The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

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Hallelujah!

December 21, 2010 / / 1 Comment

There were over a hundred of us on the stage at the end of Sunday’s worship assembly. Young and old. Men and women. Great singers and mediocre singers. The confident and the panicked. Friends and family and complete strangers. It was quite a collection of saints.

And we sang the Hallelujah Chorus.

Charlotte Greeson led us. And we followed as best we could. We only had two 45-minute rehearsals. The practice times were short and hurried and intense. Charlotte was tough, but full of grace. She was strict, but so loving. She was hardest on the tenors. And we deserved it. Good night, we deserved it. After Wednesday’s practice, one of the tenors suggested that Charlotte could rip you apart and make you like it. I was reminded of what Tom Landry famously said to his mid-60s Cowboys: I make you do what you don’t want to do so you will become what you want to become.

Paul Dennis read the prophesy from Isaiah 9. “To us a child is born, to us a son is given.” Steven Johnson followed up with the Christ hymn from Philippians 2. “Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father!” And I wondered if we tenors would all hit that opening F-sharp. At the same time.

I still don’t know if we did or not. But, man, whatever happened during those four minutes was really incredible.

There were smiles and hugs and tears and laughter. A wide range of emotions felt and experienced. God was given glory and honor. And his people were encouraged. One lady near the back of our worship center commented afterward that the whole church was inspired by this use of our God-given talents. A much younger boy reportedly told his mom, “That was pretty good for old people.” One lady who took the backstage ramps with her walker to join us for the song wiped back tears as she exclaimed that, at her age and in her health, she wasn’t sure she would ever have had another chance to sing the Hallelujah Chorus in that way with a large choir and an audience. She was blessed. I was blessed. We were all blessed.

Music is a powerful thing. It moves us. It lifts us. It sustains us. And sometimes it transcends us.

Here’s the link to the YouTube video of Legacy’s Hallelujah Chorus.

Thank you Charlotte Greeson and Mary Hollingsworth for a Sunday worship assembly we’ll never forget. Thank you to the leadership of the Legacy church that allows and even encourages us to find new ways to express our faith and praise. And thank you to all who sang and all who encouraged.

Peace,

Allan

Daniel’s Innocence

December 16, 2010 / / 1 Comment

I’ve missed something in the story of Daniel and the Lions Den. I know about the praying three times a day toward Jerusalem, the King’s edict outlawing that practice, Daniel’s insistence on obeying God rather than man, his execution sentence, and the angel of God that shut the mouths of the killer cats. I know all that. What I’ve missed all these years is Daniel’s over-the-top integrity in every single facet of his life. I’ve missed his uncompromising character that controls every aspect, reigns over every compartment and category of his existence.

Daniel is so good, so loyal, so successful that King Darius is planning to make him second in command. Daniel’s peers become upset and look for ways to discredit their rival.

“The administrators and the satraps tried to find grounds for charges against Daniel in his conduct of government affairs, but they were unable to do so. They could find no corruption in him, because he was trustworthy and neither corrupt nor negligent.” ~Daniel 6:4

They’re looking for a scandal. They’re searching for some dirt. Something. Anything. They’re desperate. They want his job. They’re jealous. They deserve it more than he. They’re afraid. Daniel knows where all the bodies are buried. They’re digging through his trash. They’re talking to all his neighbors. They’re stalking him, trailing him, studying him, trying to discover his one vice, his fatal flaw.

“Finally these men said, ‘We will never find any basis for charges against this man Daniel unless it has something to do with the law of his God.'” ~Daniel 6:5

You ever noticed that before?

Can people say that about me? Would people who know you say that about you?

“We will never find any basis for charges against this man unless it has something to do with the law of his God.”

If someone were looking to find fault with you, how hard would they have to look? Could they check the “history” on your computer browser, the menu on your DVR, the text messages on your phone and still say there’s no fault here? What if they interviewed your spouse, had lunch with your co-workers, talked to your kids? Would the report be good? What if they had access to your emails? What if they sat in the back seat as you drove home from work? Let’s say they followed you around for a month and analyzed every word that came out of your mouth, recorded your every action, wrote down your every move. Would the enemies looking so hard to find fault with you finally slam their pencils down in frustration and hurl their recording devices through the window and shout in frustration, “There’s nothing wrong with this person! Unless we can make loving God and loving others illegal, we’ve got nothing on this guy!”

