Author: Allan (Page 380 of 492)

Father, Forgive Terry Jones

Father, forgive Terry Jones; he knows not what he is doing.

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” ~Jesus

Terry Jones is planning to burn 200 copies of the Qur’an on the lawn of his church in Gainesville, Florida this Saturday. He says Islam is of the devil. He claims that Muslims are our enemies and that Christians need to take a stand. His idea of taking a stand is to lash out in a violent show of force and desecrate what is sacred to millions of people who do not yet know our Lord.

“In everything, do to others what you would have them do to you” ~Jesus

Terry Jones says he doesn’t like the Qur’an because it teaches that Jesus is not the Christ. He doesn’t like Muslims because they are killing American Christians in the name of God. So his response is to categorically condemn these people and burn their books.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” ~Paul

Terry Jones says he’s going to show the Muslims that we have freedom and rights. We have the right to free speech. We have the freedom of religion. And we’re going to show all the Muslims around the world that we intend to exercise those rights and freedoms in any way we choose. That may be so. More power to him. But don’t you dare attach the name of Jesus or God’s Church to your crusade. Do not endorse your violent exercise of freedom by invoking the name of the One who voluntarily gave up all of his freedoms to save the world from sin. Do not justify your angry and vengeful actions by claiming their motivated by the One who gave up all his rights, who allowed himself to be mocked and ridiculed and abused and killed in order to save me when I was an enemy of God himself.

“If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” ~Jesus

The national media love to find Christians who don’t act like Christ. And they find them all over the place. They’re everywhere. It’s no wonder a lot of people hate us. It’s no wonder.

Terry Jones is not acting like a Christian. To act like a Christian is to love your enemy. To follow Christ is to treat your enemy with compassion and grace and mercy. To be Christ-like is to treat every single person exactly like the child of God, the man or woman of God, the person God sacrificed his very life for in the body of his beloved Son that he or she most certainly is. God loves these people. All of them. They’re all made in his holy image. And he cares deeply for them. Christ died for them. All of them.

Terry Jones does not represent Christ in his words or his deeds.

And Terry Jones does not represent us. This is not who we are. It’s not.

“All men will know that you are my disciples, if you love.” ~Jesus

Father, forgive Terry Jones; he knows not what he is doing.

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Stream DFW this weekend at South MacArthur Church of ChristIf you’re still undecided on whether or not you’re going to attend Stream DFW this weekend at the South MacArthur Church of Christ in Irving (Ken Young and the Hallal Singers, Terry Rush), please click here and watch these video highlights from last year’s Stream. And then click here to register. See you there!

Peace,

Allan

How Would Jesus Do My Job?

If Jesus were the preacher at Legacy…This is the question Jim Martin hit us with yesterday during our afternoon session of the Waco Alliance. If Jesus were the preacher at Legacy, how would he go about his day? What would his week look like? What would he do that you do? What would he never do that you find yourself doing every day?

Weird question.

Weird, because I can’t imagine Jesus as a preacher at a church. Not a church in the way we do church today.

I look at Jesus in the Gospels and, yes, I definitely see a preacher. “Repent!” he preaches. “The Kingdom of God is near!” Oh, yeah, Jesus was certainly a preacher. And he ministered to people. All kinds of people. He taught Nicodemus. He consoled Mary and Martha. He healed the crippled and blind. He encouraged the outcast. He ate with the sinner. Jesus was a pastor/shepherd. On the road. In the desert. At the lake. In people’s homes. In the temple. At the market place. Jews and Gentiles. Sinners and saints. He preached and ministered. He did all the things I long to do. He is all the things I long to be.

But how would he be the preacher at Legacy?

The preacher at Legacy has an office. Four walls. Book shelves with lots of books. A desk. The preacher at Legacy is expected to be in this place, this preacher space, every day. An office. With a phone. And a computer. A lamp. Paper clips and staples and a printer. Emails and messages and blogs. Writing sermons. Practicing sermons. Re-writing sermons. Pens and paper. Budgets and meetings and meetings about budgets. Lunch at the drive-thru and then back in my space.

