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Category: Church (Page 35 of 61)

Homothumadon

October 10, 2011 / / 3 Comments

Our church at Central experienced homothumadon here together yesterday morning. Homothumadon is my second favorite Greek word from the New Testament, right behind koinonia. Homothumadon appears throughout the book of Acts to describe a fiery unity. It means passionate togetherness; emotional and active unity; intense and fevered oneness.

We had that here yesterday when we prayed to God together for our dear sister Judy Newton.

I had only anticipated a few of the people sitting around Lanny and Judy would actually gather around her and place their arms around her and hold her hands while we lifted up a congregational prayer on her behalf. She was diagnosed Friday afternoon with a couple of brain lesions in an out-of-the-blue, ambush, rip-the-rug-out-from-under-you, punch to the stomach, what-in-the-world-do-we-do-now kind of way. I was ready to lead that congregational prayer for her yesterday morning, but before I could start, people began getting up and walking over to Lanny and Judy and crowding around her in a spontaneous show of compassion and solidarity.

They came from all over our worship center. Those immediately behind and next to Judy wrapped their arms around her. But then a few people stood up to join them. And then a few more people. They came from a couple of rows over and from clear across the sanctuary. From the front and back and the middle. Young and old. People who’ve known Lanny and Judy for thirty years and people who’ve never met them. Men and women were crawling over people in their own pews to reach Judy. It’s a “preacher’s count,” I acknowledge, but I’m guessing almost a hundred of Judy’s brothers and sisters made their way to be with her during that prayer.

And I was so inspired. Yes, I thought, this is not doing church; this is being church.

As I watched the people stream toward Judy and surround her with love, I also became somewhat intimidated by my pressing task. As I waited and waited and waited while these people kept coming and coming and coming, I began to feel wholly inadequate for wording a prayer that would properly honor these folks, most of whom I still barely know, and these relationships, all of which I haven’t a clue. How could my prayer do it justice? I felt compelled to call on somebody else to lead it. How can my prayer match what I’m seeing?

When I finally started praying, it happened. Homothumadon. Unity in thought. Unity in mind. Unity in purpose. Unity in prayer. I wasn’t the one praying. We were all praying. We were all saying the “amen.” We were all together speaking with groans only the Holy Spirit can communicate to the Father. It was audible. It was genuine. It was together. We were in a fox hole together, as one, lifting this dear sister to the only God who can do anything about her circumstance. We were communicating to the gracious One who is sovereign over pain and disease. We were lifting Judy to the author of life and the destroyer of death. In faith. In desperation. In trust. As one.

We were all blessed by the prayer. Not the words of the prayer which, again, had everything to do with God’s Divine Spirit and nothing to do with me. We were blessed by the unity of the church. I know Lanny and Judy were encouraged and blessed. I know I was inspired. If you were here with us yesterday morning, I know you were moved, too. We all grew together yesterday morning. We matured spiritually as we considered Judy’s needs greater than our own. We grew together as family. And we became more childlike, more Christ like, as we depended solely on God.

E. M. Bounds said prayer does not prepare us for greater works; it is the greater work.

Judy is set for surgery on her brain at 8:00 tomorrow morning, Tuesday October 11.

Pray.

Allan

Church Clothes

September 29, 2011 / / 4 Comments

I vividly remember as a young teenager, after spending a Sunday afternoon at my friend Todd’s house, showing up to church that evening in blue jeans, a Huey Lewis and the News concert T-shirt, tennis shoes, and extra-wide sweat bands on my wrists. Upon entering the half-empty/half-full worship center I was notified that I was on the list of those who were supposed to serve communion. (This was back in the day when, if you weren’t at church that morning, we made you raise your hand or stand and the rest of us watched you commune. By yourself.) So, I stood up there, feet shoulder-width apart, hands firmly clasped in front, praying and passing the Body and Blood of Christ.

And, man, I got it when we got home. I was not wearing church clothes! I was waiting on the Lord’s Table and not wearing church clothes!