I’m afraid on some days the men trailing me would be done before lunch. It wouldn’t take long.

I pray that, by God’s grace and the transforming power of his Spirit, I’m getting better.

You, too?

Peace,

Allan

This Is Not God’s Way

December 15, 2010 / / 5 Comments

Winston Churchill told a story about a little boy who was playing on a pier and tumbled over into the water. The boy couldn’t swim and began to cry out for help. A soldier working at a nearby dock heard the desperate screams and dove into the sea. This brave young man swam out to the child, put him on his back, and brought him safely back to shore and into the loving and nurturing arms of the cheering crowd. The next day, the little boy’s mother came back to the docks looking for the courageous soldier. When the pier workers pointed her toward her child’s rescuer, she walked right up to him and asked, “Young man, are you the one who saved my little boy?”

The soldier stood up. His chest began to swell and a smile broke out on his face as he answered her, “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

The woman leaned in and looked right into his eyes, “Where’s his cap?!?”

We preachers and ministers and elders and other church staff believe we are called by God. We believe we are charged by God to do the things we do in the name of his Son. It’s a high calling. It’s a noble vocation. It’s not a nine-to-five gig. It’s an all-consuming passion that compels us to preach and teach and pray and serve.

So when we answer that call from our Lord and move into the ministry, we all believe we’re entering a holy, God-sanctified realm. But the reality for most of us is that we’ve entered a system, a man-created and human-perpetuated system that grinds up and spits out preachers and elders. Broken preachers and elders are all around us. A lot of them are still working. A lot of them are not. Burned out. Trashed. Used. Abused. Walked all over. Stomped on. Chewed up and spit out like the gunk on the floor of a major league dugout.

The expectations we place on preachers and elders, the ways we treat them, the things we say to them and about them — behind their backs and even to their faces! — the things we demand of them, the attitudes of ownership and entitlement that guide our interactions with them, none of that is from God. We’ve been a part of this sick system for so long, we think it’s God’s way. But it’s not. It’s the human way. It’s the world’s way. The way we generally treat preachers and elders is not God’s way.

The reason wives and families of ministers and elders resent the church, the reason so many of our best and strongest and most faithful men refuse to serve when the church calls, the reason so few of our most gifted young people are interested in the call to preach and minister is that they all know they’re not entering into a holy partnership with God and his people as much as they’re entering into a life-sucking, soul-robbing, energy-draining system.

It’s not supposed to be this way. It doesn’t have to be this way.

It needs to change. We can do better. And we should.

The call from our God is for us to live in mutually-encouraging relationships in Christ. We are to “fan into flame” the gifts from God we see in our preachers and elders, not explode all over them with soaking wet, white fire extinguisher foam.

We are all holy people, set apart by our God to serve his holy purposes. Our interactions with one another should also be holy. They should encourage and inspire, not discourage and depress. We should express gratitude, not attitude. Instead of arguing and complaining and criticizing, our words and actions toward those who serve us should be motivated by the Spirit who lives inside us, the Spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law. And no system.

Peace,

Allan

Thank You, Cliff Lee

December 14, 2010 / / 0 Comments

So, Lee signs with the Phillies for less money and years than the Yankees and Rangers were offering. It’s OK. It really is. Texas did not lose the free-agent jewel to the Evil Empire. Today the Rangers are still better than the Yankees. And Lee’s surprise move reminds us that, sometimes, it can be about more than just the dollar signs. Excellent.

Look, we knew in July that Lee was only a rent-a-player. We had no expectations that he would be here in 2011. It was out of the realm of possibility. It wasn’t even worth talking about. The only reason any of us believed he might even possibly consider re-signing in Arlington is because he did help take Texas to the World Series.

The fact that he did that is enough to be thankful for. There’s no whining or crying today over losing Lee. None. Only gratitude. Only thanksgiving. Only appreciation.

Jamey Newberg says it best in his daily column:

Thanks, Cliff.