I imagine Jesus would not keep regular office hours. He might not have an office at all.

And I sometimes find myself living in this office. Living here.

How would Jesus do my job?

I wrote three more paragraphs here and then, after re-reading them a couple of times, deleted them. I’ve got some soul-searching to do. I’ve got some serious questions to answer. I have to be a disciple of Christ first and a church “preacher” second. The lines are blurred more often than not. I’ve got to figure out if that’s good or bad.

Peace,

 Allan

Lousy Leaders and Sorry Sheep

(You’ve got to read Ezekiel 34 — the whole chapter — before you read this post.)

Ezekiel 34 troubles me. Just exactly like the rest of this book of prophesy, it’s strong. Bold. In-your-face. It pulls no punches. It’s convicting. Condemning, even. Powerful. You never have to wonder what God is thinking when he speaks through Ezekiel. And that’s true with chapter 34. I’m troubled because so much of this chapter seems to be speaking so directly to our churches today.

Lousy LeadersGod rips into the bad shepherds because they’re ignoring the fat sheep who are oppressing the other sheep. And I see us. Sometimes. Sometimes elders don’t want to challenge the church bullies because they don’t want to stir up any conflict. They want to keep the peace. And, sometimes, the fattest sheep are the biggest givers. Sometimes preachers hold back on what God’s telling them to preach because they don’t want to offend anybody. They don’t want to answer the phone calls and emails Monday morning. They don’t want anybody to leave. They don’t want the emergency meeting with the elders.

Elders and ministers don’t always take care of the weak sheep like we should. Taking care of sheep is hard. It’s painful. Time-consuming. It’s work. And, sometimes, church leaders do crave the attention. Some of are tempted by the spotlight. Sometimes we really do just want our own way. Sometimes we do only act in an effort to save our own necks. And our selfishness and inconsistencies can drive the sheep away.

God help us.

Sorry SheepWe can also — all of us — sometimes be really sorry sheep. We can be territorial about our ministries or areas of service. Or our pews. We don’t let anybody in. We can shove brothers and sisters out the door by being dogmatic and unyielding about our own personal preferences. We can push people to the curb by insisting they believe and think and worship and sing and dress and pray just like me. We’re so good at it, so oblivious to it, that sometimes we can actually take the official position of a weak sheep and use it like an 18-pound sledgehammer to bully and head-butt and ram other sheep into my comfort zone and my lines and boundaries.

There are sheep in our flocks who’ve been in our flocks for years and who’ve never been invited to anyone’s house for dinner. They’ve never been asked to go out to eat. There are sheep in our churches who feel like they don’t matter because we have absolutely run them over on our way to the next committee meeting or service project.

God help us.

God says, “No, I’m just going to do it myself.”

“I myself will shepherd my sheep”

Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd.”

“I myself will be their shepherd!” Ezekiel 34 and John 10Jesus knows how to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted. To those who relied on their own righteousness, Jesus ripped away all their excuses and forced them to see their deep need for his grace. To those who were burdened and marginalized, Jesus drew them to God. He showed them that God did not delight in their death but was begging them to come to him so he could give them eternal life. They needed to know there was a place in God’s flock for the weak and the sinful.

The Lord Jesus Christ is our great shepherd. He’s bold and courageous and single-minded in his mission to seek and save the lost, to restore the lost sheep of Israel. And he’s so committed to it — he’s so committed to us, his sheep — that he lays down his life for us. He dies for us. He stands in the gate — he says in John 10 he IS the gate! — between us and the ravenous wolves and the muderous robbers who would kill us and eat us. He’s unwilling to sacrifice even one of us to the enemy. He’d rather die first.

And he did.

God’s people are scattered. We’re all over the map. We bicker and argue. We’re lost and injured and sick. And God through Christ keeps his promises to search and bring back and strengthen. The Good Shepherd makes us one. And he gives us peace.

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The Rangers’ magic number for clinching the division title is 19!The Rangers are 2-5 right now on this ten game road trip. They’ve gone oh-fer on the season in the Twin Cities. They’ve lost four straight. Josh and Lee are both out indefinitely. Just a little speed bump, right?

