About my father's business

Twelve-year-old Jesus had just been confronted by his mother for going AWOL on the trip home from Jerusalem to Nazareth. While the rest of his family made the post-Passover trip home, Jesus remained behind in the temple to chew the scriptural fat with the theologians. On realizing that Jesus is missing and not just hanging out with the other preteen kids in the caravan, his parents return to Jerusalem for a panicky three-day search.

The first red letters in Luke's gospel, that is, the first words that Luke records Jesus speaking are, "Why did you need to search? Didn't you know that I must be about my Father's business?"


Why these words?

Why this story?

Luke wasn't there, obviously. This is not an eyewitness account. Someone told Luke this story and, presumably, many others. Was it Mary, Jesus' mother? Did Luke interview her after Jesus' ascension and record this among the events she had "stored in her heart?"

Surely there were other stories, other tales of Jesus growing up in his daddy's carpenter's shop. The time when he got a splinter in his hand. Stories of him falling off a scaffold or hitting his thumb with a hammer. Jesus' back-when-I-was-a-kid tales that took on greater gravity given his father's early death.

So, why this story?

These prepubescent words plucked from an adolescence that is otherwise ignored in the gospels?

(The next time we see red letters in Luke's gospel he isn't talking to his mother; he isn't speaking to his cousin, John, about to be baptized in the Jordan River. The next time Luke turns his attention to Jesus' words he's talking to Satan.)

Why this story?

Maybe it is because all the red-letter words that follow Luke 2:49 are the fulfillment of twelve-year-old Jesus' declaration that the purpose of his life was to be about his Father's business.

Turns out that is the purpose of your life - and mine - too.

Fear and comfort

Sunday is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. Millions of Christians worldwide will join together to pray for our brothers and sisters who experience terror because they follow Jesus. South Lansing Christian Church will be joining them.

The statistics are shocking really. I could write about the dozens of belligerent nations that persecute believers - nations like North Korea that are not U.S. allies. But what shocks me most are the persecuted Christians who live in countries like Afghanistan where the United States has invested time, money, and the blood of our service members.


Earlier this year the Washington Post reported on a Harvard study that projects the war will cost U.S. taxpayers $4-6 trillion by the time we are done paying for it. (The study factors in the cost of a lifetime of care for wounded veterans.) To date 2,274 service members have died there. The cost of this war - in blood and money - is making it less and less popular with every passing day, with two-thirds of Americans saying it is not a war worth fighting.

I'm one of them.

But not for the reason you might think.

Our nation has long stood for freedom.

Freedom of speech.

Freedom of thought.

Freedom of faith.

And if I thought we could guarantee those freedoms to Afghans my support would be full-throated.

But is there anyone who seriously believes that Afghans will permit Christians to practice their faith in an unoccupied Afghanistan when they're murdering Christians while United States Forces are still there?

After he and his wife converted to Christianity six years ago, Obaid S. Christ and his wife were forced to leave Afghanistan to relocate to India. According to The Voice of the Martyrs,

Afghanistan is an Islamic nation under sharia law, where the penalty for conversion to Christianity is death. Pastor Obaid knows of at least 22 missing Christians, who are feared to be imprisoned or executed. He believes there are around 1,000 Christians in the country, who meet in underground churches of between 10-15 members.

Not surprising given the leadership of numerous public officials like Afghan Minister of Parliament, Nazir Ahmad Hanafi who was quoted by an Afghan news service as saying, “Numerous Afghans have become Christians in India. This is an offense to Islamic laws, and according to the Quran, they need to be executed.”

The fact remains, though, we're not getting out of Afghanistan any time soon. While troop levels are decreasing - an Army Times story indicates a 20% reduction - we're going to be engaged in Afghanistan through at least the end of 2014. What is more, we are currently negotiating for at least some troops to remain in country after that.

So what should a thoughtful Christian do?

Pray.

We need to pray for Afghan Muslims. There are moderates in Afghanistan who need Jesus. And there are radicals in Afghanistan who need Jesus. But all Muslims need Jesus. There is no place in the believer's life for a kill-em-all-and-let-God-sort-them-out mentality. Paul wrote, "Christ came into the world to save sinners - of whom I am the worst." Do you suppose there were believers praying for Paul when he was the Sanhedrin appointed persecutor of Christians? I suspect so.

We need to pray for our service members. One of our church's elders has a son who will be deployed in 2014. Afghanistan has been mentioned as one of the possible places of his deployment. This soldier is a follower of Jesus. He takes Jesus with him wherever he goes. He is a believer first and a soldier second. Should he be deployed to Afghanistan, he is probably the closest thing to a missionary that our church will ever be able to send to there. I'm praying for his safety; I am praying for his ministry.