Thanks for the four greatest sports months of my life.  Thanks for the greatness, the dominant precision, the artistry.  The way you pitched, the way you competed.  The occasional transcendence. Thanks for October 6.  And for October 12, and the Don Draper cool of that march toward Bengie Molina and everything that happened in the three hours that led up to it. Thanks for October 18.  Man, thank you for that. 

Thanks for doing your part to make a playoff team a World Series team.  Maybe more than once.

Sure do appreciate you not signing with New York.  A lot.

I wasn’t surprised when I read last night that you called Jon Daniels yourself to tell him you were signing with Philadelphia.  I was entertained that you had your agent call Brian Cashman to deliver the same message.

I wanted you back in Texas, but the years and dollars that the bidding had gone to scared me.  Still wanted you here, but when the offers got as crazy as they did, I found myself more preoccupied with you not ending up with the Yankees.

Emotionally, it does stink that Texas reportedly offered the most lucrative contract and that, despite every indication that Lee loved his Texas teammates and despite proximity and lifestyle and tax laws and the strength and promise of the team around him and December hunts with Tommy Hunter while everyone else was on the edge of their Winter Meetings seats, it wasn’t enough.

But unemotionally?  (And sorta emotionally?)  I don’t blame Lee at all, and really I’m not all that torn up.  The biggest sports moments in my lifetime have been adrenaline rushes and kicks in the gut.  This one was really different, has an oddly surprising calm to it.  Hearing that Lee chose Philadelphia, that Lee didn’t choose Texas and didn’t choose New York, struck me as good news.  I would have never expected that reaction (and, despite the fear over the financial commitment, would have never had the same reaction if he chose pinstripes).

I’m not trying to rationalize this.  I realized two days ago, as we’ve talked about, that it was starting to feel more important to me to see the Yankees not get Lee than for Texas to sign him to what many of us – and I bet some of the Rangers’ decision-makers – knew deep down was a bad baseball contract.  I’m content with this, until we see what the Rangers do next.

Whoever Plan B is, will he be as good as Lee?  Probably not, but we’ll see.  Some think Greinke, in particular, will produce more over the next five years than Lee.  Far more unknowns with Greinke, though. Will Plan B leave Texas more money to address other needs, now or in July?  Yes. Will Plan B come off the books himself in two years, maybe three?  If so, then we go get the next young ace.

I love Cliff Lee.  There’s never been a pitcher quite like him in Texas, and there’s never been a season in Texas anything like 2010, which without Lee would have ended sooner.  The Rangers’ opportunistic move to get Lee in July, and his part in the four months that followed to give us that season, will stand forever among the greatest rewards I’ve had as a sports fan.  Forever. For that, Cliff, no matter what happens from here on out for you or for Texas, let me just say, once again:

Thank you.

Ditto,

Allan

All-Time Low

December 13, 2010 / / 4 Comments

The storied history of the Dallas Cowboys contains many embarrassing moments. Clint Longley’s sucker-punch of Roger Staubach, Jay Saldi’s acting, Rod Hill, Barry Switzer’s gun arrest, Switzer’s “Load Left,” the 1986 Christmas video, the White House, “No, Danny, no!”, Campo’s three years, Tex Schramm’s treatment of Lee Roy Jordan, Jerry Wayne’s treatment of Tom Landry, Rafael Septien’s sin, the price of nachos at the new stadium. Plenty of things the Cowboys would rather sweep under the rug.

Does anything compare to the utter shame in what happened in the seconds immediately following last night’s three-point loss to the Eagles?

It happened right at midfield, just a few feet from the giant Cowboys star that, at one time, was worth defending. After a gut-wrenching home loss to the hated division rival Eagles that officially eliminated Dallas from postseason contention, there was Cowboys running back Tashard Choice chasing down Philly quarterback Michael Vick for an autograph. Like a star-struck eight-year-old, thrilled to death to just be in the presence of such greatness, Choice beamed wide-eyed at Vick as he scribbled his name across Choice’s extended glove.

I hit the backup button on my DVR and watched it four times before I could really comprehend it.

Sickening.