Peace,

Allan

Mutant Christianity

“Your child is following a mutant form of Christianity, and you may be responsible.”

We think they want cake. They actually want steak and potatoes, but we keep giving them cake.

That’s the first sentence in a recent on-line article from CNN that’s been emailed to me four times this week and seems to be making the rounds. The August 27 article tackles the topic of religion and teens from the viewpoint of Kenda Creasy Dean, a professor of theology at Princeton Theological Seminary and the author of “Almost Christian.” Her book claims that lots of parents and churches are unwittingly passing on a watered-down, self-serving, imposter strain of Christianity to our kids. Our children today see God as a “divine therapist” whose chief goal is to boost our self esteem. God simply wants us to do good and feel good. Researchers for the book call it moralistic therapeutic deism. And Dean says, “If this is the God they’re seeing in church, they are right to leave us in the dust.”

According to the book, Dean’s research included in-depth interviews with more than 3,300 American teenagers between 13 and 17, and found that most who call themselves Christian are indifferent and inarticulate about their faith. Dean says three out of every four teenagers in this country claim to be Christian, but fewer than half practice their faith and only half deem it to be very important at all.

I wonder if those numbers wouldn’t also accurately reflect the beliefs and practices of the adults in our pews.

I haven’t read the book. I’ve only read this article. At least five times now. And the one sentence that keeps coming back to me, the one quote I can’t get out of my head, I think, sums up one of the major problems — if not the number one problem — in our churches and our church programs.

About a third of the way through this article, Dean is quoted as saying, “If teenagers lack an articulate faith, it may be because the faith we show them is too spineless to merit much in the way of conversation.”

Amen.

The good news of salvation in Christ is not a “gospel of niceness” in which faith is simply doing good and not ruffling feathers. The Christian call is to take risks, to witness to the world, to sacrifice and serve others; to die to self and to live in a way that is radically — dangerously — different from the surrounding culture.

It’s more about what’s happening in your community than what’s happening inside your church building.Preachers preach safe messages that will bring in more people and/or keep more people from leaving. Elders and other church leaders promise security and comfort and happiness at their congregations. We’re not challenging our people. We’re not teaching them or showing them that following Christ — living in the way of Christ and in the manner of Christ — means doing something to fix what’s broken in the world. Restore something. Cleanse something. Change everything. We don’t call our people to anything that’s bigger than ourselves. If all we’re doing is asking our people to sit in a pew, write a weekly check, and then allow the church to work hard to make them physically and spiritually and emotionally comfortable, we’re guilty of adding to the problem. We’re guilty of teaching and practicing a mutant form of Christianity.

We need to stop telling and showing our teens — and all our adults for that matter — that Christianity is all about following rules and drawing lines and adhering to boundaries. We need to immediately cease telling our members — and the world — that it’s OK to worship in that way over there but not this way in here, or it’s allright to sing that song in that room but not this song in this room, that there’s nothing wrong with worshiping God in that style on this day but not this style on that day. We can’t keep telling our kids that it’s OK for women to pray or read Scripture in our living rooms and classrooms but not in our worship assemblies. We need to stop this vain protecting of our comfort zones and comfort rules by insisting that weddings and funerals are not worship services. When you tell me that an assembly in the worship center in which the gathered men and women sing songs of praise and thanksgiving to God, prayers are offered to God in the name of Jesus, Holy Scripture is read, and a sermon is preached from the Bible is not a worship assembly, it makes no sense. Our kids are not stupid. They see right through this stuff. And I don’t blame them.

That’s not Christianity.

It’s more about what’s happening in your community than what’s happening inside your church building.Biblical Christianity is bold. It’s huge. It turns whole towns upside down. It dramatically changes lives. It’s a call to rescue and save. It’s more about what’s happening in your community than what’s happening inside your church building. It’s more about what you do than what you believe. It’s more about how you live than how you sing. It’s about serving; it’s not about being served. It’s about dying in the name and the manner of our Lord. It’s all about doing things that make absolutely no earthly sense because God in Christ Jesus has broken through the barriers of time and space to deliver us from an eternity in hell. We don’t explain the faith; we courageously live the faith.