Finally, we need to pray for Afghan Christians. 

That's what we'll be doing this Sunday. But perhaps we could pray for persecuted believers every day.


I read something in my quiet time last week that has rattled around in my brain, refusing to go away. In his history of the early church, a church that experienced horrific persecution, Luke mentions, almost as a postscript to his previous thoughts,  

The church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria was at peace. It was being built up and walked in the fear of the Lord, and with the consolation of the holy Spirit it grew in numbers.

Three years after he came to power, Emperor Caligula ordered a statue of himself erected in the Temple in Jerusalem. Suddenly the Jewish leaders had bigger problems than this strange Jewish sect of Jesus followers. With their attention diverted to stopping this idolatrous intrusion into their temple, the church experienced a period of calm.

In the midst of this calm, the church grew. Luke tells us that the growth was the result of two co-existing realities: the church "walked in the fear of the Lord," and the church experienced, "the consolation of the Holy Spirit." 

This is my prayer for the church. 

Not just the church in Afghanistan, but the Church universal. 

That we would walk in the fear of the Lord. That believers in nations such as ours, where the church is increasing in carnality and looks far too much like the unbelieving world, would begin to walk in the fear of the Lord. 

And that in nations wherever the church is persecuted believers would experience the consolation of the Holy Spirit.

The fear of the Lord. 

The comfort of the Holy Spirit. 

This Sunday, on this International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church, we have the opportunity to partake in both.

Next . . .

Jim Leyland stepped down today after an eight year stint as the manager of the DetroitTigers. Most folks are cheering that decision. Some are applauding Leyland's great run as the Tiger's skipper; others are saying, "good riddance." (My Facebook feed has been littered with angry outbursts from Tiger fans after the way the bullpen imploded in the Tigers in the American League Championship Series.)

That makes sense, I guess.

Leyland’s relationship with the media and with fans has been tempestuous the last couple of years. Fans second guess – that is what they do – and the media exists to sell news. So it is no surprise that each constituency has had a love/hate relationship with “Jimmy Smokes.” Of course, those closest to Leyland - his boss and his players love - the guy and that's what probably matters to Leyland the most.

All that aside, here is what struck me about Leyland’s exit today:

It’s already old news.

Barely a half day after his announcement, the sixth story of the Google feed for “Jim Leyland” is “Who replaces Jim Leyland as Tigers Manager?”

I would like to think I am indispensable as the leader of the church I serve, but I know better. Nobody is indispensable. Twenty minutes after I carry out the last box of books from my office I expect they’ll be asking, “What’s next?”

That being said, maybe here are two changes I need to make: 

Make sure I am spending my time on eternal things. 

The only things that will follow me into eternity are my relationships, starting with my Heavenly Father, and the people that I am influencing for the Kingdom. Chief among those are my wife and my children. Jesus said, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his soul?” Years ago I heard a pastor say, “What good does it profit a pastor to gain the whole world, yet lose the souls of his children?”

Twenty minutes after the ink on my retirement papers is dry there will be someone thinking about forming a pulpit committee. My kids, though? They’re with me for eternity.

 Stop acting and thinking like every decision is a make or break moment. 

Here is the reality of ministry that your pastor lives with every day: the stakes are high. Eternally high. The eternal destinies of people hang in the balance between heaven and hell. Because the stakes are so high, it sometimes feels like every decision is critical to success or failure.

What topic should we cover in our next sermon series? What person should we hire for the ___________ position? How should we engage lost people this Christmas/Easter? These are important decisions, but the reality is that an occasional misstep is unlikely to bring the entire train to a grinding halt.

At his press conference today, Jim Leyland said, “When it's time, it's time . . . It's time to step down from the managerial position of the Detroit Tigers. ” I respect that. I hope that I will know when it is time, too. I hope I will do so with the same grace Leyland showed today.

And I hope I will do so knowing that I put first things first.

Why I wish you had signed your name

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At the conclusion of my sermon this past Sunday, I shared some thoughts about an anonymous note we received in the offering plate several weeks ago. There are several different schools of thought with respect to critical anonymous letters. Some pastors flat refuse to even read a letter that is unsigned. Not me. I read every correspondence that comes my way, and even those that are unsigned are sifted for any insights that might help move the church’s ministry forward. The authors of the note in question concluded with, “We have written this letter in hopes that it will be received in a way that will make the church leaders think a little.” I can’t speak for the rest of the church’s leaders, but it made me think. A lot.

