Somewhere I heard that today is the anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley.  I never was a fan, but I do remember the day he died, because I was driving to Indianapolis to begin classes at Christian Theological Seminary.

I was taking two days to drive from Washington to Indianapolis, and veered slightly off course to spend the night with a friend in Akron, Ohio along the way.  He was a Disciples pastor, maybe 15 years older than me, and was a graduate of CTS himself.

Back on the road the second day, the radio carried constant reports of the death of “The King.”  It was amazing that so much airtime was devoted to the news, but I subsequently have met a few of his devotees, and their passion is real.  I even knew one guy who was something of an Elvis impersonator, and watched him in the role in a church production of “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.”  In that scene, my friend Ron WAS Elvis.

So, my ministry has been entirely post-Elvis.  Much has changed in the world over the past thirty years.   Disco was on the way out, other music styles have come and gone.  Wars have been fought on several continents; some are being fought today.  Attitudes about gender roles and race continue to evolve; family configurations are often more complex; the ways we entertain ourselves and communicate have changed beyond anyone’s imagination, and the air is filled with an exploding multiplicity of signals, waves and impulses.

But, the basic human yearnings for meaning and love remain the same.  Despite emptier pews, the witness of the church still is necessary – and still called for by God.

Another thing that has not changed is that Elvis still earns hundreds of millions of dollars every year. 

Time marches on.  There are only two surviving Beatles, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr.  Each has seen his 65^th birthday come and go.  More than forty years ago the Beatles took America by storm, and seeing the black and white film clips of their arrival in New York, and their famous appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, one has the sense of ancient history.  But, surely, everyone understands the impact and cultural significance of “the Fab Four.”

Perhaps not.

Ringo actually once played the role of the miniature railroad conductor on the PBS children’s program, Thomas the Tank Engine.   During his stint on the program, a young reporter interviewed Ringo and asked, “Have you done other things in the entertainment industry before getting this role?”   Ringo replied, “I was in a band.”  How did she not know?

In the analysis of the decline of the church in North America over the past forty years or more, the observation is made by various writers that church participation and even the Christian faith itself often were viewed as inherent to the prevailing culture, and that “everyone” understood what the faith and the church were all about.  Being an American meant being a Christian in this mindset.

The consequence of this assumption was that faith formation became a very low priority in the church.  The attitude of many churches became, “If everyone already was up to speed, why spend time teaching people something they already knew?”  It turned into a famine AND a drought, when it came to teaching and learning the faith.  What was assumed never was known in the first place, and now generations have come along with minimal attention to spiritual growth and strength in their lives.  Individuals, the church, communities, and the world suffer as a result.

Many people have no reasonable idea what the faith is about.  They don’t know one church from another.  Folks may or may not ever guess that spiritual health is important, let alone possible. 

A great challenge for the church is, “Are we equipped to help them?”  Do we even take it seriously enough ourselves?

On Sunday I invited my congregation to take few moments this week to go outside after dark and look up at the night sky.  Notice the stars and begin to count them.  Pretty soon you will lose track or simply be overwhelmed by how many are visible to you.  Think about how far space extends.  Is there an end point?  What is beyond that?  Are there any limits?

When God called Abram, later known as Abraham, to leave his home and his father -- everything familiar to him -- and go to a place God would show him, God promised that Abram and his heirs would inherit a new home.  Not only that, Abram's heirs would number more than the stars in the heavens.  You can read about this in Genesis 12.

I think this is an apt image for people of faith today.  Not that we'll have innumerable offspring and take over the world, but that the possibilities before us, because of God's love, are endless.  Just like the number of stars and the distance of space.

Our tendancy is to narrow things down, to make it all manageable, to think in terms too small.

This is played out in the church when we spend more time on organizational issues and business than we do on spiritual growth.  We are distracted by the smaller matters and miss the opportunities of larger concerns, namely a deepening relationship with God, and ministry in the name of Jesus Christ.

Abraham and his family were called to make God known, and to be a blessing to others.  

We are heirs of Abraham.  Look up at the night sky and remember what that means. 

Today is the birthday of our older son, Gabe.  He was born 25 years ago in Augusta, Georgia, which coincidentally also is my wife’s birthplace.  We were watching a late-night rerun of the old George Burns television show when the moment arrived for us to dash to the hospital.

