No More Virgin Births

           I use to think that all babies came into this world the same way Jesus did. God put 

the baby inside the mother's stomach (womb), the baby grew inside the woman and finally 

entered into the world. I will never forget my fellow freshman in the college dorm telling me 

that was not how babies were made.

            I'm kidding! That's a joke.

            Actually, I learned at age 7 that my view of bringing babies into this world was incorrect–thanks to some older boys that I hung around with.

            It took a while to fully appreciate this, but in time I realized that while God was involved in the birth of every baby, so were human beings–the father and mother. Through the years I have continued to marvel that God would work through people to bring babies into this world. That is how he has chosen to empower the fulfillment of his commandment for the human race to be fruitful and multiply (see Gen. 1-2.)

            God has another commandment for people in his Kingdom. It is to be spiritually fruitful and multiply.

            As with physical births, God chooses to deliver spiritual babies in a process that involves people. God chooses to bring spiritual babies into his Kingdom through a process using people. Just like a physical birth requires a human father and mother (except for Jesus), so too a spiritual birth requires human participation in the process.

            Many Christians act as if they belief God alone will bring people into His Kingdom. He could, of course, but he chooses not too. There was only one virgin birth—and it is over and done with.

              All Christians I have known, who married and desired children, completely understood that they must participate in the process. Many Christians I have known who desire to see spiritual children fail to realize that they too must participate in the process.

            Jesus calls for us to go into all the world and make disciples, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This can be a burden, or it can be an enjoyable process. We love, we serve, and we teach people about Jesus. What a blessing to participate in God’s mission of helping people to be born… again.

Hold That Tray!

            John Brodie was pro football’s first player to sign a million dollar contract. His career spanned from the late fifties to the early seventies. During his prime, he was without doubt one of the great quarterbacks in the game.

            In the mid-sixties, Brodie and the old American Football League’s franchise, the Houston Oilers, arranged a deal which called for him to switch leagues and join the Oilers. It was this transaction that helped to cause the merger between the National Football League and the AFL.

            Because of his success, a reporter decided to goad Brodie a little during a particular press conference. The reporter asked Brodie why it was that a million dollar quarterback had to hold the football on field goals and extra-points. "Well," Brodie replied, "If I didn't, it would fall over."

            I always like that story, and it gave me encouragement yesterday morning when I was asked to serve the trays for our communion service. As silly as it sounds, serving “on the table” made me feel apprehensive. It had been almost thirty years since I had done that. I knew there were always risks involved in serving communion.

            When I was a kid, one of our members accidentally dropped the trays of grape juice he was holding, shattering the glass cups. The preacher tried to pass off the situation lightly with some humor, but the guy was so embarrassed, he never came back.

            I did not want to make a mistake in front of a lot of people, but risks notwithstanding, I decided to accept the challenge. After all, if nobody were to "hold the ball", “it would fall over.” 

            I knew the guys who were given the responsibility to locate people to help during the assembly. They always had a hard time finding folks to serve.

            Moreover, and I hope this does not sound presumptuous, but I thought it would be good for my kids to see me serve the church in another way besides being the preacher. So far my transition out of the pulpit has gone well, and I have been very pleased that my kids are identifying me in a role unique to them—“regular” member. You see, for as long as my kids have known me, I have been the preacher of their church.

            Our fellowship, comparatively speaking, is pretty good about not holding preachers on too high a pedestal, but even in our fellowship, there is something distinctive about the position of pulpit minister. I DO want my kids to nail down the fact that I'm a disciple first—not a preacher.

            That can be hard, particularly when their friends do not view things that way. At Shiloh, we are blessed with a large campus and many wonderful facilities, which people of the community use literally everyday. Last July, during our Vacation Bible School, one my son's elementary school friends (who does not attend a church) visited.

            One night, he emphatically stated to the children of his VBS class, “Timothy's dad owns all of this!” Of course, we know Jesus owns it; we're just marking time attempting to become more like him.

            Having stated that my kids (and their friends!) need to see me as a disciple first, I know I do as well. As I wrote a few weeks ago in this blog, I have loved preaching so much. Earlier this year I became concerned preaching may have become an idol for me. I know how crucial it is that I view myself as a disciple first, and not a preacher.