Of course, I know now what I did not know then. In all actuality, I was wearing my church clothes. You are right now wearing your church clothes. The place where you are sitting or standing right now is holy ground.

Scripture holds that everything — absolutely everything — takes place on holy ground. God has something to say about every aspect of our lives: the way we feel and act in the so-called privacy of our own hearts and homes, the way we make and spend our money, the politics we embrace, the entertainment we enjoy, the wars we fight, the tragedies we endure, the people we know. Nothing is hidden from the sight of our God. And nothing is exempt from his rule. The ground is holy, the folks are holy, the words we speak are holy.

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory!”

Not just in the worship center on Sunday morning, but everywhere you walk is holy ground. Everywhere you go is a sacred place. Everybody you meet is a holy opportunity. Everything you do is a sacred activity. Everything you wear is church clothes!

It’s all governed and ruled by God and set apart by him and acknowledged by his children as holy and set apart for his divine and eternal purposes. All of it.

“As God has said, ‘I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people…’ Since we have these promises, dear friends, let us purify ourselves from everything that contaminates body and spirit, perfecting holiness out of reverence for God.” ~2 Corinthians 6:16, 7:1

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The Texas Rangers are smoking hot heading into their second straight postseason. While clinching the title in the AL West, the Rangers won six in a row, ten of their last eleven, 14 of their last 16, swept the Halos, and notched a club record 96 victories. The only team hotter in the American League is the Tampa Bay Rays.

Come 4:00 tomorrow afternoon, I will be planted on the microfiber couch, in front of the tube, with Whitney, some ice-cold DDP, an ample supply of chips and hot sauce, and enough popcorn to make Orville Redenbacher blush. You can text me tomorrow afternoon after 4:00. But don’t call.

This is the most complete Rangers team ever assembled. Kinsler and Napoli are smashing the ball. Josh and Beltre are clutch. Michael Young is MVP-calibar. Ceej and Holland and Harrison are in a groove. Feliz has found his stuff. And Mike Adams is this year’s Cliff Lee.

Rangers in four.

Allan

Upholding the Ideal

September 22, 2011 / / 1 Comment

Our holy Scriptures are full of lofty ideals. We listen to Jesus say, “Love your enemies,” and we realize, “Wait a second, I don’t even like my friends!” Give to everyone who asks. Never lust. Always forgive. Rejoice in persecution. Put the needs of others ahead of your own. Our Lord calls for a single-minded fidelity to following him without reservation. And it’s demanding. Impossibly so. Yes, the Holy Spirit of God empowers us to do what Christ is calling us to do. But we don’t always do it. We mess up. We sin. We fall.

To borrow from Yancey, I find that, personally, I talk and write about spiritual disciplines far better than I practice them.

How about you?

Yeah, I know.

But we keep trying, right?

We never put our feet on the floor in the morning and allow that, “I’m human so I’m going to sin today. There’s no way I’m going to be perfect today. I’m going to mess up. I’m human.” No! God forbid! We strive with everything in our power and by the strength of the Spirit to pledge that, today, I’m going to be like my Lord! We don’t ever give in to the world’s conclusion that we cannot possibly be like Christ. We keep trying.

Scripture paints a beautiful picture of the Kingdom of God and the coming wedding feast of the Lamb. It’s a gathering of “every tribe and language and people and nation.” We find “the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame” around the table. Paul makes it clear that, in Christ, there is “neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female.”

I believe the very core of the Gospel of Jesus is that our Christ died and rose again in order to destroy completely and eternally all the barriers that exist between God and man and man and one another. Social distinctions. Cultural differences. Language obstacles. Socio-economic disparity. Zip codes and tax brackets. None of these things register as even a blip on our fellowship radar. These differences don’t even exist in Christ.

But we have black churches. And white churches. And hispanic churches. And rich churches. And poor churches. And somehow we’ve fooled ourselves into thinking that’s OK. We have begun to believe the lie that church has always been this way and it will always be this way. The cultural differences are too great. The language difficulties are too much. We’ve tried to integrate, we’ve tried to come together, but it’s just never worked. And it never will work.