Arriving around 2:00 a.m., we ended up doing Lamaze during nine hours of labor.  The decision was made, though, that Gabe would be born by C-section.  Everything went well, and around 11:19 a.m., he came into the world.  I am pleased to say I was present in the operating room, and held Gabe moments after his birth.

We were the first parents in our Lamaze class, and I attended the next meeting wearing my “It’s a BOY!” button.  The other parents-to-be asked numerous questions about the experience.   When I mentioned that Mary would be in the hospital for a few days, one fellow in the group inquired about a reality that just that moment dawned on him.  “Who’s going to fix your supper?” he asked, with just a trace of fear in his voice and face.  I hope he got that worked out.

Happy Birthday, Gabe.  You have been a source of joy for 25 years.

It’s always interesting to encounter someone whose name somehow relates to his or her vocation.  There are numerous physicians in the world named Dr. Payne.  Clergy whose last name is Lord, Divine, or even Christ have climbed into pulpits.  You, no doubt, have your own examples.   Butler, Miller, Driver, Friend, Smith, Moody, and so many others are descriptive names, and one wonders about their origins.  We give nicknames to people, also as a way of expressing characteristics or qualities discerned in their appearance, personalities or behavior:  Hoss, Slim, Lefty, Grumpy, etc.

One time, a co-worker and I tried to assist a couple of ladies experiencing car trouble as they left the garage behind our building.  We really didn’t know enough to get them on their way, and they finally called for a tow truck.  The fellow who showed up had a nameplate on his shirt.  Rather than “Tom” or “Skip,” it read, “Donkeyman.”   I thought that was pretty funny.  I nudged my co-worker, he saw it, and we both laughed.

Donkeyman said, “Are you guys laughing at my name?”  I replied, “Sorry, man, but I never saw anything like that before.”  He really didn’t seem all that upset.  Unfortunately, it was one of those times when once you start laughing everything compounds it until you lose all control.

Donkeyman decided that the other guy and I should push the car out of the garage into the alley, with him steering, so we could get the car in place for an attempt at jump-starting the battery.  So, that’s what we did -- as we laughed and made silly comments.  The two ladies seemed confused as to why we were enjoying this so much.

Finally, we had the car backed into the alley, but Donkeyman felt he still needed a better angle in order to connect the cables.  So, he got back into the car.  We resumed pushing, this time from the rear, but couldn’t budge the car.  I yelled, “Hey, Donkeyman!  What gives?  You got your foot on the brake or somethin’?”  We were doubled over with laughter.  He said, “Oh, sorry! I put it in park instead of neutral.”  We were hysterical by then, and, gasping for breath, I said to the other guy, “Hence, the name.”

Biblical names, of people and places, often describe an encounter with God or a call to God’s purpose.  In Exodus 17, there is a story of one of the struggles of God’s people as they moved through the wilderness on their forty-year journey to the Promised Land.  They were short of water and patience – with Moses and God.  Read the story to find out what happened.  Moses “called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’”  (NRSV)  According to footnotes, those two names mean “test” and “quarrel.”

Abram, Sarai, Jacob, Simon, Saul and others underwent name changes as God or Jesus called them to particular purposes.  Some of the adherents of the beliefs and approaches of Alexander Campbell, the shining light among my denomination’s forbears, were referred to as “Campbellites.”

What does it mean when we adopt the name “Christian” for ourselves?

Is it a name we bear in the presence of all, or just a select few?

Seeing a quote from Marion Barry, where he said, “It’s good to have a good God, a good lawyer and a good judge,” reminded me again how complex human beings can be.  The quote was in response to a favorable court ruling regarding tax troubles of the former mayor of Washington, DC.

Another quote, which I won’t repeat here, will forever be linked to Barry.  It was uttered when he secretly was videotaped in a hotel room with a woman not his wife, indulging in drug abuse.  That sealed his fate as fodder for outraged commentators and late night television comedians.  It was a sad period for Barry and the residents of the nation’s capital.

I remember Marion Barry from his college days in Tennessee and his involvement in the civil rights movement.  I watched his political ascent as a city council member and as mayor.  It was disheartening to many, many people when his personal demons became public knowledge.  I don’t know how many times he was re-elected mayor of D.C., even despite his legal and moral struggles.  The City Paper, a local Washington publication, sarcastically dubbed Barry “Mayor for Life,” and that is how they referred to him in articles.