The note was particularly critical, and I anguished about that it for a couple weeks. I don’t know if it was the author’s intention, or if he or she is even aware of the pain such critical comments cause a preacher. I am like many pastors in that it is hard to tell where I stop and where the church begins. (It’s nearing midnight after all, and I am sitting in my home office doing church work.) Rightly or wrongly – and it is probably more wrongly – I live and die with the successes and failures of our church.

Mostly though, I wish the author had signed his or her name. Here’s why:

1.     Signing your name means you are invested. An unsigned note says, “Here’s what’s wrong with your church.” Putting your name on the line, however, takes ownership – not just of the comments, critical or otherwise – but also of the church. Signing your name says, “This is our church, and I am concerned that there is something wrong with it.” Even if we disagree, I respect the author, and I respect the sincerity of his or her concerns because I trust his or her motives.

2.     Signing your name means we can have a conversation. An unsigned note is like a heckler at a baseball game. It is someone standing on the sidelines shouting onto the playing field. It is a cheap concession that he or she chooses to be drowned out by the din of the crowd rather than come close enough to have a conversation. It takes courage to close the distance enough to talk. It takes conviction to speak critically to someone with perceived spiritual authority. I get that. But the pastors, elders, and church staff I know want to have a conversation. We want to hear from people who disagree or who feel voiceless. We’re not looking for flatterers and “yes men,” because we know that it is sometimes the crucible of conflict that yields the strongest and brightest steel.

3.     Signing your name is how it is done in the family of God. Or at least it is how it should be. It’s how we do conflict in my family. If my wife and I disagree about something, we don’t send anonymous notes or pussyfoot around an issue. We get it on the table and deal with it. We might even fight – loudly at times – but, in the end, we’re family and we hash out whatever has us crosswise with one another and then we move on. And, in the end, we end up loving each other all the more.

4.     Signing your name is an act of worship. This might not have occurred to me had the letter not been placed in the Sunday morning offering tray. The weekly collection is an act of worship; tossing a critical letter in with the sacrificial gifts of the rest of the saints is defilement – plain and simple. But signing your name and delivering a critical letter into the hands of an overseer or staff member is a “choose this day whom you will serve” moment. It is a risk, both personal and spiritual. How will the ecclesial authorities react, after all? Accompanied by prayer and reflection, such a courageous response is an act of spiritual worship.

The author revealed in the letter that he (or she) feels ignored. Unheard. His (or her) comments revealed that there are probably legitimate concerns and that others might even share them. I hurt for him (or her). I wish I could offer some consolation and a listening hear and that, together, we could pursue some resolution that grows each of our faiths. But, unless something changes, that won't happen.

And that, Frankly Speaking, is regrettable.

The wisdom of Solomon

I wish I could show this tomorrow during my sermon on Solomon but, alas, it's gonna be a long sermon as it is!

Marching in rhythm

"Pastor, when will this church get moving again?"

"It feels like we are stuck!"

"There just doesn't seem to be any common vision . . ."

Every preacher has heard comments like these at one time or another, sometimes by the member who types out his or her frustrations and drops them in the offering plate (sans tithe). Sometimes they're left unsaid, but are expressed, instead, by conflicts and that nastiest of fights - the "church fight."

Reality #1 - There is nothing more exhilarating than the church of Jesus Christ accomplishing the mission of Jesus Christ. Seeing lives changed, marriages restored, bonds being loosed and destinies changed are the oxygen in ministry!

Reality #2 - There is nothing more frustrating than the church of Jesus Christ standing still. Unmoving. Stuck. Missionless.

When the church isn't moving, it has been my experience that the church is soon fighting. Movement is critical to church members being able to work together in harmony. Soldiers too long in camp invariably end up fighting one another. But put them into battle and their purpose becomes singular and makes an impact.

Jon Cook, the technology director at Great Lakes Christian College sent me the link to a YouTube video that illustrates this reality:

Robert Gonzales wrote about the video in his blog:

If you place 32 metronomes on a static object and set them rocking out of phase with one another, they will remain that way indefinitely. Place them on a moveable surface, however, and something very interesting (and very mesmerizing) happens.

The long and the short of it: metronomes that are on a static surface will never sync. But metronomes on a moving surface will eventually find a synonymous rhythm.

Christians in a static church will never sync either. But get the church moving - behind a unified mission - and eventually the church experiences extraordinary harmony.