            As silly as it sounds, serving the communion trays-with all of its risks-was another opportunity to allow myself to be tested. I knew it was a good probe into my heart.

            Subsequently, I passed out the trays. Thankfully, I do not think I disrupted the service. I did not pass the trays to the wrong person. I did not drop grape juice.

            I think I passed the physical test of serving during communion.

            I hope I also passed the spiritual test of my heart.

            

The Man on the Moon

            I’m sorry Neil Armstrong will not live to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of his footsteps on the moon. He missed it by seven years.

            Neil Armstrong, for me, is not simply a photo in the history books or in the newspapers. He is a living being inside my mind. I can ever yet see him as a 39-year-old in 1969 flying to and from the moon. The memory is indistinguishable from my ninth birthday party of that year. That’s because in a way, I participated in both.

            My dad bought our first color TV a few days before the launch of Apollo 11 in July, 1969. It was summer, so I watched almost every moment of the CBS telecast of the mission.

            Perhaps, because I was a child, what seemed so incomprehensible to adults seemed so comprehensible to me. A chorale group from an orphans’ home was singing at our church that weekend; at an afternoon reception, everyone stopped and watched as a portable TV was brought out and NBC announced that the EAGLE had landed.

            Later that night, my parents, our houseguests, and I watched in wonder and fascination as Neil Armstrong descended from the ladder of the lunar module… and then he was on the moon.

            At some point in the two-hour plus spacewalk of Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, I fell asleep. I awoke during the historic phone call from President Richard Nixon to the astronauts.

            Observing this conversation in my post-nap haze seemed dreamlike. Perhaps that is the best word to describe the Apollo 11 mission—dreamlike. For centuries humans aspired to travel to the moon, but that night four decades ago, the dream was fulfilled. And I was there.

            I consider it a privilege to experience my childhood during the sixties. I owe Neil Armstrong a debt for taking me along with him on his incredible voyage.

            In the ensuing years after his moonwalk, critics would chastise Armstrong for not viewing his space event more romantically. He never claimed to be a poet; he was simply an engineer. Ironically, in the minds of succeeding generations, the words, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind" form one of the most poetic sentences ever uttered.

            Twice Armstrong faced close calls in space. Once, nearly spinning to his death in Gemini 8, and the second time, coming without seconds of running out of fuel landing the lunar module on the moon. In both cases, his cool, analytical, engineer’s brain manufactured solutions to his life-threatening problems. Nevertheless, Armstrong was no unfeeling automaton.

            Several years ago, I read James Hansen’s excellent biography of Neil Armstrong, FIRST MAN. In his book, Hansen peels away the layers of the complex man to reveal not only a gifted, rational thinker, but also a husband and father with feelings and emotions. Here is how I put it in a post I wrote in 2009:  

         One of the interesting aspects of Armstrong's life that this book [FIRST MAN] reveals is the tender heart that he had for his daughter, Karen. She died as a child of a brain tumor [in the early 1960s]. The event shattered Armstrong emotionally, and he never fully recovered.

            [After Karen’s death and] after the successful Apollo 11 spaceflight, the mission's astronauts toured the world. While in London, England, crowds mobbed the astronauts.

            At a barrier, which separated the astronauts from the people, a little girl found herself pressed against the obstruction. Frightened, she began to cry.

            Armstrong picked up the girl, hugged her, soothed her emotions with kind words, and kissed her. An enterprising photographer snapped the picture and newspapers around the world ran it.

            The press noted that this intimacy was out of character for Armstrong and were puzzled by this display. Hansen writes that it was no coincidence. The girl was the age of Armstrong's daughter when Karen had passed away.

             

            Rest in peace, Neil Armstrong.

Photo courtesy of NASA.gov            

A Historical Bad Rap

            He literally saved millions of people from starvation. He did so twice, leading food relief efforts after World War I and World War II.

            In Finland, his work rescuing people from starvation was so noble, his last name became a verb, meaning “to help.”

            It was because of his heart for humanity, not to mention his amazing administrative ability and his unselfish devotion to serving his fellow man, that he was elected president of the United States in 1928.