Which message is your church preaching and practicing? Is it a mutant Christianity of arbitrary rules and comfort? Or is it a Scriptural Christianity that goes out on a limb to make a massive difference in the lives of hurting and sick men and women in your community? Does your church love and serve unconditionally or does it model love and service with exceptions and fine print?

If you’re telling the teens in your church they can clap during the songs just as long as they don’t clap too loudly, they’re going to leave. And I don’t blame them.

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The Rangers’ magic number is 21I need to apologize to Jerry K: you’re right, Cliff Lee is not the savior of the Rangers. I need to retract a statement I’ve made to Whitney: no, watching Lee pitch is not like it used to be watching Nolan Ryan pitch. Sorry. I know Lee says it’s his back. I know he’s getting treatment. But he’s started ten games now for Texas. And the Rangers are 3-7 in those starts. If the playoffs began today, I’d go with C. J. Wilson and maybe even Tommy Hunter in the opener over Lee. Hunter showed more of those gritty guts last night. David Murphy and Nelson Cruz made some unbelievable catches. And the Yankees are taking care of the A’s.

Peace,

Allan

God's Saints

God’s SaintsI am truly blessed by the fellowship meals we share together on the Fifth Sunday evenings here at Legacy. I very much enjoy looking at the faces of my brothers and sisters instead of the backs of their heads. I believe I can see the risen Lord in those faces, don’t you?

I think around those tables in the gym is where we uniquely experience the mercy and grace of God. We share that mercy and grace and acceptance and love in getting somebody a refill on their iced tea, in helping someone clean up a spill, even in saving seats for somebody we particularly want to sit by. We experience mercy and grace and acceptance when we eat together.

This past Sunday night I asked our church family to look closely at the people around all those tables.

“Look at them.” (audible groans)

“These are your brothers and sisters.” (playful rolling of eyes)

“This is your family.” (louder groans)

Look at them. You’re responsible for them. Now take care of them. Love them. Accept them. Nurture them. Encourage them. Be careful with them. Get involved with them. Minister to them. Know them. Tolerate them. Share with them. Laugh and cry with them. Sacrifice for them.

Love them.

“God gave you these people,” I said. “Now love them.”

We don’t choose the saints. God chooses the saints. God gathers together these men and women. He chooses and blesses and predestines and makes known and lavishes and loves and gathers these people we sit with at church. I like the way Eugene Peterson puts it in his latest book — I’m in the middle of it right now — Practice Resurrection:

These people embarrass us with their haphazardness, exhilarate us with their joy, offend us by their inconsistent lives, comfort us with their compassion, bully and criticize us, encourage and bring out the best in us, bore us with their blandness, stimulate us with their enthusiasm.

But we don’t choose them. God chooses them. We are a family with the people God chooses. His saints.

So, this coming Sunday, look around. These are your people. God gave them to you.

Now love them!

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Rangers magic number is 24!A two-hit shutout last night by Ceej and Feliz. Depending on how Lee does tonight, I’m of the mind now that Wilson might ought to be the starter in Game One against the Twins or the Yankees or the Rays in October. He’s the rock. He’s the stabilizer. He’s the constant. Wow. Cruz picked up right where he left off, too. The magic number is 24…

Peace,

Allan

Can Anything Good Come Out of Pleasant Grove?

Pleasant Grove

It was never really cool to be from P-Grove.

Until now.

As a kid growing up in Pleasant Grove, a once proud community in the southeast corner of Dallas — I’ve always assumed it was proud at one time, long before I was on the scene —I always knew we weren’t as well off as most everybody else in Dallas. I don’t think I ever lacked for a thing. But it was obvious, especially since my siblings and I went to private Dallas Christian about 15-minutes north, that the cool people lived somewhere else.