So, why try?

Because there is honor in the trying. Trying is an act of faith. Our Father wants us to engage that struggle and try. He wants us to try.

Scripture gives us a crystal-clear mandate. It tells us in no uncertain terms that the table of Christ and the house of God is to be enjoyed by all. Together. United as one. Everybody equal. Everybody just as wretched and lost and condemned to death without Jesus and everybody just as holy and saved and righteous because of Jesus. Together. We uphold the ideals we find in Scripture. We lift up those ideals and we try with everything we have to bring heaven to earth, to practice God’s will on earth just as it is in heaven.

And we slip. And we fall. And fail. And do really stupid things. But we never give up. We never give in to the world’s conclusions that division along racial and economic and language lines is necessary. We keep trying. And we trust that Jesus, our King, is watching even as we are “straining at the oars.” He’s interceding for us as he watches. And he’s proud of us. He’s pleased with us as we keep trying.

Peace,

Allan

Football Friday!

August 26, 2011 / / 3 Comments

It’s going to be a record 101-degrees in Amarillo today, but it feels like fall. Drum lines and cheerleaders and football players and victory chants do it for me every time. It’s high school football season. Zero week starts tonight at Bivins Stadium when the Amarillo High School Sandies take on Midland. Carrie-Anne and I just returned from the pep rally in the Sandies Gym. We sat next to the Freshmen section and right across from the Seniors. But we never once saw either one of our girls. (If they had seen us, I’m sure they would have made sure we didn’t see them.)

There’s something really cool about being a part of this Amarillo High School scene. It’s the sense of genuine community. I’m sure it has a lot to do with the history of the place. Amarillo High has been around since 1889. There’s a lot of tradition here. In fact, they do all they can to keep the traditions alive. They still use the old 1920s mascot and logos on a lot of their literature and publications. They still employ a quaint rally chant from the ’40s, “Blow, Sand, Blow!” at opportune times during football games. While discussing tonight’s tailgating activities in the parking lot after the pep rally, we met a couple of people who went to school at AHS, sent their kids to AHS, and now have grandchildren here on the football team and on the spirit squads. There’s a lot of that here. They value their history. They uphold their traditions. When you’re a member of the Amarillo High School community, you’re a part of something much bigger than yourself. You’re a part of something that’s been vital and important since before your grandparents were born and something that’ll be vital and important long after you’re gone.

There’s a really provocative and interesting blog post in here somewhere about traditions in God’s Church, about traditions within our Church of Christ heritage, about the value of those traditions and what they mean to a community of believers. There’s a lot to write today about being connected to the greatness of the past, those men and women of the faith on whose shoulders we’re standing today. There’s plenty to consider regarding what we’re doing today and how it will impact future generations of disciples of Jesus.

But you’ll have to think about it and discuss it yourself. You’ll have to draw your own conclusions today. C-A and I are going to lunch and then we’ve got to find a couple of Sandies T-shirts before kickoff.

Hoping your team wins tonight. Unless it’s Midland.

Allan

Secretary Ministers

August 22, 2011 / / 2 Comments

One of our shepherds at Legacy took me to lunch three weeks ago as sort of an informal exit interview. Once the sandwiches arrived at our table and the thanksgiving prayer had been offered, he got right down to business.

“Allan, if I don’t accomplish anything else today,” he began, “I need to talk to you about the ladies in the church office. They really love you. They are very loyal to you. They would do anything for you. They defend you, they protect you, they say wonderful things about you, they really enjoy working with you. Your relationship with them is uncommonly good. And it’s not like that at all churches. Sometimes the preacher and the secretaries don’t get along at all. There’s usually some kind of tension. Sometimes they don’t even like each other. But Jackie and Suzanne and Bonny all think you’re the best thing ever and they’re absolutely devastated that you’re leaving.”