Our church's Youth Pastor, Chad, told me something when he joined our team five years ago. He got it from someone else; I'm sure he told me who, but I've long since forgotten and just attribute it to his genius now. He said, "Either the church is on a mission, or the church is the mission." Put in the context of this video: the church on a mission experiences synchronization, but the church that has become the mission - that is, the static, unmoving church - is one of cacophony and discord.  

Cold meal . . . hot wife!

Mrs. Frankly and I recently discovered Alaska: The Last Frontier, one of the new shows on Discovery. It chronicles the exploits of the families of Atz and Otto Kilcher, two of Yule and Ruth Kilcher’s eight children. When Yule saw war clouds rising in Europe, the family patriarch moved the family to Alaska’s Kachemak Bay to escape Hitler’s war machine.

During a recent episode, Otto talked about his wife, Charlotte. He loves her – everything about her, it seems – except her cooking. She has little culinary ability. So Otto does a lot of the cooking.

Though his father has passed away, Otto recalled that once Yule dropped in at their home, and was surprised to find Otto in the kitchen cooking.

Yule asked Charlotte, “Where’s Otto?”

“In the kitchen.”

“In the kitchen!”

Finding Otto at the stove, the incredulous Yule asked his son, “Why are you cooking? You have a wife!”

Otto’s response is classic, and one that I will share with every engaged couple that attend one of our premarriage preparation classes. “I’d rather have a hot wife and a cold meal than a cold wife and a hot meal.”

Now there’s a man that gets it!

This is the body of Christ . . .

My friend, Jamie Wetzel, is the Administrative Minister at Meridian Christian Church. A week ago tonight I joined with he and several others from his church for an "Election Day Communion" service. It was an inspiring way to end the evening. Jamie's words so so exceptionally well crafted. They may be the finest "communion devotions" I have ever heard. With his permission, I share them with the readers of Frankly Speaking.

One of the main functions of this practice of Communion is to remind us of things that we have a tendency to forget. As we approach the table, it draws us back to the truths that we need to hold onto. So tonight, it is valuable to recall what we are doing as we gather around the table. 

We gather around the table: 

1. To remember the life that Jesus modeled for us and called us to. There’s a number of reasons why we get so tired of the election season, but one reason is because it has a tendency to turn otherwise nice people into raging hate-mongers. The sad thing is, followers of Jesus often fall into this trap as well. The reality is, we need a constant reminder that no matter the situation, we are to embody the same attitude as Christ. When we approach the table of the Lord, we see bread and juice and we are reminded of the life he modeled: a love for enemies, care for the broken and forgotten, denial of self, sacrificial humility instead of grasping for power. Communion then, reminds us of how we are to live in this world. 
2. To remember that the power of God is the hope of the world. It’s easy to get caught up in the hype during election season that a candidate, or an administration, or a country is the only hope for this world. So much so, that it’s implied if we go with “the other guys” then there will only come gloom and despair. We come to the table to remind ourselves of the truth, that only the power of God gives sight to the blind; only the power of God hears every cry of the oppressed; only the power of God made a spectacle of the powers and authorities at the cross; only the power of God raised Jesus from the dead; and ONLY the power of God can bring hope to this world. Communion reminds us that our hope is found in Jesus through the power of God. 
3. To remember our sin and the need to repent. We need the table to jar us back to the sobering reality that our sin has separated us from God, that it is real, and that it is serious. Communion places in our hands, for us to hold, and touch and eat, the tangible reminder that our sin deserves punishment. We are reminded that Jesus took that punishment upon himself, and allowed his body to be broken, and blood to be spilled from his body. We need the table to drive us back to repentance, over and over and over. And so we gather together so that we will never forget our sin. 
4. To remember that God’s grace is available to all. At the table, we are reminded that God does not show favoritism. We are reminded that God’s grace does not discriminate nor divide. The political parties tell us that if we are a woman we will align with them, or if we are a man, we will join them, but the table reminds us that male and female are welcome. The political parties tell us that the other guys are rich and greedy or poor and lazy, but the table calls out to the rich and the poor, “come.” The grace of God is open to all and shatters international boundaries, gender lines, social divisions, and political affiliations. Communion reminds us that we are not to deny to some what God has openly offered to all. 
5. To re-pledge our allegiance to Jesus. One of the things that bugs me about politics is that we are forced to choose between imperfect candidates. In order to choose a candidate that supports the issues we are passionate about, we have to compromise on the ones they support that we are uncomfortable with. Family values, social issues, economic strategies, and foreign policies are often all over the spectrum, and we have to vote using labels such as “the lesser of two evils.” 