On the other hand, though, at least part of Marion Barry’s ability to survive politically despite his difficulties and misdeeds was that he took care of the people.  The people on the street knew that Mayor Barry cared for them, as expressed in various programs he initiated to meet their needs.   I once had a fairly close encounter with this aspect of this complex human being.

During one of Barry’s terms as mayor, I appealed to him for his help, and he came through.  I was the Executive Director of William Penn House, a Quaker seminar center located on Capitol Hill.  From my second day on the job, the organization was embroiled in a complicated city zoning matter.  After many meetings and conversations with inspectors, lawyers, architects, city zoning people and who knows who else, the whole process ground to a halt. 

Two of the offices involved in zoning issues could not agree with each other about the zoning classification and code requirements for William Penn House.  I saw the guidebook of all the city’s zoning classifications, and it must have been four or five inches thick. William Penn House didn’t fit any of them.  Meanwhile, I was watching our program and bank account slip away, since we were closed down by the city.

Finally, I wrote a letter to Marion Barry, explaining the situation, and asking for his assistance in motivating his people to come up with a solution.   Within just a few days of my sending the letter, action resumed on our case.  Lo, and behold, the disagreeing parties resolved their differences.  Mayor Barry took care of the people, and in this case, we were part of “the people.”  Eventually, we were back in business.

We often dismiss, denigrate, judge, ridicule or condemn others based on aspects of their behavior or personality.  Just as often, there is another side to them we overlook or fail to acknowledge.

It really gets complicated sometimes, but the love and example of Christ caution us not to oversimplify.

A bridge collapses in Minnesota during rush hour.  Floods ravage numerous communities across the globe. Miners are trapped underground in Utah. Teenagers about to begin college are gunned down execution style in Newark.  GI’s are killed in Iraq.  Suicide bombers claim dozens of victims.  Wars we never hear about here destroy people and societies. On it goes, the daily dose of tragedy, destruction, terror, suffering and death.

Thanks to the never-ending flow of news reports, photos and transmitted video, one might have the impression the world is going to hell in a hand basket.   My personal opinion is that for the most part, there is no more trouble, conflict, or disaster throughout the world than during other periods of history.  We just hear about it faster and in more detail than ever before.  In my mind, the exception would be the violence and devastation of war.  Humanity has become more “advanced” and “sophisticated” in our ability to tear our world apart.  Please do not miss the irony of the words in quotation marks.

Sometimes, when we despair at the fear-inducing input of newspapers, television news reports and the internet, we are tempted to wonder, “Where is God?  Why doesn’t God DO something about the terrible things going on in our world?”  Surely, by now most of us realize that God does not manipulate events and people like a Grand Puppet Master, pulling the strings and controlling the movements of people and nature.   God’s love values human freedom more than that.  If and when God chooses to intervene specifically in someone’s life or in unfolding human dramas, that is entirely up to God’s discretion and wisdom.

But, I do believe God is present and active in other ways and at all times.

The other side of the effects of our 24-hour news cycle is that proportionally we rarely hear of good things that are being done to enhance lives, to strengthen communities, and to promote peace.  My belief is that this is the norm rather than the exception. 

Every minute of every day, healing occurs because someone cared enough about other people to study medicine.  Whenever there is an emergency, be it a flood, an earthquake, a tsunami, or a hurricane, there are people who respond selflessly to aid in rescue, recovery, and rebuilding.  Countless others are committed to helping those less fortunate than they, both near and far.  Some folks even take the time to prepare Sunday school lessons to facilitate spiritual growth and encourage faithfulness as disciples of Jesus Christ.  It is impossible to tally up the positive interactions and acts of kindness performed 24/7 by people whose names never make headlines.

I see the hand of God at work in these and other life-giving efforts.  Not all who do good are religious, church/synagogue/mosque attending folks, but as creatures made in the image of God, they/we bear the imprint of the One who creates and promises abundant and eternal life.  We can give thanks to God for each and every one.

To me, this is cause for hope.

While I was attending the General Assembly, I heard that a preacher who substituted for one of my colleagues that Sunday, because she also was at the assembly, preached a memorable sermon.  It wasn’t the kind of sermon appropriate to that or any other occasion.