I understand I’m not a young man anymore. I know it. I hung our Christmas lights on the house Friday and my legs are still killing me today. And I know I sound like an old man when I criticize Choice for his ill-timed request of his conquering foe. But, good gravy! These are not the Cowboys I cheered for as a kid.

The Cowboys I cheered for were led by Harvey Martin, who once threw a funeral wreath into the Redskins locker room after a division-clinching win. They were captained by Dennis Thurman, whose “thieves” once famously broke up the Washington Fun Bunch in the Texas Stadium end zone. Cliff Harris wound up on his rear end, but he didn’t let Jack Lambert push him around. Jimmy Johnson chased down Buddy Ryan to give him a piece of his mind after a game in ’89. When Joe Theisman ran around in the back of the end zone to run time off the clock before kneeling for a safety in a 9-5 win, Charlie Waters almost decapitated him. George Teague did his thing to T. O. long after I stopped rooting for this team, but I appreciated his attitude.

Tashard’s autograph request was an all-time low. His explanations and excuses are running a close second. I was bothered by the ho-hum reaction to DeSean Jackson’s pirouette and Nestea iced-tea plunge at the one-yard-line during what turned out to be the game-winning touchdown. Terrence Newman and Gerald Ball just stood there. But I’m more disturbed to think that while the Cowboys offense was gathered on the sidelines in the closing minutes, hoping for a final shot to win or tie the game, Choice was busy looking for a pen.

Over the past five weeks, I’ve found myself secretly hoping for success for Jason Garrett. If he’ll send Choice to the “asthma field”  this week for his nationally televised post-game brain-lock, Garrett might could win me all the way back.

Peace,

Allan

Two Kinds of People

December 9, 2010 / / 1 Comment

From the rumor mill… I just got off the phone with a very reliable source in Benton, Arkansas, the home of free-agent ace and savior Cliff Lee and the center of the baseball universe. (The source is a gospel preacher and a great friend of mine. It doesn’t get any more reliable!) The informant tells me that Lee’s granddad was in the downtown Benton bank this morning and was overheard telling a buddy, “Cliff’s going to sign with the Yankees. And we’re going to disown him from the family!”

You heard it here first.

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You will be wowed — quite possibly overcome — by this rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus. Click here to check out this very different version performed to the glory of God by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. Set aside six minutes of your life and be blown away by this. If you’re an impatient Cretan, forward to the 2:25 mark and let it rip. I’ve never heard any arrangement like that. Ever. Not even close. Goosebumps, man. Big time. Wow.

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First Tulsa Workshop preview — You already know what a big fan I am of the annual Tulsa Workshop. Every March, it’s one of the most anticipated and rewarding spiritual highlights of my year. This year, Terry Rush and the Workshop organizers are planning several sessions that are dedicated specifically “For Elders Only” and “For Children’s Ministers Only” and “For Preachers Only.” The speakers for those special sessions include such heavyweights as Don McLaughlin, Rick Atchley, Al Maxey, and Terry himself. The elders sessions are going to be facilitated by the Memorial Drive shepherds. I can’t recommend that highly enough. I’ve been with those elders there. I’ve spent time with them. I’ve prayed with them. They’ve prayed for me. They’ve blessed me. They know what they’re doing. They’re elders in our Lord’s Church and they love it. If you can get your elders to Tulsa this year, do it! Terry provides a sneak peak at this part of the schedule on his blog here.

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“The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” ~1 Corinthians 1:18

There are two kinds of people: those who are dying and those who are being saved. Paul makes it pretty plain. All of Scripture confirms what the apostle knew. The message of Jesus — his life, his teachings, his death and resurrection — is difficult to accept. It doesn’t make sense with our contemporary eyes. It contradicts everything we’re taught by society. It flies in the face of contemporary culture. It’s offensive to the values of the country in which we live.

Honestly, it’s the exact opposite of some of our own strongly held beliefs and practices.

May our Father give us eyes to see Jesus as the Holy Son of God, not just a really good man; the belief to view the cross of Jesus as our eternal victory, not a scandalous or embarrassing defeat; the faith to embrace the Resurrection as our certain destiny, not just an amazing story; and the trust to submit fully to Christ’s eternal reign as something real for us, not just an abstract idea.

Peace,

Allan

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