What would it look like for a candidate who “remains faithful forever, upholds the cause of the oppressed, gives food to the hungry, sets prisoners free, gives sight to the blind, lifts up those who are bowed down, who loves the righteous, watches over the alien, sustains the fatherless and the widow, and frustrates the ways of the wicked”? 

How great would it be to put our trust in one who does all that he promises, and will reign in justice and righteousness, mercy and love? 

That candidate exists, and he’s already won the campaign, and his name is Jesus. There is no competition, there is no challenger, there is no recount. He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords. We come tonight to re-pledge our allegiance to him and him alone.

Thanks, Dad

At South Lansing Christian Church, we took a moment to say thank you, yesterday, to our veterans. Like you, I am incredibly grateful for the sacrifices that these fine men and women made on our behalf.

My dad is my favorite veteran. Dad served in the United States Navy Reserve right after high school. He was stationed on the USS Lowry, a destroyer that was an escort vessel to the USS Randolph, an aircraft carrier that operated in the Atlantic. Dad was part of history when he was on the Lowry.

They were just steaming into Norfolk, and were expecting leave when the Captain informed them that leave was cancelled, and they were to undergo emergency resupply and immediate deployment to Cuba. Apparently Khrushchev decided to put some missiles in Cuba and President Kennedy didn't think that was such a good idea. 

Dad said they headed into the Caribbean at full steam to take up station as part of the Cuban blockade. For days they zigzagged across the ocean, trailing a submerged contact. Eventually the sub they were tracking was forced to surface. Dad told me that seeing the hammer and sickle of the Soviet flag on the conning tower of that submarine was the most frightened he had ever been.

The November 1962 issue of Life magazine detailed those fateful thirteen days about that time that shows the Soviet submarine with my dad's ship in the foreground. I take pride in my dad's service, and in knowing that he was willing to lay down his life at such a crucial time in our nation's history.

Each of us knows a veteran. Take a moment today and call him or her up to say, "Thanks!"

A path home

Finally.

After Tuesday's stinging rejection Republican leaders are saying the GOP needs to tackle immigration reform. Its about time.

For too long, immigration reform has been a political football. If Social Security is "the third rail" that politicians have been afraid to touch, then immigration is the subway train. Mention "reform" and you run the risk of getting run over.

There haven't been many in the GOP that were willing to even consider a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants. The mere whisper of the idea sets off a howling chorus of "Amnesty! Amnesty!" among the far right. Out come the posters of the handful of immigrants who are convicted murderers. News reports of emergency rooms in border towns being overrun by uninsured Mexicans and South Americans run non-stop on Fox News.

I welcome the change -  even if any turnaround has more to do with the shifting demographics of the electorate than the call to "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free." If it takes 70% of the Hispanic vote marking their ballots with a big "D" to get Republicans to do the right thing then I'm all for it.

I know, I know. You're thinking: "I thought you said you weren't going to write about political issues; I thought you said that the election was over and it was time to move on." And you're right to note the inconsistency. But this is an issue I've been writing about for some time. In a post back in 2006 I wrote about the dilemma. I've been talking about it much longer.

My first mission trip was with Amor Ministries back in 1998. We traveled to Tijuana to build a house for a family living in a squalid border encampment. Their "home" was four garage doors salvaged from the local dump with a fifth laid across the top for a roof. It had a dirt floor. No running water. A backyard baño.

As hard as their life was, there was a family living up the street with one that was much harder. This family had a tiny seven-year-old daughter. Shorter than the rest of the neighborhood children; she couldn't have weighed forty pounds. Our team brought some gifts to her and the other neighborhood children. A toothbrush and toothpaste. Crayons. Coloring books. She was too sick to show much enthusiasm.

Through our interpreter we asked what was wrong, and learned that she had a heart defect. One that, if not corrected, would likely kill her before she became a teenager. It broke our hearts. We felt so powerless. And though we tried to make some contacts when we got back to the states, Indiana was too far away and were unable to connect with the right people to make anything happen.

I still wonder about that little girl.

The thing is, if that is my little girl, I swim any river, climb any fence; I do whatever I have to do to get her to an American doctor. Just across the border is a modern American city with the finest hospitals, and the finest doctors. Three miles north that little girl gets the heart surgery she needs to change her life. If all that separates my little girl from a life saving surgery is a line, you'd better not stand in the way, because I'd immigrate illegally, and so would you.

There has to be a common sense approach that allows us to embrace people that want a better life for their children. That's how you and I (read "white people") got here, after all. Some ancestor fled a potato famine or a repressive political system. A great-great-grandparent sacrificed and saved enough Shillings or Francs or Deustche Marks to get on a boat and sail west toward hope.