I distinctly remember a school-sponsored overnight trip to Camp Deer Run when we were kids. It was pouring down rain and blowing really hard and lightning and thundering and our teachers and counselors gathered us in the dining hall. They told us that a tornado had been reported in Dallas but “it’s OK, there’s no need to worry, the tornado was reported in Pleasant Grove.” Welcome to PGrove

Pleasant Grove has been the butt of the Dallas jokes for at least 35-40 years now, maybe longer. People who live in P-Grove are called Grove Rats. It seems that 90-percent of the shootings reported on the evening news occur in Pleasant Grove. When I’ve driven my kids through the Grove to see my boyhood home, they’ve always reacted with horror. Carrie-Anne clicks the car doors locked as soon as we take the Scyene Road exit.

Can anything good come out of Pleasant Grove?

The Bruton IV theater just west of Bruton Road and Prarie Creek is where I experienced Star Wars, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Pleasant Grove branch of the Dallas public library, on South Buckner Boulevard, is where I checked out all of Beverly Cleary’s books about Henry Huggins and Ralph, the motorcycle-riding mouse. The Pleasant Oaks recreation center, just about two miles down Jennie Lee Lane, is where we played ping-pong and basketball. That’s where dad pushed us so fast around the merry-go-round we thought we would either die laughing or choking on puke. It’s where I played three sets of tennis in that record 113-degree heat of a summer day in 1980. In my blue jeans. The 7-11 at the corner of Prarie Creek and Bruton is where I spent hours playing Asteroids and slurping Slurpees. The Pleasant Grove Church of Christ, on Conner Drive, is where I was baptized into Christ. Our three-bedroom house on Terra Alta Circle is where I learned how to be a family. The old Gibson’s store where I made my first major purchase: an $89 ten-speed bike, with lawnmowing money. Craving the ninety-nine cent hamburgers at Griff’s. Pulling the levers on the cigarette machines at Dairy Queen where my grandmother worked. The Circle Grill at Buckner and I-30. Doorknocking the apartments off Lake June Road. Learning to drive on Military Parkway. Twilight Time skating rink. (Oops. Sorry. I was only going to list positive memories in this paragraph.)

Jim Martin came out of P-Grove. That’s pretty cool. When he and I get together for our monthly meetings in Waco or run into one another in Austin or Abilene, our conversation inevitably turns to something only Rats like us could appreciate. And when Jim told me a couple of months ago that Stanley Hauerwas, the great American theologian and one of my favorite authors, was born and raised in the Grove, I was skeptical.

But here’s the proof. Today’s Dallas Morning News carries a front-page story (below the fold) about Hauerwas’ roots in Pleasant Grove. He’s just released a memoir, Hannah’s Child, that details a lot of his childhood experiences as the only son of a Pleasant Grove bricklayer, faithful members of the Pleasant Mound Methodist Church. From there, Hauerwas has gone on to lecture and write and teach and preach. Yale Divinity School. Notre Dame. Duke Divinity School. He’s one of the great theological thinkers of our time.

My favorite work of his is Resident Aliens. Living as Christians in a pagan land. The Church as a colony of outsiders in the middle of hostile territory. Read it. It’s challenging. Convicting. You won’t be the same after you’ve digested Resident Aliens. You won’t view God’s Church or God’s mission for his Church the same way. His writings have certainly had a profound impact on shaping my theology. Hauerwas is a genius.

And he’s from the Grove.

Samuell HSThe Dallas Morning News article mentions that Hauerwas graduated from Samuell High School in 1958. My dad was a Samuell Spartan, class of 1960! Is there any chance? Could they have known each other? Is it even possible? I took my driver’s education at Samuell. But does my dad know Hauerwas?

He doesn’t. I just called. My dad doesn’t even have a 1958 Samuell year book, only a ’59 and ’60.

That’s allright. Today, it’s a little bit cooler to be from the Grove.

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Rangers magic number is 26!The magic number is 26. Any combination of 26 wins by the Rangers and losses by the A’s gives our baseball team their first division title since 1999. Do you realize that there are only 32 games remaining? If the Rangers go 16-16 the rest of the way — no chance since Cruz comes back tonight and Kinsler’s scheduled to be in the lineup by this weekend — Oakland would have to go 25-8 to win the A.L.West.

I remember well those Red Octobers from the late ’90s. Whitney doesn’t. This is fun.

Peace,

Allan

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