I woke up a few minutes later, Dr. Supanwanid had already made his incision and was excising the tumor. He used a bovie - an electrical scalpel of sorts - that cuts and cauterizes at the same time. I could see smoke curling up from my eyes as he cauterized the little bleeders that saturate the forehead. Assisted by scrub nurse Natalie, and surgical tech Jennifer, he and Jane made quick work of it.

The whole thing took less than thirty-five minutes and, surgically speaking, everything went according to plan. They cut that little dude out and stitched me up good as new. I see the doctor again next Monday. I am anticipating that I will be getting some pictures from Dr. Supanwanid. He snapped away with his digital camera before, during, and after the procedure. I'll be posting them here for you all to enjoy!

Just the best group ever . . .

I invested the whole week in these amazing students at Lake James Christian Assembly. Several of them rededicated their lives to Christ. One, Roger, is going to be immersed into Jesus later this afternoon. I had a good conversation with one of them about giving her life to full-time Christian service, too. It was a week well spent . . .

Me in hell

Walked through hell tonight at Lake James Christian Assembly. I was a demon. Here I am. I sure am glad to get my normal lovely face back.

Missing you all at South. See you next week. In the meantime, Dean Trune will be preaching on Sunday. His sermon, Change Changes Me, will teach about how change affects our character.

Out at OLD Lake James

As I stood waiting to give my campfire talk last night it occurred to me. I am the oldest guy on faculty at LJCA Senior High camp this week. I am that guy. You know . . . the guy that all us young buck youth ministers used to look at and think, "I'm never going to be like that old guy." I am now him.

On the one hand, I am greatly encouraged to know that there are so many great younger people who are committed to ministering to our students. On the other hand I wonder if there aren't some older wiser people from whom our students can better learn. If I am the oldest man on staff here, I wonder if maybe we don't need someone with more gray hair than myself to give students a more complete perspective on life and life with Christ.

Then again, maybe I just don't want to be the "old man" of the camp . . .

There's a camp that takes the banner . . .

Our first full day of Sr. High week at Lake James Christian Assembly is in the books. What a great day! Our students were challenged today with a time of personal reflection. Who are they? How goes their relationship with the Father? They heard about grace from Dan Smith, and tonight I challenged them to consider how small they are in relationship when compared to the Father's enormity.

God is big!
I am little.
He loves me.
I love Him!

That is what I hope to drive home this week during my campfire talks.

Headed to camp

The three little Franklies and I are headed to Lake James Christian Assembly this week. Mrs. Frankly is staying back to go to class. She should enjoy the peace and quiet time to study. As for us, we'll be blessed by the week of camp!

Here is something to make you smile while I am away . . .

It's 7 PM. Do you know where your preacher is?

A BBC story about a pastor that disguised himself as a tramp reminded me of a sermon by Mike Breaux. Seems that, years and years ago, Brother Breaux disguised himself as a homeless person. He wore old army clothing, a nasty wig and a beard. Sunglasses and a couple of paper grocery bags into which he had stuffed his "belongings" completed the ensemble. Oh yeah, there was also the smell. He had deliberately stunk up his clothing to make himself seem as though he had been on the streets for some time.

He was scheduled to preach for the Sunday night worship service at his church. (Remember when we used to have Sunday night church?) He arrived about the time the service was to start and made his way into the "sanctuary." Nobody spoke to him. Mother's drew their children close. Hostile stares greeted his walking down the aisle. He chose a seat about half way toward the front.

At the conclusion of the song service, the worship leader sat down. The congregation began shifting in their seats wondering where Pastor Mike was. Had he forgotten? Was he somehow detained? Then, the "bum" rose from his seat. He slowly made his way toward the pulpit, shedding the wig and clothing as he went. Brother Mike related that, by the time he stepped to the pulpit, he was sick to his stomach by the insensitive way he was ignored. So, as he tells it, was his congregation at the realization of what had just taken place.

I wonder how South would react in similar circumstances. Would we embrace the un-embraceable? Would we welcome the unwelcomed? Would we draw in "the least of these" or would we suggest a church down the street where they might be "more comfortable?" I hope (and I believe we would) be Jesus to whomever comes to our door.

From the land of Ur, I mean ER

Its half past midnight and I'm hanging out in the Sparrow Pediatric Emergency Room. Abigail busted her melon tonight at youth group during a game of steal the bacon. She felt kind of woozy at first but then quickly recovered. Later, at the movies, she began to feel nauseated and had a huge headache.

On the advice of a doctor friend we stopped by Sparrow to have her checked out. The folks here tell us she has a "grade 2 concussion." Short term memory blips, trouble concentrating, headache, the pukes. Frankly, it sounds a little like finals week at Grand Ledge.

So we're hanging out waiting for CAT scan results. As soon as they come back we're headed home. Till then, Abby sleeps and I blog and wait.

Headed to Haiti in 2009

Plans are shaping up for our medical mission trip to Haiti on March 13-21, 2009. Our OB/GYN team will perform surgeries all week long while others in the team work with Haitians ranging in age from infants to the elderly. My wife, Tracy, is leading a team from our church and is looking for medical professionals as well as anyone with a heart to serve Jesus.

That means that, while doctors, nurses and other caregivers will be coming along, so can students, teachers, farmers, factory workers and anyone else who is willing to be used by God. There will be plenty for everyone to do: construction-related projects, helping with the nutrition program, cleaning, rocking babies, and just blessing the Haitian folks.

If you're interested in joining our team, or if you would like more information, click here to email Tracy.

While you're contemplating that, take a look at some video reflections of Tracy's trip from March of this year:

Happy Independence Day

Enjoying the day at Jordan Lake with Fred and Mariah and family. Went tubing and drank about thirty gallons of lake water. Tons of fun!

Hope your 4th is great, too and, if you see a veteran, remember to thank them for keeping our freedom.

The spice in my sermons . . .

Two nights ago my son, Jonah, and I watched the Disney animated flick Ratatouille. Fun movie! I love the part where the little rodent runs around the kitchen tossing in a bit spice here, a clove of garlic there. He cooks up a sopa de dia to die for.

My sermon preparation often resembles that. I teach aspiring preachers a method of sermon preparation that I call the "Eureka Method." I pile all the language tools and commentaries on my desk. I open my Word Search program to several different translations. I've got dictionaries and encyclopedias piled around my desk. And then I dive into it all. After a while, an outline begins to emerge from the haze. Then, at some point, (I never know when that will be. Sometimes it happens quickly; other times it is painfully slow) I have this "aha" moment where I sit up and say "that's what it is!" That is my Eureka moment.

From that point on, the sermon writing takes on a life of its own.

Often times the cherry on top of that ice cream sundae is a video clip from SermonSpice.com.

A few weeks back, for instance, I was preaching on the relationship between husbands and wives. I showed a clip to make the point that women need leadership and comfort from their husbands. It had a powerful impact. More recently, I used a clip titled "Alone in a Crowd" to demonstrate that, in spite of us having many acquaintances, too few of us have really deep friendships.

While considerably more expensive than, say, BluefishTV.com, SermonSpice has nevertheless become an important "club" in my homiletics golf bag.