Given how great a body of water the Atlantic is, and how far our ancestors had to come, why are we surprised - and resentful - when someone wades across a drought-shallow Rio Grande?

I say we welcome any and all who will pledge their allegiance to the flag. Any and all who will work hard, pay their taxes, and raise their families to love this nation that has said, since 1903, "give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free."

For too long this issue has been a cauldron of political poison. What do you say we get back to the America our great-grandparents knew - not a boiling kettle of political frustration, but a hope-filled melting pot of ethnic diversity.

Now what?

Another election day is past and America has spoken - or at least 60% of registered voters have, according to initial reports.

Elections divide us. There are winners and losers. They put a spotlight on our differences. And although they provide the opportunity for sincere discussion and compromise, elections all too often end up devolving into partisan entrenchment. We dig in our heels and add fuel enhancer to our vocabularies. According to Rasmussen, about one out of every four people have had a relationship with a friend or family member negatively impacted by this year's election.

So what now? The reality is this: there are Democrats, Independents and Republicans in our church. There are supporters of both Obama and Romney among us. To our credit, we have kept the partisan discourse from dividing our church. But can we go beyond that and find common ground upon which to unite?

I think we can.

I think we can unite around the common purpose of "Connecting our community to God's story, one person at a time." I believe we can focus on our mission to “Help people write the next chapter of their faith story by providing environments where they can seek, study and serve God."

Let that be what unites us. Let the Lordship of Christ and the worship of our Heavenly Father provide the basis upon which we call ourselves siblings. In Christ there is "no division into Jew and non-Jew, slave and free, male and female. Among us you are all equal. That is, we are all in a common relationship with Jesus Christ."

Time to move on. Time to move forward with what really matters: the things that are eternal.

Almost over . . .

The most contentious, most important, most critical-to-our-nation election in the history of this week will be over in about 30 hours. You read that correctly. The most important election . . . this week.


I agree with Brian Roberts. This is not the most important election in the history of The United States. The most important election in the history of this country resulted in the election of Abraham Lincoln. Before that, people owned other people. This election is important, as are all elections. But the most important ever? Please.

Neither is it the most negative.

According to the New York Times, the elections of 1796 and 1800 were much nastier. Thomas Jefferson and John Adams hated one another. Obama's attacks on Romney's ties to Bain Capitol and the far right's obsession with Obama's birth certificate pale by comparison. Jefferson's opponents hated him so profoundly that they characterized him as

a mean-spirited, low-lived fellow, the son of a half-breed Indian squaw, sired by a Virginia mulatto father, as was well known in the neighborhood where he was raised, wholly on hoe-cake (made of coarse-ground Southern corn), bacon, and hominy, with an occasional change of fricasseed bullfrog, for which abominable reptiles he had acquired a taste during his residence among the French.

No, this is nowhere near the nastiest election ever.

That probably comes as little consolation to the three of every ten people that say the election has caused more stress in their families. According to a Rasmussen poll, 1 out of every 4 people say that "the upcoming election has negatively affected their personal relationship with a friend or family member." Nearly half (45%) say they have "gotten into a heated argument with a friend or family member."

I have not.

I've tiptoed, side-stepped and danced my way around the election so frequently that I'm about to qualify for a spot on dancing with the stars. I've perfected the art of the pastoral two-step, managing to keep my friendships and my family intact.

Its not that I don't have some opinions; I do. I just keep them to myself.

Its a shame, too. Though we live in a country where freedom speech is celebrated, we somehow have become far less generous to the speakers.

The fact is, I ought to be able to have a conversation with my left-wing, lily-livered, liberal whack-job friends without fear of losing said friendship. I should be able to talk about why they want to protect trees but not babies, and they should be able to ask me why I want to kill guys who are locked up for murder, but not allow people trapped in bodies riddled with Lou Gherig's disease to take their own life.

It shouldn't matter if I vote for the big business, tax-the-middle-class-but-give-a-pass-to-millionaires, woman-hating, racist, war-mongering Mitt Romney. or the freedom-destroying, tree-hugging, baby-killing, gay-marriage-supporting, maybe-he-is-or-maybe-he-isn't-a-citizen Barack Obama. Either way, I should be able to have a civil conversation with someone on the opposite side of the fence without lowering my opinion of my friend or raising my blood pressure.

But, it seems we cannot.

At least it will all be over soon. Then maybe we can get to work repairing those strained relationships in time for the Thanksgiving Day family reunion.