“Now,” he continued, “that’s something we want to keep going with the next preacher. We want to keep that same dynamic between these ladies and the next minister here. So, tell me…

…what’s your secret?”

What’s my secret? I was a little surprised by the question. My secret?

There’s no secret.

I tried to explain that we had always openly and honestly shared our lives together in that office. We were completely transparent with one another. We knew one another’s strengths and offered constant support and encouragement. We knew one another’s weaknesses and practiced patience and understanding. We laughed and we cried together. We talked about our children, we went to each other’s family funerals, we played practical jokes on one another. We prayed together. We read God’s Word together. For over four years we worked together side by side, day after day, in a difficult environment. We depended on one another. We genuinely needed one another. There’s no secret. We really just grew to love one another.

But the elder persisted. He wanted more.

“What was your strategy, though? How did you make that happen? How do we make sure the next guy we bring in here is going to make it happen?”

I struggled to give him what he was looking for. What is it about honest respect and genuine trust and mutual encouragement and selfless sacrifice within a team that I could put into a nuts-and-bolts plan or formula? For some reason my explanations sounded abstract. He wanted practical. So I tried again.

I always treated the church secretaries as equals.

Always.

I recognized around the table at staff meetings, in the hallways, and in our offices that the church secretaries are Christian ministers, too. Absolutely. In fact, in many ways they are more on the front lines of congregational ministry than the preachers in the back offices and the elders in the board rooms. These are the ladies who answer the door, answer the phone, schedule the building, make the appointments, collect and compile all the information and communicate it to the church. They have the most daily contact with the members of our church. They have more opportunity to show God’s grace. They have more chances to extend God’s mercy and forgiveness, more times to share God’s eternal perspective on daily matters, more occasions to reach others with our Father’s great love. They are often the first point of contact with our church members and with people in our community who are hurting or grieving or doubting or depressed or seeking our Lord. Those ladies do more Christian ministry in a day than some of our “ordained” ministers do in a month! And I know that. I acknowledge that. And I treat them with the great respect that deserves. I value their input. I treasure their opinions. I depend on their evaluations and advice. I trust their judgment. I need them.

I told this shepherd that day that I really believe Jackie and Suzanne and Bonny and I would all four run through brick walls for each other. We would move heaven and earth to do anything for each other. And I think it’s because I always treated them as equals.

(And then I added that in a lot of churches there is tension between the ministers and the elders. Unfortunately, it seems to be unusual for elders and ministers to really get along, to really trust one another, to really love one another and be on the same page together. And if a board of elders really wanted that to happen, they might consider treating ministers the same way I treated those ladies in the office. As equals. Treat your ministers as equals. Show them respect. Value their input. Weigh seriously their opinions. Depend on their evaluations and advice. Trust their judgment. Whatever you do, don’t kick them out of your meetings. Don’t ever send the message to them that, when it comes time to discuss really important matters or make really big decisions, they don’t have much of anything to offer)

Suzanne, you showed me every day how to be compassionate. You treated everyone with dignity and respect. You constantly reminded me that, even when people are being rude on the phone or demanding in the office, our job is to show them the love of Christ. You modeled that perfectly. And I’ve never met anyone with a bigger heart for the weak and the marginalized. You inspire me.

Jackie, you always kept me grounded in the big-picture view of God’s Kingdom. You taught me great balance. You never allowed me to get too caught up in the specifics of temporary issues or too bogged down by temporary trials. You modeled for me a faithful trust in the sovereignty of our good and holy Father.

Bonny, you made me a better preacher. You equipped me by telling me what works and what doesn’t. You empowered me by your constant encouragement. You told me when I said or did something that helped you or changed your outlook. And you never held back when I said or did something that maybe I shouldn’t have. You didn’t let me get away with anything. And you challenged me to be everything God has called me to be. Because of you, the Gospel of Christ was proclaimed more clearly at Legacy.