            Tragically, just a few months into office, the stock market crashed (the fault of which was not his own) and the Great Depression began.

            He was audacious in attempting to address the needs of people, creating many new programs. Yet, struggling with a recalcitrant Congress, he made little headway in alleviating the Great Depression. For this reason, he was thrown out of office in the election of 1932.

            Sadly, during the Great Depression, his name took on a different connotation here in the United States than it did in Finland. It morphed into a word describing locations where poor people lived. Decades later, a popular musical, “Annie”, would casually ridicule him in their songs.

            When it comes to judging a man, society does not always get it right. Unfortunately, popular culture sometimes brands a person in an unfair way that does not reflect truth when describing a person's overall life.

            This was certainly the case with Herbert Hoover. Herbert Hoover was a compassionate man who served humanity for over 90 years. One event overshadowed him. He became identified with it, and that became his legacy.

            I think that is sad. History seems unconcerned with my sympathy.

            Strangely enough, Scripture sometimes seems unconcerned about the legacy of God’s people, but here is the catch. In the Bible, God is held as the standard. Humans are viewed as flawed beings, especially when compared with God. In the Bible, there is God—then there is everyone else.

            The Bible has no qualms about sharing personal information concerning God's community of faith. Today, were we preachers to relate similar flaws at someone’s funeral, people would gasp and consider it in bad taste.

            God’s word does not share our unease. You can check out the legacies of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Peter to name a few. You have the good, and you have the awfully ugly.

            God's word is not concerned about burnishing the reputation of the people of the Bible; rather, it is more concerned about elevating and glorifying the name of God.

Reflections on Kingdom Work

            In Kingdom work, God is the constant; we are the variable. Read the Bible, and after all is said and done, God is the Hero of the story. We have the opportunity to embrace him and jump on board with his wonderful Kingdom activity.

            I know many of you read out of the version of the Bible called “The Message.” Eugene Peterson translated that. He’s written a lot of good books about God and Scripture. In one of them, CHRIST PLAYS IN 10,000 PLACES, he wrote something that absolutely inspired my imagination.

            In John Mark’s gospel, Peter is the prominent apostle. Peter appears to have the potential to move into place alongside Jesus. Then the wheels come off of Peter’s life. Peter does not become the lead apostle; instead, Mark portrays Peter as the lead sinner.

            Peter stays out of the limelight. That spot is reserved for Jesus alone. In Mark, there is only one hero–and he is Jesus.

            The incredible thing about this is we think we know where John Mark got his material–from Peter, who mentored him. And we think a significant influence on John Mark’s gospel were the sermons he heard Peter preach.

             I am absolutely blown away by that. Peter embraced the fact that Jesus stood alone as the hero, and he had absolutely no problem with us knowing that he was a sinner. Yet, Jesus reached out to Peter; Jesus called him, and Jesus was faithful to him.

            God is such an overwhelming hero in the Bible; he easily overshadows—and overcomes—the weaknesses of the people who follow him. So we do not even have to attempt to be cardboard cutouts of saints. We can simply be ourselves.

            As a matter of fact, the more real we are with God and with each other, the more he can form us into the image of his Son. We don’t have anything to be afraid of, and we have a lot to look forward to. It is exciting to watch God work in our lives.

            As I process what is next for me in my own life, I recognize the fact that some of you changed majors in college. Some of you graduated with a degree in one field, and God steered you to another. Some of you started in one career, and God led you to another. That is the exciting thing about God… he is always working on us and through us, to carry out his story and his purpose.

            Did you know that some of our greatest discoveries and inventions have occurred as a serendipity of the original intent of the discoverer? Alexander Graham Bell invented an instrument to inform people of the arrival of telegrams. He did not realize it would become the telephone.

            An Italian explorer sailed across the Atlantic Ocean hoping to find a new route to India and enrich himself trading for spices. Christopher Columbus, instead, discovered a new world, which literally led to seismic shifts in geography, world power, and, literally, worldview.