God's Story

South Lansing Christian Church recently adopted 5 Core Values. Over the course of the next five weeks I will write about each of these Core Values at Frankly Speaking.

Core Value: God's Story

I love a good story. A damsel in distress; a down-on-his-luck guy who finally makes it big; the ugly duckling that becomes a beautiful swan. The stories that touch our lives are stories of redemption. Frodo journeys to Mordor and casts a malevolent ring into Mt. Doom and saves Middle Earth. Luke confronts the Emperor and redeems his father, Darth Vader. Vivian meets the charming billionaire, Edward, and trades in her hip boots and tube top for Jimmy Chu and Vera Wang.

But then there is reality. And the reality is this: your story ain’t no fairytale. You’ve lived life long enough to know that you’re not going to pick the Powerball. You aren’t going to bump into your date from the Senior Prom on New Year’s Eve. If your story is like a lot of people’s, it is filled with clogged drains and broken fan belts. It's characters include domineering bosses and disappointed spouses. The chapters contain mountains and valleys, success and failures.

And in between the running toilets and runny noses – if you’re like a lot of people – you probably sometimes wonder how your story is going to turn out. Late at night when you’re lying in bed with just your thoughts, maybe you wish you could skip ahead to the end to see how your story turns out. Because if you knew how this story ended, it would help you write the next chapter. It would not only reassure you that your story is worth writing and worth telling, but it would help make sense of some of the more difficult chapters that you face.

For as long as I can remember, I thought God's story began in Genesis. "In the beginning" are the first three words of the English Bible, after all. It turns out, though, that there is one other place where we read, "In the beginning," and though it was written centuries after the Genesis account it, nevertheless, writes of events that precede the creation of the earth by an untold number of years / centuries / eons.

John wrote, "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning."

Turns out there is no beginning to God's story, just as there will be no end. All of creation, all of time, all of it is God's story. And the most amazing part of His story is that He invites us to enter into it. God wants us in His story.

You see, it is all about Him. And when you and I rightly understand that our best story is the one in which God is the main character, life begins to make more sense. It begins to be lived with a sense of purpose and destiny.

Jesus is the beginning and end. Revealed in His Word, God invites each of us to enter into His story and, through the power of the Holy Spirit, enables us to bear witness to that story and invite others to enter into it.

Practically, that has at least two implications.

First, when my story connects with God’s story or, more precisely, when I find myself in God’s story, something holy happens. Life begins to make sense. Life begins to have a purpose. When I begin to see God as the main character in my story, then life takes on a completely new dimension. Not only that, but, when my story connects with your story and God's story, that is where we find the church. That's where our story happens.

The second implication is a bit more personal. It is simply this: your story is not over. You and I have no say in the beginning of our stories. But we can have an effect in the ending. Maybe your story has a crummy beginning. Broken home. Unwanted pregnancy. Neglect Abuse. Here's the reality: no matter how lousy the beginning of your story was, God wants to write an amazing end.

What is more, it doesn't matter if you've had some miserable chapters along the way. Maybe you've struggled with addiction. Maybe you've left a trail of severed relationships and broken promises. The beauty of entering into God's story is that you can start right now and write a new chapter that leads to a different ending.

That is the beauty of entering into God's story - this epic adventure without beginning or end in which all who make Jesus the central character of their story write for themselves a story that transcends earth and time!

Taking the risk

When Chicago Cub second baseman Darwin Barney had a hot ground ball two hop its way through the infield grass Friday night, he had a lot to lose. For 141 consecutive games, Barney has patrolled the clay between first and second base with perfection. Not since Ryne Sandberg have Cub fans witnessed such diamond wizardry at second.

Coming into Friday night's game Barney was just nine innings away from breaking Placido Polanco's Major League record for consecutive error free games. When Justin Upton's sharp ground ball forced Barney to range far to his right, he was able to cut the ball off. And, had he just pocketed the ball, his streak would have been intact. It was ruled a hit by the official scorer after all was said and done.

But Barney is a gamer. So, with his momentum carrying him away from first baseman Anthony Rizzo, Barney turned and fired at first base, attempting to throw Upton out. Unfortunately, the ball was poorly thrown, and Rizzo was unable to pick the ball out of the dirt. As the ball squirted beneath his glove, Aaron Hill was able to score from third, having already advanced from second base on the ground ball.

And Barney was charged with a throwing error.

Streak over.

The thing is, nobody would have thought twice if Barney would have simply held onto the ball. I can't tell you the number of times, while coaching my son's little league team, I've shouted to a fielder in the exact same circumstances, "Eat it!"