Now, there’s a whole new set of ladies in my life who are “breaking me in.” Connie, Gail, Elaine, and Vickie. And I don’t know them yet. I don’t hardly know them at all. I don’t know their stories. I don’t know their strengths and weaknesses, their triumphs and trials. I don’t know what makes them tick. And I’m certain they’re wondering about me, too. I’m secretly terrified that Bonny, Jackie, and Suzanne might try to contact them in some way to give them some advice. Or warning.

But I expect us to become close friends. I expect us to grow to love one another. I expect God to work with us and through us together. I anticipate marvelous relationship. And why not? We’re all ministers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were so blessed to take Tessa to lunch on Friday and eat watermelon with her house parents and housemates at High Plains Children’s Home. We were also privileged to meet Tessa’s pig, Wilbur. It’s part of her FFA project. For those of you who know Tessa, you’ll be thrilled to hear that she’s doing great. Her life has changed. It’s been turned completely around. Thank God. And thank Legacy.

Jack and Charlotte Chambers were here at Central yesterday. I also finally met Stephanie’s Aunt Suzanne.

I rejoice in the baptism of Marshall. And Hayleigh. Our God is still saving and rescuing. He is still robbing hell. What a joy to witness it up close!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girls started school today. Carley is a 6th grader at Bonham Middle School. She stepped out of the van this morning and right into a sea of what looked like a million middle schoolers. She just disappeared. Valerie is a lowly fish at Amarillo High, and Whitney is a Senior Sandie. Yeah, they’re Sandies. Amarillo High School is the home of the Golden Sandstorm. I’ve told the girls that you have to be pretty good to get away with a mascot like that. We’ll see beginning this Friday night when AHS takes on Midland in the football season opener.

Go, Sandies!

Allan

Party Practice

June 21, 2011 / / 0 Comments

Jesus is at a fancy dinner party in Luke 14. He’s dining in the home of a “prominent Pharisee.” Fancy people in their fancy clothes telling fancy stories about their sophisticated lives. Scripture says Jesus is “being carefully watched.” Jesus notices and heals a sick man. Then he uses the sick man as sort of a sermon illustration:

“When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.”

And then, I’m assuming, there was a long period of some really awkward silence. You don’t just walk into a fancy dinner party with lots of fancy people and tell the host and the guests that they’re doing it all wrong. “Why would Jesus tell us to invite losers to our parties?” You can almost hear a nervous cough. Imagine the sound of a lonely fork scraping against a dinner plate. Things are really awkward.

Finally, in order the break the tense silence, some guy blurts out, “Blessed is the man who will eat at the feast in the Kingdom of God!”

And Jesus immediately begins telling another story about another feast, but with the same guest list: the poor, crippled, blind, and lame.

Jesus is making the point — and he made this same point every day of his ministry — that the Kingdom of God is a big party with a bunch of losers you wouldn’t be caught dead with on a Saturday night. This is God’s idea of a great time. God takes a bunch of losers, he fixes them, and then he breaks out the roast beef and wine. Revelation says we’re all going to eat and drink with Jesus forever. We’re going to take our places around the table with him at the wedding supper of the Lamb.

What we do when we come together on Sundays is a warm up. It’s party practice. It’s like the chips and hot sauce before the fajitas and enchiladas. It’s at these dinner parties in the Gospels where Jesus shows us what the world looks like when it’s fully healed. When everything is finished, when the Kingdom has finally come in all its fullness, when all of creation is finally redeemed and restored to its original Garden of Eden intentions, it’ll be like this. Our Christian gatherings on Sundays anticipate that huge wedding bash. We’re getting ready for the massive celebration, not just on Sundays, but for all eternity. For all of us.

Isn’t it cool that the Church’s number-one liturgical act is practiced around a supper table? The Lord’s Supper. His meal. And we’re all invited. All us losers have a seat at the head table with the risen Lord of the Universe. A salvation party with a bunch of sickos. Again, that’s God’s idea of a really good time. And Jesus showed it to us all the time.

Peace,

Allan

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