            All of these serve as a nice symbols of the Christian’s walk with God. Whether they are true failures or unplanned directional turns, Scripture teaches us God can work through both. This truth lends an atmosphere of excitement to the Christian journey. As my former colleague, Tim Henderson, put it in one of his blogs, “It is better living to be watching for the unexpected than expecting the living to follow our plan. May you enjoy a life of watching God do more than you can explain or imagine.”

                        

Reflections on Leaving the Pulpit

             I only thought that resigning from my job was important.

            Judy and I picked last Wednesday as the day to tell our four kids I was leaving full time preaching. We were traveling to Cleburne for a speaking engagement, and the entire family was going with me.

            I was almost two thirds of the way through my story—telling about our decision and what it involved—when we passed by my son’s elementary school, Andy Woods.

            With great excitement, Timothy interrupted me (as I was sharing from my heart) with this exclamation, “Guys! Look! Look over there!” (Pointing out the window of our Suburban toward the school.)

            My oldest daughter, Haleigh, tried to shush him, “Be quiet, Timothy, daddy’s trying to talk to us.”

            “I’m sorry,” Timothy shouted, “but look! They’re cutting down a tree! They’re cutting down a tree!”

            I had to admit that his news earned the right for him to gain the floor. There are always going to be life-altering decisions, but it is not everyday you get to see someone cut down a big tree at your school.

            I was grateful for the much needed perspective.

            Speaking of perspective, I have received some good questions since I announced yesterday that I was stepping down from Shiloh’s pulpit. So I thought it would be helpful to add some context and clarification to my thoughts expressed in my letter of resignation, which I posted on my FB page.

            First, there are many variables involved in my decision. On a more personal note, I offered the Lord my retirement from preaching last month while on a mountain in Colorado on Wilderness Expedition.

            Last Spring, as Shiloh was looking at the book of Hebrews, I wrestled with the question of whether or not Jesus was my anchor (Heb. 6.) As I focused on the Christians struggling with attacks on their faith, I could not help but think about how easy I had it Shiloh. Oh, sure, we faced problems, but so do all churches. Had preaching become an idol to me? Was I a "preacher" more than a disciple of Jesus?

            In many ways, I believe the Lord has responded to my offer to “retire” by making it clear to me that he accepts it. I am at peace with this decision.

            Granted, I don’t want to be stubborn or obstinate about preaching. If I am convinced God wants me back in the pulpit, I will answer the call.

            Second, since I announced that in the immediate future I would be doing a lot of writing, I think some people got the idea that I plan on making a career out of it. I would love to have the privilege; however, I fully recognize how unrealistic that is.

            I still have a file containing a book I completed 20 years ago, which no publishing company wanted to publish. (The meanies!)

            I have three books floating around in my head that I’ve wanted to work on for quite a while. I am going to use the time I have available to do so.

            I would love for the Lord to allow one to be published, but if not, I can store the manuscripts. I write for a lot of reasons… one being the sheer enjoyment of it.           

            Third, since our family would like to remain in Tyler and at Shiloh, I am pursuing other career fields, which would keep me here. I’ve got some ideas, and I will investigate them.

            I am excited about the present. I am so thankful that I have elders who love me and are so supportive of me during this time.  No matter what I end up doing, my prayer is that it will be pleasing to the Lord and in fitting with his mission for my life and transformation.

           

           

Spiritual Reflection on THE DARK KNIGHT RISES

Spoiler Alert! If you have not seen this movie, do not read this article. I might ruin it for you.

            Imagine a story about someone who left a world of unimaginably great riches to go and dwell with a very fallen people-marred by the effects of sin-in a very fallen world. He fights the greatest evil, and apparantly is overwhelmed by it. He descends into a hellish abyss, and is seemingly dead forever.

            Remarkably, after a period of time, he overcomes the evil of that hellhole and rises again. He overcomes the Evil One and all of the evil minions and rescues a very fallen people from the full effect of all that evil. Indeed, he gives them hope for a new life.

            I am of course talking about Jesus and the Gospel story. Although that description, I guess, captures the essential plot of The Dark Knight Rises as well.

            Over and over in great movies and books, I see artists take biblical stories and rework them in a thinly disguised way. I wonder what would happen if God ever decided to sue for plagiarism.

            Maybe God feels complimented because people keep using his material.

            For whatever it is worth, I really liked the movie.