He was a retired pastor known for his very conservative views.  The congregation at which he was a guest for the day is working through issues related to homosexuality among the church folk.  At least one of their elders is gay, and others in the church have gay or lesbian family members.  In his “sermon,” my esteemed retired colleague, who knew all of this, said something to the effect of “I know what is right and I know what is wrong.  Homosexuality is wrong according to God.”

Upon hearing that, a member of the congregation stood up and said, “I know what is right and what is wrong, too.”  And he walked out.  I’m told five other members walked out in solidarity.

So much for worship. 

The pastor soon heard what happened in her absence.  She was livid.  Her regional minister was livid.   I can only imagine the distress within the congregation.

Their journey on this issue has not been without bumps along the way.  Some folks decided they couldn’t continue in the fellowship, and that’s their prerogative, but my sense is some spiritual growth has occurred in the midst of the anxiety.

May that growth continue, in spite of the disruptive behavior of a misguided and out of touch preacher.  The pastor told me that maybe some good will come of this, after all.  She thought the folks were united in their resistance to the failed attempt at judgment of ones they love.

I’m not a beer drinker, but over the years I have enjoyed some of the commercials advertising beer on television.  Currently, Miller High Life has some ads that I find amusing.  Big guys from the distributorship show up at places where they feel the privilege of selling “the High Life” has been abused.  They raid the refrigerators and shelves, retrieve cases of the beer and load them back on the truck.   All the while, one of the men grumbles and complains about the misuse of the High Life.

The facetious message is there is an obligation attached to being a retailer of this special brand of beer, and no pretense will be tolerated.  I know a lot of people take their beer seriously!

The furor over Barry Bonds and his pursuit of the baseball home run record shows the passion of many people for a sport and its heroes.  It’s entertaining to me to read the responses posted along with online articles about this and related topics.

In the current presidential election campaign the candidates and the voting public will articulate loyalties, beliefs, and priorities.  We’ll discover people’s commitments and how far they will go in backing them up.

What are the obligations of beer sellers, baseball players and their fans, political candidates and voters?  What is the role of passion in these and other pursuits?

When we ask the same questions of Christians we may find that a consensus is difficult to reach.  The expression of obligations and passions sometimes are difficult to read among people of faith, especially pertaining to worship attendance, the practice of spiritual disciplines, biblical literacy, and the distinctive quality of a Christian approach to life. 

Maybe we need the guys from the High Life to visit a few churches and check this out!

Enjoy the videos!

Video 1       Video 2

As a follow-up to yesterday’s blog entry, I wanted to share with you something I read about on the DisciplesWorld website.  It pertains to citizens taking action to bring about structural change.

Second-graders in Las Vegas were dissatisfied with the food on their school lunch plates, especially the green beans.  Apparently, frozen green beans sometimes were re-heated and served a second time after the original thawing.  One doesn’t have to tax the imagination to envision the distasteful experience of eating them. 

School lunches have a reputation of sometimes being less-than-palatable.  I can recall a few of the uncomplimentary descriptions my peers and I applied to some of the meals placed before us in school cafeterias, on a rotating, predictable basis.  The school “pizza” was especially ridiculed.

 The children in Las Vegas chose a constructive approach in lodging their protest.  They wrote letters expressing their dissatisfaction, but were careful to be polite in how they stated their views.  ``A little boy said, `Anything, anything, I'll even eat broccoli,''' said Connie Duits, the lunch lady. ``So that one touched my heart.''  Other letter-writers complimented the overall menu, but suggested that the green beans must go.

The class was inspired to undertake their campaign after reading a book in which the main character sought to arrange a boycott of the school cafeteria.  Their teacher led them through a discussion of the approaches and attitudes portrayed in the story.

The county schools’ food service administration took seriously the protest by the second-graders and visited the school to meet with them and discuss alternatives to the green beans:  “With a handful of reporters watching, two dozen students sat down Monday to a veritable salad bar of cooked, frozen and canned vegetables, from baby corn to cherry tomatoes, and filled out a survey.”  Carrots and corn were popular choices among the students.

When asked about other menu suggestions for the school meals, various ideas were shared.  One boy requested “chicken cordon blue” and “chocolate filled panda cookies.”  My favorite was offered by a girl named Viviann, who asked for future menus to include “stake.”

Officials assured the children that the menu at their school would be “tweaked.”

Power to the people!  Stake for everyone!