Just hold onto the ball, Barney, and the runner will have to hold at third. But, more importantly, the streak will be intact. Just three more outs and your name goes in the record book and your glove goes to Cooperstown.

But that is not the way Darwin Barney plays the game. He plays all out. He takes risks. Even risks that have the potential to hurt him, personally, if they will benefit the team, corporately.

After the game, when asked about the end of the streak, Yahoo Sports reported Barney saying,

I've got to make that play. . . It was 5-3 at the time. We're in that ballgame. My job is to make plays regardless of taking risk and I think I've done that through this whole little run. That's just how you play the game. You can't hold that ball right there."

My job is to make plays regardless of taking risks.

I love that.

I wonder how many times I have avoided taking a risk that might benefit my team because the personal downside was too precarious?

Of course, there are those who will point out the hapless Cub's record. They're closing in an 100 losses  this season, after all. Why bother with perfection when your team is 36 games out of first place?

But I would argue that makes his pursuit of personal achievement even more significant, just as it makes the risk he took Friday night more noble. Whenever I subordinate what benefits me to what benefits the team we win even if I lose.

Way to go, Darwin Barney! Thanks for the inspiration, the reminder.

Now, if the Cubs could get a few more guys that field like Darwin Barney and hit like Justin Upton. Can I get an "Amen" from Mark Christian and the Sprunger brothers?

Christians have hotter sex?

When my friend Dave sent me a link to an article from Psychology Today with the the title "Do Religious People Have a Hotter Sex Life?" it got my attention. I am in the midst of a three-week sermon series that is focused on women and that the third of these sermons addresses how men and women relate in the bedroom.

And then there is my choice in vocation. Most would agree that a pastor qualifies as a "religious person," so it would appear that the article speaks directly to my profession.

Then again, not quite the way I thought it would.

In short, the article suggests that religious people are having lots of sex. Just not with their spouses, unfortunately. Dr. Nigel Barber, the article's author, has the research to back up his claims. Consider these troubling statistics:

• A study of people that have sex in public restrooms reveals that the "typical" participant is "married and religious."
• Residents of highly religious states spend more time viewing internet porn than do the residents of less religious states.
• A study showed that the level of agreement with the statement, "Even today miracles are performed by the power of God" was associated with higher pornography consumption.
• States that have banned gay marriage have 11 percent more porn subscribers.
• Finally, residents of states that claim to adhere to old-fashioned family values purchase considerably more porn than those that do not.

Why the inconsistency?

Dr. Barber suggests that one of the causes might be what psychologists call "the white bear effect." That is, tell someone not to think about a white bear, and that becomes all they can think about. With regard to sex, he opines that a similar effect may be at work. The more religions tell people not to engage in illicit sex, the more they want to do so.

Although Dr. Barber might disagree - he recently authored the book Why Atheism Will Replace Religion - I think there is something deeper at work here. A spiritual dimension. Christians call it, "spiritual warfare." The Apostle Paul put it this way:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

The church of Christ in ancient Corinth knew something about spiritual warfare.  In his letter to these Christians who were acting as salt and light in a culture that was imbued with sexual licentiousness, Paul urged his fellow Christ-followers to win the battle of the mind. He told them to "take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ." 

In this respect, maybe Dr. Barber is on to something. The solution is not simply, "try not to think about it." But rather to embrace sexual thinking; to acknowledge the thoughts and redirect them. To take them captive.

For too long Christians have tried to refrain from indulging their sexual appetites when, in fact, we need, instead, to retrain them on the spouses that God gives us to enjoy. Here again, Paul speaks to this:

   Now regarding the questions you asked in your letter. Yes, it is good to abstain from sexual relations. But because there is so much sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife, and each woman should have her own husband.   The husband should fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should fulfill her husband’s needs. The wife gives authority over her body to her husband, and the husband gives authority over his body to his wife.   Do not deprive each other of sexual relations, unless you both agree to refrain from sexual intimacy for a limited time so you can give yourselves more completely to prayer. Afterward, you should come together again so that Satan won’t be able to tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

 In short, Paul counsels the Christian husband and wife to have sex, and lots of it.

It would be interesting, and probably more than a little illuminating, to learn how the level of sexual satisfaction within a Christian marriage relates to the statistics cited in the aforementioned article. I frequently tell couples that each of them is their spouse's first and best line of defense against sexual temptation. In other words, something that our great-grandparents said is probably quite true: when the home fires burn brightly, a man (or woman) is less likely to seek warmth somewhere else.

 I suggest you and your spouse test that theory out. Frequently.